Needing Her

by Allie Everhart

  “What are you talking about?”

  “We’ll discuss it in the limo. We can’t be here.”

  “What about my car?”

  “Someone is coming to get it. He’ll drive it back to the office.”

  My mind raced, trying to figure out what had just happened. The man on the ground wasn’t moving. He was dead. I’d killed a man. I’d taken a life. But I had to. It was self defense. One of us was going to die.

  I clicked the safety on my gun and put it back in its holder. As I went to get in the limo, I stopped when a black car drove up next to us.

  “Pearce,” my father yelled from inside the limo. “Get in here. We’re leaving.”

  I did as he said, and as we drove away I watched two men cloaked in black lift the body from the ground. Then we turned onto the street and the scene was no longer visible.

  “What just happened?” I asked my father.

  He’d opened the liquor compartment in the limo and was pouring himself a scotch. “You passed the test.”

  I didn’t know what he meant, but I knew it was bad. Acid rose to the back of my throat and burned when I swallowed.

  He pointed to the bottle of scotch. “Would you like a drink?”

  “What test?”

  “The test to see if you’re man enough to perform your duties.”

  “What duties?”

  “The duties you will be performing as a member.”

  When he said it, I remembered back to the day three years earlier, when I’d watched my father kill that homeless man in the alley. That was the day he told me about the organization. I’d tried to erase that day from my mind and pretend what he’d told me was all a lie, but this was a harsh reminder that it was true. I would soon be a member and be forced to do things I didn’t want to do.

  But I still wasn’t sure what was going on. I asked my father once again to explain what had just happened behind the loading dock.

  “How did you know that man would be there when I was?”

  “I hired him.” My father took a drink of his scotch.

  “You hired him to shoot me?”

  “Yes, but he wouldn’t have killed you. His gun had blanks in it. But he didn’t know that.”

  “That was all a setup?”

  “Correct. And it went exactly as planned.”

  “You’re saying you wanted me to kill him?”

  “You had to know what it feels like. Now you’ll be prepared for when you do it for real.”

  “For real? What I just did was real!”

  “Technically, I suppose it was, but when you get an actual assignment it will be different. It will be premeditated. You’ll have to plan it out. And if you don’t plan right, you’ll have to take over the assignment yourself and do what you just did. Only next time, if your intended target aims a gun at you, it won’t have blanks in it. You can’t hesitate, Pearce. You just have to shoot. Hopefully, now that you’ve done it once, you won’t hesitate.”

  “The man said he had to shoot me or something would happen to her. What did he mean?”

  “If he didn’t complete the job, I would’ve killed his girlfriend.”

  “But he didn’t kill me. So are you going after his girlfriend?”

  “No. I don’t need to. That was just an incentive I gave him to make sure he’d follow through on the job. Now let’s talk about the assignments, which is the whole reason for the test.”

  He went on to explain how the assignments worked and how not completing them successfully would mean punishment and embarrassment for our family.

  “I can’t risk having you tarnish the family name,” he said. “You’re weak, Pearce. You always have been, despite all my efforts to make you strong. I blame your mother for that. She was always saying I should go easier on you. But no more. You’re a grown man and you need to be treated as such. You need to embrace your responsibilities and make your family proud.”

  He continued to talk but I was unable to respond. I was too shocked to speak. I’d just killed a man for no reason other than my father wanting to teach me yet another one of his lessons. This time, how to kill.

  I try to forget that day. Wipe it from my memory. But it never goes away. And whenever I get an assignment notice, it comes flooding back, along with all the other bad things I’ve done, like killing that secretary. I’ll never forgive myself for that, or any of the other deaths I’ve caused or will cause in the future. I tell myself that it wasn’t me who took those lives. That it was the side of me my father created. The dark side. Not the real me.

  With my mind still on the assignment, I leave the office and go back to my loft. I sit on the couch, staring at the blank TV screen, imagining what they’re going to make me do.

  I don’t want to be here. It’s too quiet. Too empty. Too dark. I need to get out of here. I need to see Rachel. Being around her always lifts my spirits. Makes me feel like the world around me isn’t so dark.

  Or lonely.

  Or hopeless.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  16

  RACHEL

  There’s knocking on the door. I turn the TV down. It’s almost ten and I’m afraid to answer the door this late. I didn’t hear Shelby come home so it can’t be her.

  The knocking continues. I go check the peephole and see that it’s Pearce. What is he doing here? And why didn’t he call first? Given how strict he is about manners, it seems odd that he didn’t call before coming over.

  I’m still upset with him for how he acted this morning, but when I open the door I can’t help but smile. He’s wearing the jeans and black polo shirt I picked out for him. They look good on him. Really good. His large shoulders stretch the fabric of the shirt and the band on the sleeve hugs his muscular arms. He needs to ditch those suits more often and show off that body of his.

  “Hello, Rachel.” He says it in a very formal way.

  “Hello, Pearce,” I say just as formally.

  I wake up from obsessing over his body and come to my senses. Why is he here so late? To have sex again? Granted, it was amazing sex. I wouldn’t mind doing it again. But I can’t. I need to slow this relationship down and get the focus off sex. So if he came here for that, he’s not getting it.

