Come Undone

by Jessica Hawkins

  “Come on, Coop. You know me.” ‘Coop’ gave David a very ungracious look.

  David’s words from earlier rushed into my head, stinging all over again. I had no desire to leave his side. But he’d made it clear that he didn’t want me around, and the last thing I wanted was to give him another opportunity to burn me.

  “I appreciate the offer David, but I think I’ll go with Detective Cooper.”

  “Olivia, no, wait,” he said, grasping my arm and withdrawing when I recoiled. “I’m not letting you out of my sight until I know you’re home safe, even if that means I get in Coop’s car with you.”

  “I’m not taking you home, Dylan,” Cooper warned.

  My insides quivered with indecision, thrown off by David’s mixed signals. Just a few hours earlier, he never wanted to see me again. “If you insist. Detective, I don’t want to put you out. I can go with David.”

  “Are you sure? It’s no problem at all.”

  David gave a dismissive nod and crossed his arms. “You heard her,” he said. I confirmed with a tired dip of my head.

  “K.” Cooper’s shoulders slumped back into position. “If you need anything else, you call me,” he insisted, never taking his eyes off me. “I’ll be in touch tomorrow, Fish.” He slapped David lightly on the shoulder. They said good-bye, and he ran to catch up with the other officers.

  David surprised me by pulling me from the wall and into his arms. Despite my mind’s wary protests, I felt myself let go infinitesimally, safe in his clutch and hidden from the world. His muscular arms wrapped around me so that I could barely move. “Relax,” he willed softly. I loosened my shoulders the best I could and rested my head on his hard chest.

  “Oh,” I pushed him away reluctantly. “I don’t want to get blood on you.”

  He leaned down and touched my cheek gingerly, but I flinched and pulled away. “Did he hit you?”

  I was silent. He shut his eyes, sighed heavily, and opened them again. He was so close that I was hit with the brackish musk of fresh sweat. He pinched the bridge of his nose and turned his back to me. “I should have fucking shot him,” he said to himself. Fabric strained against his shoulders, and I thought for a moment he might burst through his suit and reveal himself as the Hulk. I knew better than to point out that if he had, he’d be in the back of the car instead of Mark. “I’m taking you to the hospital,” he said finally.

  “No,” I replied with certainty. “I’m fine.”

  “Fine?” he asked, incredulous. “You’re shaking.”

  I hadn’t realized, but once he’d enveloped me, I had begun to tremble. “I’m really fine,” I insisted, trying to even my tone. “I’m just frightened.”

  He pulled me close again, running his hand slowly over my back. After a beat, he gathered the hair from my neck with his hand, sweeping it in to a loose ponytail. He pulled lightly so I glanced up and with his other hand, lifted my chin higher so he could inspect the cut. As my head was almost vertical, I looked away awkwardly, unsure of where to focus until he finally relented. “It’s just a surface wound,” he said, licking his finger and wiping away some blood. Relieved, I gave a short nod.

  “Does anything else hurt?” he asked.

  I hesitated.

  “Olivia.”

  “Well, not much,” I lied, touching the back of my head. With every moment that the adrenaline subsided, the pain increased.

  “Come on, we’re going to Northwestern,” he said.

  “No,” I pleaded with him. “Please, I’ve had a rough night, I can’t take anymore commotion,” I said, trembling harder.

  “Okay, shh,” he said rubbing my arms. “You could have a concussion though,” he reasoned softly.

  “I don’t think so,” I said, and he smiled for the first time all night.

  “You’re a little stubborn, aren’t you?” he asked, and my only response was a glare. “All right, all right. No hospital. But tell him he needs to stay up and watch you tonight, it’s very important, in case of a concussion. It’s necessary to check on you - ”

  “Who?” I interrupted, dazedly.

  “Who?” he echoed. “Your husband.”

  “Oh. Bill,” I nodded. “Of course. He’s in New York.”

  David paused and looked at me for a moment. “You’ll come with me then. I can watch you tonight.”

