Forever Only Once

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Forever Only Once Page 8

by Carrie Ann Ryan


  Had I spooked her?

  Hell, I didn’t know, but something was off. Things seemed to be going right, and then she backed away.

  Maybe it wasn’t about me, or perhaps the whole idea of what we could have had was just that, an idea.

  I didn’t know, but that cryptic text on top of everything that was going on with Chris told me that maybe I should go to bed early like I had said she might be doing. Because I had no idea what the fuck I was going to do, and now I was more confused than ever.

  Chapter 7

  Hazel

  * * *

  I ran, my feet slamming into the ground, slapping against the pavement since I was barefoot, rain coating my hair, my shoulders, forcing my silk dress to cling to me.

  I didn’t know why I was barefoot, nor why I was wearing a dress, but I ran.

  I ran.

  My heart thundered in my ears, and bile filled my throat. It was so real, I could taste it. Everything was just so real.

  The terror in my heart, the fact that I could barely catch my breath, all of it told me that this wasn’t a joke, it wasn’t a dream. This was real. I couldn’t focus, couldn’t breathe.

  A dark laugh slid along my skin, deep as if it were from hell itself. I screamed, but no sound came out. There was nowhere for me to go, no one for me to run to. No one could hear me scream, just like in the horror movies that I refused to watch anymore.

  I found myself in a forest, lightning flashing brightly amongst the leaves as I ran, twigs digging into my feet, leaving a trail of blood. A branch slapped me in the face, a thin one so it only left a bloody line down my flesh, but I kept running. Mud slid between my toes, and I slipped, slid. But I kept going. I had to.

  The laugh was closer now, and I could feel his breath on my neck.

  I kept running, kept fighting, and I found myself in front of a house, one that was so familiar.

  I slammed my fist against the door, screaming. “Let me in! Help! Please, help me!”

  The doorknob twisted, and light blinded me, but I could see the shadow within, and I knew it wasn’t the man who laughed. No, it was something far scarier.

  I looked at a face that was my own, the visage of the unknowing, someone who had thought they knew everything.

  I looked back at myself in my cardigan and soft cashmere pants. And I saw the bruise on my cheek, the innocence gone from my gaze.

  I saw myself, the person I had once been, the moment everything had changed.

  And then the laugh came again, and we both screamed.

  I woke up, my body shaking, but I was fine.

  I was alive.

  I was whole.

  And I was safe.

  I ran my hands over my body, checking to make sure nothing was wrong. I noticed that I was sweat-slick, but that was fine. I was always covered in sweat when I woke up from those dreams.

  Of course, the twisted ending of that particular dream had been new, as I had mixed two night terrors that I normally had. However, I wasn’t too surprised by that. After all, knowing that he was out of jail meant that these dreams would keep coming, even if he wasn’t anywhere near me.

  It had just been a text, a taunt, but he wouldn’t come near me.

  He knew that if he tried, he would end up in jail for longer than the four years he’d already spent there.

  That would be the third strike, and there was no coming back from that.

  And if I kept telling myself that, that I would be safe because of the legal system, maybe I would one day believe it.

  Thomas was not going to hurt me. I wouldn’t let him.

  I slid out of bed, my pepper spray in one hand, my phone in the other, and walked around the house in my panties and a tank top, ensuring that all the windows were locked, all the blinds were shut tight, and my doors had all of their locks engaged. I went through my video surveillance system, ensuring that nobody had come around creeping when I was asleep. I found nothing.

  I was as safe as I was going to get—except for when I slept.

  At those times, I couldn’t force the dreams away.

  It was hard enough when I was awake. When I was awake, I couldn’t hold back the thoughts. I could, just not well enough. When I dreamt, they never went away. When I wasn’t asleep, I could tell myself that everything was fine, and the safety I had given myself was enough.

  I wasn’t sure if that fear would ever go away entirely, and now that Thomas was out of jail, there would never be true safety. Especially not when he had already sent a text trying to threaten me.

  I didn’t know if he was near, or if he was watching. But it didn’t matter. I had to get over it.

  I had to believe.

  Because I had things to do.

  I showered, scrubbing my skin longer than usual because I wanted the remembered feel of his breath on the back of my neck to go away.

  I didn’t think it would ever actually go away.

  After, I stood there in a towel, blew out my hair, and put on the beginnings of my makeup.

  I had things to do for the day, papers to grade, research to go over. Later tonight, if I actually let myself, I had a date.

  Not my first one since Thomas, and not even my first date with Cross, but it was still like it was the first for everything. Perhaps because it was something deliberate this time? I had agreed to this second date. It wasn’t the first that had been accidental.

  I didn’t know what it was, but it worried me enough that I couldn’t focus. I was so scared.

  What if Thomas was watching? What if he ignored the restraining order? After all, it was merely a piece of paper.

  And that couldn’t protect me.

  I put on comfortable clothing, knowing I would change later, and then went to my office to begin work.

  An hour in, and two cups of coffee later, my phone rang, and I jumped.

  I cursed myself, the fear flooding my body and running down to my fingers as I calmed my breathing.

