“You think I beat her up?”
“Nah. Doc says, lookin’ at her bruises, she was beat Friday night or Saturday mornin’. You didn’t get back till late Saturday night. You know who’d be wantin’ ta hurt her?”
Paul thought for a minute and then looked down at Rhees, remembering the things she’d rambled on about Shelli before she was lucid. He closed his eyes and licked his lips a few times, his mouth puckered and unpuckered. He let out a loud sigh, just now putting it all together.
“Apparently, her new boyfriend told everyone they broke up. He spread the word, said he thought she’d gone to the mainland—with me. I haven’t seen Shell for days. The last time I did, guess who she snuggled up to, all cozy, at Tanked?—Mario hurt Shell.”
Paul couldn’t stand the thought of what Mario had had in mind for Rhees. He stared at the floor in front of him. His breathing grew shallow—louder as he struggled to control his temper. He felt an intense need to slam his fist into something—Mario’s face would be perfect again—he wished he’d finished the job when he had the scumbag all but incapacitated. Just a few more blows and—
“Paul, don’t.” Rhees’ face was right in front of his. He didn’t know how he’d missed her moving in so close.
“Don’t what?” He felt disoriented.
“I know that face. It’s the one I imagine, over and over, the one you wore when you beat the hobo to within an inch of his life. Please don’t think that way.”
Paul took a deep breath, wanting to appease her. He turned to Worley. “The man’s an even bigger monster than we thought.”
“Good thing we have him then. As soon as Shelli wakes up an’ tells us her story, we’ll confirm all that. He won’t be tastin’ freedom for a while.”
Worley left Paul and Rhees alone on the deck.
“What do you want to do?” Paul took her hand in his. “Do you want to go back to your place?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think I could walk that far.”
“I’ll call Ignacio. You shouldn’t walk in your condition.”
She thought about it for a minute but shook her head. “Can I just stay here again tonight? I really like the ocean breeze. The shop’s deck has the best breeze on the island, and my apartment—”
“Of course,” he said. “It’s peaceful here when everyone’s gone for the day. I sleep here sometimes, on the rare occasion I find myself—” He caught himself, wished he hadn’t started to say it. “Alone for the night.”
He glanced at her to see if she’d caught what he meant. His sex life was no secret between them but for some reason, right now didn’t seem like the time to remind her about it. A look of disappointment crossed her face.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been hanging around people too much like me for too long. I feel like a bumbling buffoon around you.”
“Don’t. Just be yourself.”
“Believe me. You don’t want me to be myself.” He inhaled deeply, let it out and then backtracked to where the conversation had gone before he sidetracked it. “I sleep here sometimes. My apartment is small. I have issues with confinement.”
“Don’t we all?”
“We can stay right here tonight. Is the mat comfortable enough?”
“Yeah, it’s very comfortable, but . . .”
“But what? Do you want a better pillow? Clean sheets? I have more sheets at my apartment. I kind of have a thing about sheets—”
“The mat’s fine, the pillow’s fine, so are the sheets.” She looked up at the night sky and exhaled. “Um . . . I was hoping . . . to be alone.”
“No.” It came out sounding too much like there would be no discussion. He softened his tone. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Her gaze shot up to meet his, and he recognized the dread. She wanted to be alone. She wanted to cry. She didn’t want him around, and it saddened him. He sighed.
“Okay. Let me get you a few things first.”
He grabbed the sheets and a pillow he’d stored in the spare room at the shop from the previous night. He helped her make the mat more comfortable and left some water.
“Thank you. I’ll be all right.”
Anxious to get rid of me, he thought, and again it disappointed him.
“Okay, good night then,” he said quietly. He didn’t really want to leave her. “Don’t forget to drink some water, and—”
“Paul!” She cut him off a little more irritably than she would have under normal circumstances. Her eyes were already starting to tear up. She wouldn’t be able to hold it back much longer.
“I’m leaving.” He hesitated a second before walking around the corner of the building, where she could no longer see him. He stood for another second, waiting and listening—but nothing. He wondered if he’d assumed wrong.
He sat down on the bench next to the office and waited. Two minutes later, he heard her cry. He pursed his lips and hung his head. Thirty minutes of torture later, he slid silently into the hammock and waited some more. He didn’t know exactly what he was waiting for, but he wasn’t about to leave her, even if she didn’t know he had to be there for her.
Another thirty minutes later, he noticed a difference in the sounds coming from the deck. He hoped it meant she’d made it through the worst of it. Her convulsive sobs had finally settled to a quiet weep with intermittent intakes of staccato breaths.
He climbed out of the hammock and carefully made his way back to her. He didn’t know if she’d heard him, but she didn’t flinch when he climbed onto the mat, next to her. She lay on her side when he snuggled up behind her, put his arm over her, and rested his cheek against hers. A few minutes later, she took a deep breath and fell asleep in his arms.
oOo
Paul didn’t know what woke him. Careful not to wake Rhees, he checked his watch. Only three in the morning.
