Shadows of the Past (23 page)

I don't tell him about everything that happened earlier. I don’t tell him that Emily hates me. I don’t tell him about my mom. He doesn't need to know about James and his creepy advances or me losing my job because of it.
 

"Okay? That's all you have to say? Bloody hell, Kayla! I don't know how else to tell you I love you. Only you, no one else but you." Even his sigh sounds angry. "Look, it's late. We should probably both go to bed. I'll talk to you later, all right?"

I nod my head, even though he can't see it before whispering, "All right."
 

Before I can tell him I'm sorry, he disconnects, and I'm left holding the phone up to my ear, wishing I had handled things differently. I'm a fool.

CHAPTER 40

I don't know why I'm torturing myself by walking through Kensington Gardens. A week after cutting Oliver out of my life, and I'm walking through the place we spent the majority of our time together. Everywhere I look I see a memory. Barkley knocking me over, Oliver's smile as he helped me up. The embarrassment I felt the day I realized who he was has dulled, leaving only an ache when I think about what could have been.

The grassy area a few yards away is where we played fetch with the dog. It's the same spot Barkley decided he wanted to be a lapdog and climbed onto me as I sat cross-legged against a tree, listening to Oliver talk. I can't even remember what he said that afternoon. I can only remember the smile on his face when Barkley dropped onto my legs, pushing all the breath from my body with his hundred pounds of muscle and fur.
 

Is it stupid that I even miss his dog? I miss all of Oliver, his smile, his charm, even the way he teased me.

Almost without thinking, I walk until I'm standing in front of the tree we always sat under, a feeling of melancholy settling over me. I sit down, my back against the tree, and shut my eyes to relive happier times.
 

I block out all the people talking, children laughing, and dogs barking until it's just me with silence to keep me company. I concentrate on all the things I love about him and, not for the first time I wish I'd chosen differently, given him a chance to explain things to me. If he were here right now, I'd tell him I was sorry and ask for another chance.

Feeling eyes on me, I stiffen, thinking Oliver is here to grant my wish. But, when I open my eyes, instead of Oliver standing at the edge of the grass, I see James.
 

My blood freezes in my veins, and I stand slowly, not taking my eyes off of him. I don't trust the way he's looking at me, eyes narrow and just a little wild. Being alone with him is the last thing I want to happen.

"Well, if it isn't my little dove," he sneers, stepping onto the grass as I start to back up, not watching where I'm going.

I look around, hoping someone will see us and sense my distress, but no one pays us any attention. Right now, he's just a guy in a well-tailored suit, and I'm just a girl in yoga pants and a hoodie. Between the two of us, I'm the one who looks questionable. If I were seeing the two of us, I'd be more concerned about his welfare, thinking the ragamuffin was going to rob him or stab him in the throat.
 

"Don't come near me," I finally say.

Now that he senses I'm scared, his lips tip up in a feral smile, and he stalks toward me more confidently.
 

"Ah, dove, don't be that way. I just want to talk."

"Bullshit," I snarl. "You don't ever just want to talk." I'm watching him so intently I see the satisfied gleam enter his eyes before I trip over a root, and land so hard on my ass that it reverberates up my spine.
 

James laughs at the sound of my pain, before grabbing my hand and hauling me up against him. Before I can blink, he traps my arms behind my back in one of his hands and cups my cheek with the other. He's gripping my face so tightly it hurts, and I can smell just a little alcohol on his breath when he leans in close.
 

"You're a stupid little bitch." The venom in his words makes me flinch, but he doesn't let up. James shakes his head, eyes bright; he's enjoying both the proximity and the pain he's causing. "Did you really think you could tell me no and get away with it?" He laughs mirthlessly. "No one turns me down. Especially not some little whore who knows she can't do any better. You might have Oliver fooled into thinking you're more than a quick shag, but I know better."

His hand slides around to cup the back of my neck, making it so I'm unable to turn away from him. I know what's about to happen, but between him holding my hands and the back of my head, I can't get loose.
 