  “I’m sorry to have stopped over uninvited, but I needed to give you this.” He hands me the bag from the jewelry store that holds the vase he bought me. “And these.” The hand that was behind his back appears, holding a dozen yellow tulips.

  “Thank you. They’re beautiful. Come on in.”

  He steps inside. “If you’re busy, I can leave. It was inappropriate for me to stop by without calling.”

  He’s still using that formal speech pattern. Last night and this morning, his speech was more casual, but tonight he’s back to being formal and I don’t know why.

  “I’m not busy. I was just watching TV.” I take the vase out of the box and set it in the sink, filling it with water. “You didn’t have to get me more flowers.”

  “I wanted to get you your favorite. I didn’t know your favorite color but the yellow reminded me of the dress you wore when I first met you.”

  I’m surprised he remembered that.

  “I love yellow, but I like most any color.” I put the tulips in the water, then place the vase on the kitchen counter next to the roses.

  Adam never bought me flowers. He said they were a waste of money. Instead, he bought me plants, which he said were more practical. But to me they were work because I was stuck taking care of them.

  “Do you want to sit down?” I motion him to the couch.

  “I thought maybe I could take you to another movie.” He points to himself. “I even dressed for it.”

  “I see that. You look good.”

  I smile as I say it, but he doesn’t smile back. I’m not even sure that he heard me. He seems out of it. His eyelids are heavy and his shoulders are drooping. He looks exhausted. Work must’ve worn him out because he was full of energy this morning.

  “It’s late,
” I tell him. “Let’s just stay here and watch TV.”

  He nods and we go sit on the couch. He’s not being as affectionate as usual. He hasn’t even kissed me. Something’s wrong. He’s distant and seems sad. Or depressed.

  Without saying anything, I reach my arms around him and hug his chest, my head on his shoulder. He slowly puts his arms around me, hugging me back. He kisses the top of my head, then takes some deep breaths.

  Something is definitely wrong. He’s completely different than he was earlier. He was quiet in the car this morning, but now he’s more than just quiet. He’s upset about something.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing here.” He said it so quietly it’s like he was talking to himself.

  I pick up the remote and turn off the TV. “What do you mean?”

  “I couldn’t be at my apartment and I didn’t want to—”

  “Didn’t want to what?”

  “Never mind. I just needed to see you.”

  I wanted to see him too, but not if it’s just for sex.

  “Pearce.” I wait until he looks at me. “I need to know what happened this morning. The way you left like that, I thought maybe you were just…using me.”

  “No.” He turns toward me and takes my hand. “Rachel, I would never do that. This morning had nothing to do with you. I was just angry that I’d been called into the office on a Sunday. I’d hoped to spend the day with you and instead I had to read contracts all day.”

  “Well, next time, you need to at least say goodbye. And a kiss would’ve been nice.”

  “You’re right. I’m very sorry about that.” He puts his hand on the side of my face and leans in and gives me a soft, gentle kiss. “That was for this morning.”

  I smile. “You didn’t kiss me hello just now either.”

  His hand remains on my face as he kisses me again, a little longer this time. “Hello, Rachel.” I feel his warm breath over my lips as he says it.

  “Hi,” I say, trying to keep control of my body, which is telling my head to rip his clothes off right now.

  “Are there any other kinds of kisses I neglected to give you?” he asks in his deep sexy voice.

  “I don’t think so.” I look into his silvery blue eyes, then down to his strong jawline which is covered in a thick layer of stubble. Damn, he’s hot. Resisting him is going to be very, very hard.

  “Then can I kiss you for no reason at all?” he asks.

  “I suppose that’d be okay.”

  He kisses me again, this time a deep, fiery-hot kiss that makes my body want to repeat what we did last night. And this morning. But I can’t.

  I gently push him back. “Pearce, we need to slow this down. I’m not saying last night was a mistake. It was great, but I don’t usually do that so soon into a relationship. I like to get to know someone better before we get to that stage.”

  He nods. “Okay.”

  That’s it? I thought he’d insist we still do it while getting to know each other. He’s probably used to having sex right away. Maybe even on the first date.

  “So we’re good?” I ask him. “We’ll just continue dating?”

  His lips turn up. “We have to. You have all these activities planned for me and I did agree to try them.”

  “That’s true. When are we going out again?”

  “I don’t know. My work schedule is very unpredictable. I’ll have to call you and let you know.” He pauses. “But even when I don’t have time to take you on a formal date, would you mind if I just came over? Maybe a couple nights a week after work?” He looks down at my hand and softly rubs it. “I like just being with you.”

  “Of course you can come over.”

  He lifts his head, smiling a little. “I promise to call next time.”

  “That would be good.” I laugh as I look down at my pink sweat pants and white t-shirt. “It would give me time to clean myself up. I’m kind of a mess right now. I don’t even have makeup on.” My hair is also a mess. I tug on my ponytail, trying to straighten it.

  He holds my chin, his eyes moving over my face. “You don’t need to do anything. You’re beautiful.”