“Please no!” she cried in a weak voice. “I promise not to tell my mommy,” she whimpered.
“Shh, it’s only a dream.” He tried to comfort her, but when he tried to pull the hair away from her face, she writhed and swatted his hands away.
“Ow! Stop. Please.” She cried and thrashed before she finally woke up and realized where she was.
“Hey, it was just a dream—a bad one.” Paul leaned over her, concerned. “It’s okay. No one’s going to hurt you—I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“I’m sorry.” She panted and took a second to catch her breath, calm down.
“What did you dream about?”
“I don’t know.” Her answer came out curt.
“You’ve already forgotten?” He chuckled warily. He’d heard the things she’d said in her sleep.
“I don’t know . . . yeah,” she said, still out of breath.
“You were scared, and in pain, I think. Ring a bell?” He really wished she’d confide in him.
“No.” She looked up at the early morning sky so she wouldn’t have to see the concern in his eyes anymore. He lay back down so they were both on their backs.
“Well . . . at this point, I usually tell the girls I’ve slept with that it was nice, and I hope we can do it again sometime, but not too soon. Somehow that doesn’t seem right in this case.” He glanced over at her to watch her reaction.
She finally laughed and he felt better hearing it.
“Thank you.”
“For what?” He watched her.
“I don’t know . . . for sticking around? You haven’t left my side—even when I asked you to. That means a lot to me.”
“It’s nothing—just what a friend would do, right?”
“Yeah . . . a friend,” she said. She finally looked at him. Her voice turned quiet. “Thank you for being my friend. I’ve felt kind of alone in the world lately.”
“I’m not that good
a friend.” He knew what kind of person he was, and he didn’t want her getting too comfortable with him.
“You’re the best friend I have.” Her voice level dropped to barely audible.
“That’s not true.” Paul rolled over to face her. “What about Claire? And Dobbs? Tracy and Regina? You have the whole Williams family, too.”
That made her smile. “You’re right. I really do love everyone here. Well, almost everyone.” She tried to laugh. “Claire. Claire is a good friend . . . and Dobbs, but he’s kind of weird around me—ever since I hugged him—when he gave me the peanut butter. I shouldn’t have hugged him. I’m worried he’s afraid I don’t realize he’s married—or that I don’t care that he is—I don’t think he knows me well enough to know I’d never do that.” Paul cleared his throat and neither of them said anything for a minute.
“Do you want to go home?” Paul finally asked, quietly.
“Home?” She smirked.
“You know, Utah. Where your family, your real friends, can take care of you . . . until you get over . . . get better.”
She laughed out loud, and he didn’t understand why. “I don’t have family and I sure as heck don’t have friends at home. I think I’ve told you that.”
He hadn’t forgotten, but he’d convinced himself she’d exaggerated the situation. They lay in silence for a long time.
“Will you have sex with me?” Rhees didn’t break her concentrated stare at the sky when she asked.
Paul chuckled, sure she was joking. “Is this a test? Are you testing my resolve to keep my promise?”
She glanced over at him. “I’m completely serious.”
“No.” It came out fast and brusque. It was the last thing Paul had expected her to say.
“I’m sorry. I—I thought you wanted . . .” She fumbled on the words, embarrassed.
“Rhees.” He tried to laugh but couldn’t pull it off. He rubbed his forehead with his hand and then massaged his temples.
“Not tonight, you have a headache?” They both laughed uncomfortably.
He turned to look at her, his expression grave.
“You know how I’ve wanted you. You have to know, but Rhees, that’s not really what you want.”
“Don’t tell me what I want. I’ve thought this through. I want it—very much.”
“No, you don’t.”
He sounded cross, and she didn’t understand why he’d be upset about her offering him exactly what he’d practically begged her for.
She tried to shake the confusion away. “I do. I realize how stupid I’ve been. I’ve been waiting for a fairytale ending, like there’s supposed to be a magical moment where some, too-good-to-be-true guy comes along and sweeps me off my feet. It’s all a delusion, just like you said. There is no love.”
“Don’t.”
“It’s just biology and I want—I need it to be my decision. I don’t want to be a walking target for every creepazoid out there.” She rolled her head to look at Paul. “I want it to be you.”
“You really don’t want this,” Paul said. “It’s just . . . I’m sure this is just a reaction to what happened.”
“It’s not.” She smiled at him. “Okay, so maybe this new way of thinking is a result of what happened, but only because it’s made me think about it in a more realistic way. I wasn’t being realistic before—just like you said.”
“I was wrong.”
“You don’t really believe that.” She laughed. “I need this. Come on. You’re the perfect man for the job. You told me yourself.”
He jumped up, afraid he might be tempted—he was tempted. “I was wrong. You haven’t waited this long for someone like me.”
“You’d rather it be someone like Mario?” she said dryly.
“No,” he growled. He started to pace. “You’re suffering from post-traumatic-stress-disorder or something. You’d never consider it if that sleazebag hadn’t tried to hurt you.”
