by Sarah Hegger
Nate reappeared in the hallway. “It’s all clear,” he said. “Get settled and I’ll make us some dinner.”
“You don’t need to do that.” Bella didn’t think she’d eat much anyway.
Nate gave her a hard look. “I know I don’t need to, but I’d like to. Why don’t you have a shower and I’ll have dinner ready when you’re done?”
A shower to get the hospital stink off her skin sounded great. How is it that, in theory, the cleanest, most sanitary place had an undeniable smell of sickness? Her bathroom looked exactly as she’d left it. Had it really been only three days ago? The jeans she hadn’t put in the hamper still lay on the floor where she’d dropped them. Her toothbrush lay on the counter next to the toothpaste tube. She hadn’t put the cap on.
Bella flipped on the water. She turned her back to the mirror and stripped off her clothes. Staving off the horrible vulnerability of her nakedness, she slipped into the shower. She didn’t want to see her body. See what Adam had seen. She hurried through her shower and dressed in some old sweats that covered nearly all her skin.
She followed the incredible smell into the kitchen.
Nate had set the table and glanced up as she walked in. His smile threatened to take her back to a place she didn’t want to go. A place of intimacy and warmth between them. She needed to keep the ice inside her intact. The ice was safe, pain free.
“Something smells good,” she said.
“I worked with what you had in the fridge.” He shrugged and brought a casserole dish to the table.
Bella couldn’t honestly say what they ate, but it had bits of bacon, cubes of chicken, and vegetables. She barely tasted the food but ate more to keep Nate from insisting than anything else.
Nate leaned back in his chair, hooking one elbow over the back. “I could stay. Tonight.”
“No.” The ice mustn’t crack. Loving Nate threatened the ice. “No, thank you. I’ll be fine.”
He frowned. “Bella?”
“It’s fine. I’m fine.” She got up and cleared her plate. Standing by the sink, she stared into the night-darkened garden. In that abandoned house something had gone missing. She’d left some element of herself on that awful table. Inside, she was cold and empty. She had nothing more to give.
“Babe.” Nate’s hand was on the small of her back. “Can we talk?”
“No.” He threatened her fragile control. Heartsore and hanging on by a thread, her composure still remained hers.
Nate rubbed circles over her spine. “Okay.” He took a breath. “How about I talk and you listen?”
“I can’t.” His strong body provided a barrier between her and her thoughts. Bella leaned into him and pressed her face into his chest.
“No talking.” He rested his cheek on her head. “Let’s get you to bed.” He led her down the corridor to her bedroom. “Are you going to sleep in that?”
Bella nodded. She didn’t want to see her body. She didn’t want eyes on her body at all.
Nate pulled back the duvet and she climbed into bed.
The night pressed around her, quiet and dark, and despite what she’d said in the kitchen, it suddenly seemed full of unseen threats. “Nate?”
He looked at her.
“Could you . . . stay? As a friend, I mean.”
He grimaced, then nodded. “I’ll get ready for bed. I can sleep in the living room.” He looked around. “Or maybe on the floor in here.”
Now they’d gone beyond ridiculous. Bella patted the other side of her bed. “Here is fine.”
* * *
By the time he’d showered and finished in the bathroom, Bella was asleep.
Knees curled into her chest, she lay on her side.
So tiny and fragile and still pale from her ordeal, his heart hurt looking at her. Try as he might, he couldn’t keep the reel of horror out of his head, of what might have happened if he and Simon hadn’t gotten there in time. As he went through the details in reports, again and again, the images haunted him.
Moving carefully, he slid into bed beside her.
Murmuring, she sought his heat.
Nate folded himself around her from behind. Soap and the honey smell of her shampoo surrounded him. Needing skin contact, he slipped his hand beneath her sweatshirt and onto the warmth of her belly, just above the adhesive dressing.