  “No, no,” I rebuffed. “I can call Gretchen,” I said, retrieving my phone. We looked at each other as I held the phone to my ear, not sure if I wanted her to answer. When I heard the familiar greeting of her voicemail, I ended the call.

  “No answer,” I said. “I’ll try Lucy.”

  He gently took the phone from my hands, and I looked up at him.

  “It’s late. They’ll be asleep. Come with me,” he said. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t expect you to do that.”

  “I want to do it.”

  “What about everything you said earlier?”

  “Forget it. We can start tomorrow,” he said with a goofy smile. He placed his arm on my shoulder to lead me out to the street, but I stopped.

  “Don’t,” I said, moving out from under his arm. “I can’t forget it. I’m not going home with you.”

  “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings,” he intoned. “But I’m not sorry I said it. I needed to be firm. I needed it to stick.”

  “So? This isn’t firm. This isn’t making it stick. Look, it’s fine, I get it. It’s done. Just let me get a cab home. I don’t have a concussion.”

  “I just said – Jesus, Olivia.” His harsh tone was suddenly deep with bass. “I’m not letting you out of my sight, especially now that I know you’re hurt. We can discuss what happened tomorrow, please, let’s just get through tonight.”

  I heaved a sigh. His expression went from angry to concerned to hurt, all in the span of ten seconds. I relented finally, but made sure to keep enough distance that he couldn’t touch me again.

  “I hope my car is still there,” he said as we walked.

  “Hmm?”

  “That was my car you almost ran into. I hopped out to chase you down.”

  “Oh,” I said distractedly. I didn’t even remember a car in my flustered state. I followed him blindly, too tired and edgy to resist anymore. He opened the door of the Porsche for me, and we didn’t speak another word. Questions began to form as I reviewed the events of the night, but all I wanted was to lie down.

  David parked in his designated spot under the building, and I followed him to double doors. He held a keycard up and they clicked audibly, allowing us to enter into a marbleized elevator bank. David placed his hand on my lower back and led me to the furthest car.

  “Good evening, Mr. Dylan,” said a severe-looking man from behind his security desk. His eyes turned suspicious when he greeted me. I must look a hideous mess, I thought. Then I realized the look wasn’t because of my appearance, but because of the countless girls he must see pass through here under David’s arm.

  “Gorman,” David said with a nod.

  “Everything all right, sir?”

  “Yes, thank you. A small altercation near my office, but it’s all taken care of.”

  “It’s my fault, really,” I said, offering my hand. “I’m Olivia.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, miss,” he said, taking my hand with mild surprise. “And I doubt that. But one must be careful on these streets late at night,” he offered. “Should I have anything sent up?”

  “We’re all set,” David said. I could feel him watching me while we boarded the elevator, but I stood with my arms crossed, watching the numbers rise until we hit the top. The very top. The penthouse. Again, I wondered at his salary.

  The doors opened to a simple marble foyer with a single door. I noticed the sag in David’s shoulders as he unlocked the door and realized he must also be tired.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” he said, tossing his keys onto a circular table in the entryway. He motioned to the living room and di
sappeared through another door.

  Once inside, it took me a minute to adjust to my surroundings. I removed my shoes and stepped from cold wooden planks onto a plush ivory carpet. Three steps down deposited me into an immaculate sunken living room with two pine green mid-century couches and a brown leather lounge chair. A monochromatic stone wall housed a cozy fireplace that was the focal point of the room. A glass coffee table, with a base fashioned from the same ebonized mahogany as the floor, held three small colorful abstract sculptures and a stack of design books.

  The room was carefully curated, yet it didn’t have the vacant feeling I’d experienced in other upscale apartments. Perhaps the most mesmerizing part was the floor-to-ceiling white-paned windows that showcased Lake Michigan between great smooth columns.

  “It’s not quite what I expected,” I called out. I scanned the view from the eighty-fourth floor and lifted my head to the vaulted ceilings ribbed with dark wood beams.

  “Not bachelor pad enough for you?” he responded from the other room. I smiled to myself.