  It wasn’t Thomas. No, he wouldn’t call. He would lurk, he would text, and he would save his voice and his laughter and his breath for the last.

  Bile filled my throat again, tasting just like it had in my dream. I answered the phone.

  “Hello?” I asked, my voice shaky.

  “What’s wrong?” Paris asked.

  “Just lost in grading, I suppose,” I lied.

  “Talk to me, what’s wrong?” Paris asked again.

  My friend was like a dog with a bone and wouldn’t let me be until she figured out what was wrong. While I loved that about her sometimes, right now, I was just tired.

  Maybe tonight wouldn’t be the best night to go out on a date with Cross. I clearly wasn’t ready, and I would only make things worse by pretending that I was.

  “I’m really doing fine,” I said, my voice stronger this time. “Just a little lost in grading.”

  “That’s a lie, and we both know it, but I’ll let you keep to that if you want. Just know that I’m here for you. And so are the others. Talk to them if I’m too much for you.”

  I winced, even though she couldn’t see me. “It’s not you. I promise. I just need to think. I love you, and I trust you with so much. You’re never too much for me,” I said honestly. Paris might be a lot to handle for some, but I loved that about her. She never took no for an answer, and she was so strong. I was a little envious.

  I also knew that Paris had her own issues when it came to that strength. It was a shield, and not everybody understood that. They didn’t need to. Because it was for her and her alone. And she had her reasons.

  “If you’re sure,” Paris said. “Anyway, I just wanted to check in with you to see if you’re ready for tonight.”

  I groaned. “I still don’t know why I said yes,” I said truthfully.

  “Because you want to go on a date with him for real?” she asked, and I snorted. It was good to laugh, mostly because I didn’t know why I was doing it.

  “Do you want us to come over and have some girls’ time to h
elp you pick out what to wear and do your hair?” Paris asked. This time, I laughed in truth.

  “I’m really all right. I have done this before, you know.”

  “Yes, you’ve done this before. But this is a little different, isn’t it?” she asked.

  “I don’t want it to be too different,” I said honestly. “It’s been a while since I’ve been on a second date.”

  “If it helps, you can think of it as a second first date since the first one was out of the box,” she said.

  “Maybe. Or perhaps I’m just going to lose my mind. We’re going out to dinner, and we’re meeting there. Mostly because I don’t want him to know where I live,” I said quickly and then regretted it instantly.

  There was a pause, and I knew that Paris was trying to think of the best thing to say. “I don’t blame you. All women need to feel safe. And with what you’ve been through? You need to be extra careful. It’s understandable that you wouldn’t want people to know where you live, especially when you don’t know him. I have friends, someone who can run a background check on him if you want,” Paris said quickly. “I mean, we’ve already done the whole social media thing, but I’m sure there are other people we can ask.”

  I shook my head and then remembered that she couldn’t actually see me.

  “I don’t need you to run a background check.” I had already done that, but I didn’t tell her as much. After all, some people from my past had tried to help me with Thomas. They hadn’t failed, precisely, but nobody had won with the final outcome.

  “Anyway, all of us will come over and help you get ready if you want,” Paris said again.

  “I’m just going to finish grading, get through some of my other work for the day, and then I’ll get ready.”

  “Wow, that sounds so romantic for how you’re going to get ready for this big date,” Paris said, pure sarcasm in her tone.

  “Oh, shush. I have things to do, and I can’t focus my entire life on prepping for a date that’ll probably just end up a disaster.”

  I hadn’t meant to say that last part.

  “So, you’re going into it thinking it’ll be a pure disaster?” Paris asked.

  “No, I’m going into it without hope for the best. If I do that, I’ll be safer.”

  “That’s a telling statement,” Paris said dryly. “Just remember, we went into this whole pact of ours to try and branch out. Not to be alone anymore. If you go into your date thinking that it’s going to end badly, then you’re going to create a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

  “Or, maybe that’s just how life is.” I paused. “I’m not good at this, Paris. I shouldn’t have been the first one. Myra would’ve been better at this. Or even you.”

  Paris laughed. “I’m not going to take that as a jab with you adding the even. And maybe the others will be better than us at dating. But if that was the case thus far, we wouldn’t be here at all.”

  “I just don’t want to end up ruining things any more than they already are,” I said honestly.

  “But what do you mean by that?” Paris asked.

  I frowned. “I have no idea. I just know I wasn’t happy before. And Cross seems like a great guy. He was great because it was fun and unexpected. When I see him again, what if it’s anything but?”

  “You won’t know until you try,” Paris said.

  “You know, I’m going to be just as pushy as you are when you do this.”

  “Perhaps. But first, you have to get through your sets of dates.”

  “Wait, I think we mixed a big loophole in this whole dating pact thing,” I said suddenly, leaning forward. “When does the next person start?”

  “When we are all satisfied that you have fulfilled your promise.”

  “What does that mean? And don’t you dare say marriage. Because that’s ridiculous.”

  “You’re the one who brought it up. And we’re not exactly clear on all the rules,” Paris admitted.