He’d lived his whole life never expecting to fall in love and, certainly, never believing someone could love him back. Happily ever after belonged to guys who sacked up, did the right thing. Guys like his brother Matt. Him? Not so much.
Seeing Adam with that scalpel on Bella’s skin, knowing he stood inches away from losing her had a way of slapping a guy into wise-up time. He loved her. Probably had loved her for some time. How long? He couldn’t say, and it didn’t seem to matter anymore. Sitting by her bed in the hospital had brought more unwelcome realizations. She had offered her love to him and he’d thrown it back at her. He winced, thinking of all the bullshit things he’d said to her. All in a desperate effort to keep her in the safe zone. Safe for him, because Bella had never played it safe. She wore her heart on her sleeve. Hell, she waved it around like a banner for the world to see.
He didn’t deserve her, but he was through pretending he didn’t want to try. Maybe she would realize what a bad deal she’d made and walk away from him somewhere down the line. But never taking the chance, never knowing for sure, that would be worse. He’d nearly lost her while he dicked around.
He whispered the words into her hair. “I love you.”
* * *
Morning brought a lazy fall of thick, heavy snow. Fat flakes meandered down to join the growing accumulation.
Nate rubbed his gritty eyes. He hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep.
Bella stirred against him and opened her eyes. “Hi.”
“Hi yourself.” As he propped himself up to get a better look at her, his tiredness dissipated.
She looked well rested this morning. Even sported a little color in her face.
“Breakfast.” He hauled ass out of bed. “You stay there and I’ll bring you some coffee.”
Bella gaped at him.
Yeah, he’d earned that look. Now he needed to earn it right off her face again.
He hauled on his pants.
“Nate?” Bella’s voice stopped him at the door. “Why are you doing all this?”
Tell her! screamed his brain. His chickenshit heart yelled it back down again. The girl had just gotten out of the hospital yesterday. He needed to go slowly. “Eggs okay?”
He made tracks to the kitchen.
Bella followed him. “Nate?”
He disappeared into the fridge. Cool air hit his hot face. He could spend all day in here. What a dick! He turned and faced her. He needed to finesse this, say the right thing. You didn’t come right out and blurt shit like this. “I love you.”
She blinked at him. “You what?”
Damn! “I love you, Bella.”
“No, you don’t.” Bella laughed, but it had a bitter edge. “Okay, you love me like someone you’ve known for most of your life. But you don’t love-love me.”
So. Not the way he’d seen this going. “Yes, I do.”
“Ah, Nate.” She slumped, like someone had let all the air out of her. “You only think you do.”
“I’m pretty sure I know it.” She might be hurting his feelings here. The experience was new to him, so he couldn’t be entirely sure. But it certainly sucked. “What the hell, Bella? I tell you I love you and you react like this.”
“Nate.” She twisted her hands together. “You got a fright when you saw me with . . . like that. It scared you. It made you rethink things.”
Okay, she’d pretty much nailed him there.
“This is a reaction.” She shrugged. “How many times have you told me you’re not the commitment sort?”
“Maybe I’ve changed.”
“Overnight?” She shook her head. “The only thing that changed is what happened to me.”
/> For all of fifteen seconds Nate thought it over and knew she was wrong. This change hadn’t happened overnight. In fact, it had begun as he sat in her kitchen after hanging the Christmas lights. The only thing that had happened overnight was him waking the hell up. “No.”
“I can’t do this right now.” Rubbing her hand over her eyes, she looked worn out and beaten down. “I’ve waited for most of my life to hear you say that.” She slid into a chair as if her legs refused to hold her up. “I would have given anything to hear you say those words, but not like this. The thing is, Nate, when you’ve waited for someone all your life, you want everything from them. Not some fear-based reaction that won’t last.”
His timing sucked. True, he could go on about the slow-leak epiphany that had gone on for weeks now, but he needed to be patient. Keeping himself busy, he got the coffee started and made the eggs.