  “Ah finally, a smile,” he said, reappearing. “Come,” he motioned as he walked purposefully toward the couch. I crossed the room but before I could sit, he touched my chin again, lifting it to him. “This might sting a little,” he said, showing me a towel of ice. I nodded up at him as he carefully applied the ice to my cheek, looking between my eyes and the towel. I inhaled sharply as he adjusted it. “Sorry,” he murmured. “It will help though.” After a moment, he said, “You must be beat.” I scrunched my face at him. “Shit. Bad choice of words.”

  I laughed lightly and then winced. “I never asked if you were all right. Did he hurt you?”

  He looked skeptical. “No, I’m fine.”

  “A regular Clark Kent. My superhero,” I said, smiling as best I could.

  “Hardly,” he scoffed, but I noticed his cheeks redden slightly. “Well, maybe. Do you know how hard it is to chase and subdue someone in dress shoes?” I think I laughed, but I felt like I’d been sucker punched. Chase . . . and subdue . . . . The words echoed in my head. Lust reared within me at the thought of David acting out those verbs on me, only when he caught me, things would go somewhat differently than they had tonight.

  “Here, hold this for a minute,” he said, jolting me from my thoughts. He disappeared once more and returned with two Tylenols and a glass of water. I handed over the towel and gratefully took the medicine, eager for the pain to subside. “Let’s get you into bed,” he said, and my head snapped up. He rolled his eyes at me. “I have a guest room you can stay in.”

  “Of course, I know.” A shaky laugh escaped my lips. He showed me to an empty room that was equally as nice but much less inventive. It was furnished with a bed, nightstand and dresser, but it lacked the warmth of the rest of the apartment.

  “There’s the bathroom, there,” he said, pointing to a door at the other side of the room. I’ll get you something comfortable to sleep in.”

  “Oh, that’s not necessary, I can sleep in this,” I said, but he was already out the door.

  I found my way to the bathroom to freshen up. After splashing my face with warm water, I examined the damage. He was right, the cut was minimal, and most of the blood had washed away. But I could already see the beginnings a bruise forming around it. I quickly tugged my fingers through my hair, carefully avoiding the tender bump on the back of my head. I smudged some dirt from my collarbone, but there was nothing I could do about the shadows under my eyes. I looked more suitable for a night at the trailer park than as a guest in David’s pristine home. He appeared in the doorway of the bathroom and appraised my reflection.

  “I’m a mess,” I said with a pout.

  “Yes,” he agreed, and I stuck my bottom lip out further. “Somehow you still look exquisite.” It was my turn to roll my eyes. “This is all I have,” he said, handing me a folded t-shirt and boxers. “They might be a little big,” he said, stifling a laugh, “but it’s better than nothing.”

  I raised my eyebrow at him, and it was his turn to blush. “Well, not - it’s not better . . . Never mind.”

  I thanked him and took the clothing. “Can I have some more water?” I asked.

  “Sure.”

  Soreness descended, and I moved slowly as I changed. I furtively whiffed the shirt, which smelled of fresh laundry and David. When I came out, he was setting a glass of water on the nightstand.

  “How’s this for exquisite?” I joked.

  “Why do you keep doing that? Rolling your eyes?” he asked.

  “Because it’s ridiculous. Although I don’t doubt that some girls buy into it.”

  “You do look exquisite.” I looked down at myself and burst into laughter.

  He tilted his head and smiled dangerously, in such a way that would get even the Virgin Mary into trouble. My laugh vanished as he looked me up and down with bloodthirsty eyes, like he might leap across the room and devour me. I chewed my bottom lip as my insides flurried. Standing there in a huge t-shirt and shorts rolled three times, I felt less than desirable. But under his perusal, my body’s reaction was beyond my control.

  “One day I will tell you exactly how exquisite you look right now,” he promised.

  I clenched my jaw to abate my physical reaction. His eyes lingered too long, and that empty heaviness returned between my thighs. “Well,” he said, clearing his throat. “You’re all set. I’ll be back to check on you in a few hours – I’ll have to wake you,” he warned.