  I glance away. “I’m just saying that you’re probably used to being with women who are—”

  “No.” He shakes his head. “No other woman even compares to you.” He laughs, but not in a funny way, but more of incredulous way. “It’s amazing to me that you don’t know that.”

  “Thank you.” I glance away again. “That’s very sweet of you to say.”

  He gets quiet. His hand drops from my face and he sits back on the couch, his eyes glazed over, like he suddenly remembered something and now his mind is elsewhere. What is going on with him tonight? He doesn’t seem like himself. It’s like something’s weighing him down, causing him stress. I wish he would tell me what’s wrong so I could at least try to help.

  “Pearce.” I touch his arm, waking him from his thoughts. “Are you okay?”

  He looks at me like he’s surprised by the question. That’s strange. Does nobody ever ask him that?

  “It was just a difficult day at work.” He attempts a smile but I can tell it’s forced. “But I’m fine now.”

  “Did you have dinner?”

  “No. I wasn’t hungry.”

  How could he not eat dinner? He’d have to eat a lot to fuel a body that big.

  “I’d offer to make you something, but I doubt you’d want to eat canned tuna or mac and cheese. How about ice cream? I make a really good sundae.”

  “I don’t eat ice cream.”

  “You don’t? Why not?”

  “I’ve just outgrown it. It’s for children.”

  “It’s not for children. It’s for anyone.”

  “Perhaps. But in my household it was only allowed during childhood on birthdays. And after the age of 10, it wasn’t allowed at all.”

  “Then that’s your new thing to try today. Eating ice cream.” I go in the kitchen and pull it out of the freezer. “Do you want it with crushed cookies? That’s how I usually eat it.”

  “Rachel, I don’t need ice cream.”

  “Nobody needs ice cream. It’s a want. We’ll skip the cookies and just have the ice cream.”

  I scoop it out into some bowls and bring them over to the couch. I hand him his. “It’s chocolate.”

  He takes a bite. “Hmm. Yes, I remember eating this as a child. It’s very good.”

  He takes another bite, and another after that, and soon he’s finished the entire bowl while I’m only half done.

  “I’ll get you some more.”

  He doesn’t tell me no so I fill up another whole bowl. He finishes that one just as I’m finishing my first.

  “I think we’ve decided you like ice cream,” I say.

  “I think so too.”

  I take our bowls to the sink. I look over and see Pearce rubbing his temples. He looks so exhausted.

  “Do you want to go lie down? You look really tired.”

  He gets up. “I should go. You have class in the morning.”

  Now that he’s here, I don’t want him to leave. I like having him here, and when he’s not around I miss him. And I’d feel better if he stayed. Between that man coming by uninvited and my mom’s comments about this being an unsafe neighborhood, I’m not feeling great about being alone tonight. I don’t think Pearce should be alone either. Something’s bothering him and it’s worrying me. He says he’s okay but I can tell that he’s not.

  “Maybe you could stay.”

  He looks surprised. “Stay, as in overnight?”

  “Yes, but just to sleep. Nothing more.”

  Who am I kidding? The two of us in the same bed? With the attraction we have to each other? But I really want him here, so we’ll just have to use some restraint when it comes to that.

  “I didn’t bring anything,” he says.

  “What do you need?”

  “Something to sleep in.”

  “Just sleep in your boxers.”

  He’s looking
at me like I’m crazy. He’s thinking the same thing I am. That we won’t be able to control ourselves. Not after what we did last night and this morning.

  “I don’t know, Rachel. This may not be the best idea.”

  “I’d feel better if you were here. Shelby’s not home and I’d just feel better if I wasn’t alone tonight. Would you stay? Please?”

  He smiles. “Of course.”

  I take him in my room and get ready for bed. I put on pajama pants and a t-shirt while he strips down to his boxers. I’m staring at his bare chest, lean and ripped and leading down to—I stop my eyes before they go there. What was I thinking? I can’t be in bed with him like that!

  “Are you getting in?” he asks.

  He’s in my bed now and I’m standing beside it, not moving.

  “Yes.” I get under the covers. We’re facing each other, the glimmer from the streetlights filtering through the blinds. I notice he now seems much more awake. I am too.

  “So. Rough day?” I ask him, trying to use conversation to keep our minds off what we really want to do.

  “You could say that.” Our bodies aren’t touching but he slides his hand over to mine and holds it.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Not really.”

  “The sooner you tell me about yourself, the sooner I’ll get to know you and the sooner we can. . . you know.”

  He laughs. “Then go ahead. Ask me whatever you’d like. I’ll do my best to answer.”

  “Do you like your job?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m not interested in the chemical industry. I would’ve preferred to start my own company and build it from the ground up.”

  “What kind of company?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ve never allowed myself to think about it because it’s not an option. I’m an only child, which means I’m the only one who can take over as CEO when my father retires.”

  “They could hire someone else.”

  “It doesn’t work that way. My father would never allow that to happen. He wants to keep it in the family.”

  “Do you get along with your father?”

  “Next question.”

  His tone was harsh and a little angry. I’m trying to get him to relax so I decide not to ask him more about his dad.