Seeing Bella with Adam had shocked the sense into him, but he wasn’t the one still in shock. Adam had taken something from Bella. Working up in SLC, he’d seen it in all the victims, the delayed reaction that set in. An attack like the one Bella had suffered took the illusion of security from its victims. The world suddenly became a much scarier, less reliable place. In the aftermath, victims confronted their own vulnerability. The screwed-up part of this was that the victims had to claw their lives back. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right, but if they wanted their lives back, they needed to find their way past this. Otherwise they spent their lives trapped in the fear.
He hoped like hell the killing bullet had been his and not Simon’s.
Bella glanced up as he slid the eggs in front of her. “Thank you.”
Her beautiful blue eyes, always sparkling with life and joy, had dimmed. The smile that used to knock him on his ass had been turned way down low.
Nate wanted nothing more than to get those things back for her.
ChapterThirty-Three
Ignoring her protests, Liz drove Bella to her store.
“Four weeks.” Liz parked the car and turned and stared at her. “It’s time.”
Even her therapist had hinted it was time, but Bella wished they’d all leave her alone. “I’m here, aren’t I?” Before this, her twice-weekly therapy sessions were the only things that had taken her out of the house and she liked it that way.
January had stayed surprisingly mild. The clear, bright day held no hint of threat, but her legs still shook as she climbed out of the car.
Liz took her hand and gave it a squeeze.
Signs of construction littered the sidewalk outside the store. Piles of lumber neatly stacked against the front window. A team unloaded sheets of drywall.
Stopping at the door, Bella couldn’t make her legs move.
Liz stood beside her. “We can do this. Just go in there, look around, and we can leave again.”
Bella took a deep breath. If it would get Liz off her back, she’d do it.
“This is your business,” Liz said. “You’ve put your heart and soul into it. Don’t let him take that from you.”
Bella’s heart thundered in her ears and she felt dizzy.
“Bella?” Matt appeared in the doorway. He wore plaster dust in his hair and a face mask balanced on his forehead like a horn. “You came.”
Matt still got down and dirty with his crews. He said the work soothed him and helped him think.
“Hey, Matt.” She put one foot in front of the other.
The last time she’d stood in her store, Adam had attacked her. It almost seemed like that girl had splintered off from the original Bella. When she could step back and be splinter Bella, it became easier to think about what had happened. Her therapist, however, wasn’t a big fan of splinter Bella. She never said anything, but nothing got the woman scribbling in her jaunty notebook faster. “I came to see how you were getting on.”
Matt glanced at Liz. “Good. We’re doing good.”
“Can I come in?”
With a grimace, Matt stepped aside.
Bella walked into her store and stopped. Matt had transformed the place. Standing braced for an onslaught of unpleasant memories, she suddenly wanted to laugh. The relief was sharp-edged. Nothing looked the same. The dreadful pink had all disappeared, along with the awful carpet. Even the smell of the store had changed.
“We’ve finished all the framing.” Matt kept pace with her. “Electrics are all in. We just need to finish the drywall, plaster, and paint.”
Under her feet, thick paper crackled. “Are the floors done?”
“Yup.” Matt smiled at her. “And you were right: The darker wood looks great.”
His smile reminded her so much of Nate that it hurt.
Nate had been a constant feature in her life over the last four weeks. He popped in and out a couple of times a day. Often, he stayed long enough to cook her dinner and then watched TV with her until she got tired enough to sleep. Some nights he slept over, but always he waited for her to ask, and other than cuddling, he didn’t lay a finger on her. Fortunately, he seemed to have recovered from the whole love thing. She was glad; she really was. Sure, she thought about those three words a lot, and how it had felt hearing them from him. But the words never penetrated past the surface fog that filled her these days. The thing was, she liked the gray. The gray surrounded her in a comfortable cloud. If light penetrated the mist, it came with a sharp pain she ducked from.