“Paul.” She sat up. “I’m not suffering anything. I’ve thought this through. I want to get it over with, be done with it. I want you to do it.”
He gasped. “See! What you just said—that isn’t the way a normal person talks about it. You want me to do it! Be done with it? Get it over with?”
“It doesn’t matter how I say it. I still want it. I want you to have my virginity.”
His voice dropped to almost a whisper. “You’ll hate me . . . when it’s over, you’ll hate me.”
“No I won’t. I’ll be forever grateful to you.”
“Yes, you’ll hate me, and I couldn’t bear that.”
“Oh, for crying out loud. Now you get picky.” She turned her back on him and laughed ironically. “I should have known . . . I’ll just have to find someone else to do it then,” she said under her breath.
“Rhees,” he snarled. He reminded himself why she was acting so irrational and tried to calm down. “Please. You’ll see I’m right. Promise me you’ll wait a few more days before you do anything stup . . . rash.”
Gratefully, he’d caught himself. He needed to tread lightly. He could tell she was considering his opinion, but he knew the line was very thin. If he tipped her even the slightest bit further, her stubborn side would make it impossible to change her mind.
“Do you want me to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder? To have to wonder if every man I come in contact with is looking for a way to take it away from me? I need to do this now—my way.”
He sat down behind her and put his arms around her shoulders. He rested his chin tenderly on the top of her head and sighed.
“Wait a few days, okay? Don’t dig your heels in about this already. You’re going to change your mind.”
“I said I’m not—” She started to react, shaking her head as if she was about to deny he was right again, but he put his finger to her lips and shushed her.
“If you still feel the same way in a few weeks . . .” He sighed in resignation. “We’ll talk about it then, all right?”
“Really?”
He nodded. “I can’t believe I’m not jumping all over this—but yeah. I need you to wait.”
“I’m not going to change my mind,” she assured him.
His lips ran through a few thoughtful contortions before he nudged her jokingly.
“I hope not.”
Chapter 24
Paul borrowed Randy’s motorcycle again and took her home to shower and change out of his clothes. She looked good in his baggy garments. He liked seeing her wearing his clothes, but seeing her in her own was even better—the fit, her sense of style—he really liked her style.
“There’s the girl I remember,” he said when she walked out of her room and into the kitchen, where he waited. “Mmm, you look good enough to eat,” he teased.
“Well, I hope you like your meat raw, because that cold shower isn’t going to cook anything.” She exaggerated a shiver to make her point about how much she hated taking cold showers.
“Yep. That’s the kind of eat I’m talking about.” He smiled and his eyes twinkled with amusement, and then he felt guilty.
oOo
Rhees’ attempted rape and the assault on Shelli were the most preferred topics of conversation at the shop and around the island. Paul’s senses had slipped into overdrive. He suspected everyone and watched everyone watch Rhees. They watched him—watched how he interacted with her—but it made him think. After mulling it over in his mind all day, he’d come up with an idea, but he needed to think about it longer. It would mean making some major changes.
“I think we should go out for dinner tonight,” Paul suggested.
“Okay.” She didn’t protest.
It shocked him a little. She’d complained every time he offered to spend his money on her and she always offe
red to cook instead. They’d compromised, taking turns, her cooking and him ordering out. He grinned and winked at her before realizing Mitch had watched the exchange. Mitch gave him a sly nod of approval and it only reaffirmed Paul’s thoughts about his idea.
oOo
Paul and Rhees sat on their mat on the deck, eating pizza. They’d planned to eat at the restaurant, but just as they walked in, before they’d even been seated, she’d suffered a panic attack and he’d whisked her away, barking out his order to the waitress for a pizza and some wine, and paying extra to have it delivered. Rhees had calmed down when they reached the shop. She’d apologized and said she felt safe there.
He took a sip of wine. “I’ve been thinking.” He paused, trying to decide if his approach to the subject was right. He’d never had this conversation before.
“That could be trouble.” She giggled, and it made him smile. While she’d seemed so fragile the last few days, it felt good to see the real Rhees peeking through.
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” He laughed. “Do you remember how, the night we had ice cream—the next day, everyone was sure we’d slept together?”
“Don’t remind me,” Rhees said, aghast. “I think some people still have trouble believing we didn’t.”
“I don’t think they do.” He remembered how believable her denial had been, and he chuckled half-heartedly that she’d just done it again—reacted as if the idea disgusted her. “You know how you said you want to . . . you know?” He winced. Making his proposal was turning out to be harder than he’d imagined it would be. He’d negotiated multi-million dollar deals, but he felt completely inept at what he tried to suggest they try now. She gave him her undivided attention, which only made him feel more self-conscious.
“I’ve been thinking. It wouldn’t be very hard to make people think that we—well, you know my reputation. It wouldn’t be hard to make people believe that I—that we slept together—without really having to.”
Wet: Part 1 Page 27