  I nodded. “That’s why I’m here, right?” I said, shrugging. A roguish grin was his only response. I climbed into the bed and got under the covers.

  “Goodnight,” he said, reaching for the lights.

  “David,” I said suddenly, sitting up.

  “Hmm?”

  I swallowed hard. “Did anything happen between you and Gretchen?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “At the MCA event. D-did something happen?”

  I jumped at his burst of robust laughter. When he saw that I wasn’t laughing, he stopped and his face fell. “Seriously?”

  I nodded earnestly.

  He stalked slowly to the bed and bent so we were face to face. My mouth fell slightly, and I snapped it shut.

  “She’s not really my type,” he said, his voice low and sensual. “For one, I prefer brunettes. Brunettes with big, green eyes and,” he stopped, seeming to have lost his train of thought. He reached up and picked something from my cheek. “And very long lashes,” he said, holding one on the tip of his finger.

  I was now breathing through my nose to prevent any incidence of panting. For a moment, I saw myself through his eyes.

  “Besides,” he said, straightening up and flicking it off. “She’s not tough enough for me.” He winked. With that, he strode away, shut off the lights, and pulled the door closed behind him.

  My heart thumped in his wake, his touch lingering on my skin. I fell back into the plush bed. He didn’t want Gretchen. The mixture of his touch, his smell, his words intoxicated me. It took everything I had not to drown in the thought of him, not to touch my throbbing self through his clothing. I forced myself to concentrate on the night’s events; so much had happened.

  I wondered if Mark’s threats were legitimate or if he’d been bluffing. Would he really be out right away? How was it that David had appeared in that moment? What would have happened if he hadn’t? I curled up into a ball while this last question hung in my head.

  ~

  “Olivia.”

  I moaned in response. It was quiet for a moment and I shifted, my eyes opening to darkness.

  “Hey,” David whispered.

  “Hi,” I whispered back, rubbing my eyes sleepily, struggling to see in the night.

  “Do you know where you are?” he asked.

  I was quiet for a minute. “Yes,” I said. “On the moon.”

  I saw his outline, which was becoming clearer, stiffen. I laughed softly. “Don’t worry David, I’m fine.”

  “Oh,” h
e said. “All right, just checking.”

  “Stay,” I said before I could stop myself. I curled up into a smaller ball.

  He hesitated a moment before the door closed, and I heard his bare feet cross the room. The bed dipped and after another pause, he climbed all the way on. He settled against the pillows as far away as he could get, and I wondered if it was respectfulness or if, at the stroke of midnight, our new arrangement had gone into effect. But either way, he was there, and it was dark, and somehow, none of that mattered.

  “Do you normally work so late?” he asked after some time.

  “No. I fell asleep at the office,” I said. “I can’t believe that I saw you. Well, that you saw me, I guess.”

  “You mean, almost ran you down.”

  “Right. Where were you going?”

  “I was also working late, except that I was actually doing work. Your office is on my way home,” he stated simply.

  “Sort of,” I mused, going over the possible routes in my head.

  “No, it is,” he said. “Where were you going? Don’t you live in the opposite direction?”

  I turned to face him now, even though I couldn’t see him in the dark. “I don’t know. At first I was running to the ‘L’ and then I just turned.” I was quiet for a moment, reliving the moments before he had caught me. “Hm.”

  “What?”

  “I was trying to get to . . . Jackson? I think, yes . . . I was,” I paused, going through the route, I took a right turn and . . . . “I was trying to get to you.” The admission surprised me. I hadn’t realized it until now. I knew that David’s office was on Jackson. And I didn’t feel embarrassed by it, although I knew I should. “It doesn’t make any sense,” I said to myself. “What would make me think you’d be there at that time? Or that you’d care after this afternoon?” Again, I tried working it out in my head. A beat passed. And then another before I noticed his silence. “You think I’m a stalker, don’t you?”

  “No,” I could hear a smile in the word. “I’m thinking.”

  “What about?”

  “Everything.”

  I understood. It was almost kismet, if I believed in that sort of thing.

  “I just can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if - ”