Bella ran her hand over the smooth pale oak shelves Matt had installed. Simple, classic, and deep enough to allow her to create piles of color. If she ever got around to ordering new stock. Her suppliers were waiting for her to move forward with her orders. She’d been sitting on placing those orders since the attack. Every time she fired up her computer, she ended up on social media sites. Hours of trolling Facebook, crying at some posts and railing at others. Just idly flipping through the details of other people’s lives.
Without being asked, Liz had taken over the internet business. She was really good at it, and Bella was considering taking her on part-time, but as soon as the thought formed, she allowed it to drift away again.
Some small part of her brain understood she was stuck, but she rather liked it there. Her therapist had been prodding her about taking action during the last couple of visits. And she would. But every time she came close to doing something—anything—she retreated again.
When Liz had come around this morning and bullied her into the car, it had almost been a relief, doing something without having to be the one to initiate the act.
Sliding open a new drawer, Bella brushed away wood shavings. She’d been so excited about filling these drawers with naughty lingerie. Stuff she kept for special customers. The sort of lingerie that would make a woman glow just knowing she wore it.
So many plans. Good plans she’d spent hours formulating, and around her, they faced off with her and demanded she finish what she had started. The construction in the store challenged her to get moving again. Bella’s chest tightened and breathing became harder. “We can go now,” she said to Liz.
“Have you seen these rails?” Liz put as much enthusiasm as she could into the question.
Bella loved her for the effort. Dutifully, she walked over and admired the hanging spaces. “Very nice. Matt does excellent work.”
“This is all you, Bella.” Matt ran his large hand over the finish on the sides. “This was your vision, I’m just the jock with a hammer who made it happen.”
Her vision. Her plans. Her excitement. She could see them as a part of her life that stretched out in the past but didn’t seem part of her reality anymore. She smiled because he seemed to be waiting for some reaction. “It looks great, Matt.”
* * *
The outer door to Nate’s office slammed open and Matt charged in.
“Nate here?” Matt hadn’t seen him yet and he’d asked the question of Gabby.
She pointed to where Nate stood getting himself some coffee.
Matt turned, steam coming out of his ears. Matt didn’t get mad often
, but when he did, it paid to give it some time and attention.
“Got a minute?”
It wasn’t really a request, and Nate nodded and motioned him into his office.
Heat rolling off him in waves, Matt dogged his heels.
Nate shut the door.
“What the fuck?” Matt pounded Nate’s desk so hard an empty paper cup jumped off. “What the fuck!”
Nate waited.
Matt pushed his hands through his dusty hair. “Bella came by the store.”
“Ah.” Nate’s chest throbbed in that special place that was all Bella. Day after day, he watched her walk through her life as if she wasn’t really a part of it. Her detachment cut deep into him each time he faced it, but he kept coming back around. Firstly, because that dispassionate ghost was his Bella, and secondly, wherever or whoever she chose to be, right beside her was the only place he wanted to stand.
Matt shook his head, clearly struggling to find the right words. “Is she always like this?”
“Pretty much.” Nate shrugged, as if it didn’t carve a trench through him. “She needs time to deal with what happened to her.”
“But . . . Bella.” Matt threw himself into a chair. The legs screeched on the linoleum floor. “Bella is . . . was . . . Bella.”
Nate almost laughed. How to put Bella into words? That stupid kid’s saying about sugar and spice and all things nice, that was Bella. Or that had been Bella. The woman walking around in a daze bore an uncanny resemblance to that soap bubble of pure light that used to drift around Ghost Falls.
“Isn’t there anything we can do?” Matt leaned his elbows on his knees. “It’s like she’s there but she’s not there.”
“I don’t think she is.” Nate moved closer to Matt, needing the connection with another person who saw what he did. “I think our Bella is locked down tight inside that shell. She’s scared to come out.”
“We have to get her back.” Matt glanced up at him. “I liked the old Bella just fine.”
“I loved the old Bella.” No point in pretending anymore. “I love this one too.”