  “Oh, great. What’s going to happen is, I’m going to be the only one who has to do any of this, and you guys are just going to go off with your perfect little lives and never have to deal with the embarrassment of sitting down with a guy who isn’t your actual date.”

  “No, we are all going to go on dates with random people that will probably turn out worse. After all, you met a wonderful man, at least as much as you know so far, and you’re going on a second date with him tonight. Enjoy yourself, and don’t worry. When the time is right, the next person will have their time.”

  “You’re the next person, Paris.” I paused. “In fact, I’m going to talk with Dakota and Myra. We need to start working on you.”

  “Let’s not rush things,” Paris said quickly, and I laughed.

  “See? You don’t like it when the shoe is on the other foot.”

  “I love all shoes, don’t worry. When my time comes, whenever that may be, I will give in.”

  I laughed for real this time, a deep belly laugh that I knew Paris was likely grimacing at, even if I couldn’t see her face.

  “Have fun tonight,” Paris said. “Seriously. Just remember that you’re allowed to have fun.”

  “I’ll try,” I said, and then we hung up, and I looked down at my grading. I knew I wasn’t going to finish today.

  No, I was going to get ready for my date and wonder exactly how this had happened.

  I went to my bedroom and opened my closet, wondering how I had gotten ready the first time. I hadn’t had this nervousness wrapping around me like it was now. Perhaps because whatever would have happened with Stavros would have been mere fantasy.

  A pact made between friends that didn’t seem quite real.

  I had gone through the motions, not knowing exactly how I should feel. I’d put on a sexy but not too revealing dress, did my hair and makeup like I’d been taught—an armor and a weapon in the hands of masters, as my mother had once said—and had gone to a swanky bar in Boulder—the swankiest. I had gone, knowing full well that I would never see that man again. Because he hadn’t been real.

  And because I’d never met him—still hadn’t—he wouldn’t ever be real to me. While I wished him the best of luck with his ex-wife and hoped his child had all the happiness in the world, he would never be real to me.

  And for someone who went through dreams in life like I had, who craved concrete math and proof, reality was what I needed to breathe, to live, to survive.

  Tonight wouldn’t be like before. It would be different.

  I knew Cross—at least as much as I could know a man I had accidentally gone on a date with.

  I had spoken to him, had touched him—in the most chaste of ways, of course—and I knew he was real.

  As I chose my outfit with care, making precise decisions since it was the only way I would be able to focus tonight, I wondered yet again how I had ended up here.

  When I found myself looking in the mirror, my eyes wide, my face pale with a touch of color on my cheeks, I knew I couldn’t back down now.

  Even as I did my best to ignore the memory of hot breath on my neck from a dream that wasn’t merely a dream, I knew I had to take these next steps.

  I didn’t want to be a person who hid in fear any longer.

  The only problem was, I didn’t know what kind of person I wanted—needed—to be.

  And the answer to that wasn’t something I could get from dreams or math or even dates with a man who made me smile.

  That would come from somewhere far different.

  From me.

  Chapter 8

  Cross

  * * *

  “I didn’t think I would need help getting ready for tonight,” I said as I opened the door to my entire family.

  Macon, Prior, Nate, Arden, and even Liam walked through, their hands thankfully empty, though all looked at me.

  “Seriously, what are you doing here?”

  “You’re going on a date,” Arden said, going up on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. I reached around and gave her a hug, nodding at the guys.<
br />
  “I know I’m going on a date. I still don’t know why you think I need your help, though. I’ve been dating for quite a while.”

  “Actually, it’s been a while from what I hear,” Liam said, running his tongue over his teeth.

  I flipped off my brother-in-law. Liam just winked, a grin on his face.

  “Be nice. That is the future father of my children right there,” Arden said.

  My eyes widened. I hadn’t heard my sister talk about children in a while. It was kind of nice.

  “Really? That’s what you’re going with?” I said, keeping my voice light. I knew Arden wasn’t going to be able to carry a child, something she had mentioned a few times since she had been diagnosed. It wasn’t just the lupus that had led to that conclusion, but a few other things, as well. We had all been very careful not to bother her with any questions about that, at least until she was ready.

  “That was my awkward way of saying that Liam and I are going to try adopting,” she said, clapping her hands in front of herself. She blushed, her eyes filling with tears as she leaned into her husband. I looked at my brothers, and then all of us grinned widely, opening our arms. A huge Brady brother and sister and Liam group hug commenced.

  “Really? You know I think that is fucking amazing news,” I said.

  “Seriously? I can’t wait to be an uncle,” Prior said, rubbing his hands together. “I mean, think about all the shit I could teach that kid.”

  “You are not letting my child become a troublemaker,” Arden said, and Liam just raised a brow.

  “Between my family and yours, I’m pretty sure the wide array of uncles and aunts involved is going to let that kid get away with anything they want. At least until they reach an age where they can’t get away with anything,” Liam said honestly, and I laughed.

  “That sounds about right. We’ll spoil your kid no matter what, but when they become a teenager, we will make sure they don’t get into trouble. I mean, that is the uncle and aunt way,” I said.

  “Anything you need from us, we’re here,” Macon said, and we all nodded solemnly.

 

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