James smashes his mouth to mine, hard enough to make me gasp, which is just enough for him to slide his tongue into my mouth. I'm frozen in place, unable to find an escape when suddenly he jerks away from me.
 

I'm free.
 

He shouts in pain and I shake my head, trying to clear the horror of having him touch me from my mind. When I look down, I see him trying to unclamp Barkley's teeth from his ass. I can't help but grin with satisfaction at the stricken look of pain on his face, but before I get the chance to do anything, James kicks his leg back, hitting Barkley in the mouth.
 

Barkley lets go, backs up and whimpers, leaving James free to stalk toward me again, only to be derailed by a fist in his face.

Oliver stands just to James's side, his hair wild and his eyes angry. “Get away from her!” Before I can blink, he punches James in the face. His former friend drops like a rock.
 

Oliver stares at me. “Are you all right?”

I manage to nod.

Oliver waits a second before he bends to check on Barkley.
 

"Good job, boy," he murmurs, stroking the dog's head.
 

The events of the last few minutes catch up to me as I watch wordlessly, growing confused. I don't realize my legs have given out until I'm sitting on the ground, tears running unchecked down my cheeks.
 

Oliver rushes over to me, gingerly wrapping his arms around me. "Shhh, American Girl," he whispers, rocking me gently.
 

My quiet tears turn to noisy sobs at the endearment I never thought I'd hear again. We sit in the grass, him comforting me silently, while I cry all over his sweater. It's the same one he wore when he took me to the castle.

Once I've calmed, he helps me stand, calls for Barkley, and leads us over to the path, where he hands me the dog and his leash. With us safely removed, I see his jaw harden, and he turns to walk back where James is resting on an elbow, watching us warily. He crouches down, grabbing James by his collar and saying something to him in a voice so low I can't make out the words, only the menace behind them.
 

James glances at me for only a second before Oliver jerks him hard, forcing him to look back in his eyes. Whatever he says terrifies James because his eyes widen, and he nods in agreement to whatever Oliver is saying.
 

Shoving him back, Oliver stands and brushes his hands off, as if James were dirty, before walking back over to me. We walk away, toward the gates, but I can't help looking back to see James, still sitting on the ground, looking everywhere but at us.

We don't speak as Oliver helps me into his car, nor do we talk on the short ride to my flat. The longer we go without talking, the higher the tension in the car rises until the sight of my building draws a sigh of relief out of me. Oliver helps me out of the car, and in no time at all we're standing in front of my door.
 

I expect him to leave when I open the door, but he doesn't. Oliver pushes the door the rest of the way open, gesturing for me to walk in first. He follows behind me, shutting the door loud enough to make me jump before putting a hand on my back and practically pushing me into the living room.

Emily is sitting on the couch watching TV with her girlfriend, Lily. They both turn when they hear two sets of footsteps. Emily's eyes go wide seeing Oliver beside me, but when she notices how disheveled I am with bits of grass and leaves in my wild-looking hair, she covers her mouth with both hands and gasps.
 

We haven't talked much since our fight last week. I didn’t know how to fix it and Emily was so mad at me. It was easier just to avoid her.

"Kayla, what happened?" There's so much emotion in her voice now when she asks the question and her eyes fill with tears. “Oh, God, are you all right?”

"She's fine," Oliver reassures her.
 

He walks me over to sit on the smaller couch before sitting down beside me. He looks over at me, his eyes silently asking if he can tell her. My nod is almost imperceptible, but he sees it. Taking a deep breath, he looks up to meet her frightened eyes.
 

"James accosted her in the Gardens." Emily reaches forward to take my hands in hers, and her expressive blue eyes fill with tears.
 

"Oh, Kayla, I'm so sorry. Did he..." she trails off, but her thoughts are obvious.
 

I shake my head, unable to speak past the sudden lump in my throat. I hadn't realized just how much I missed her until right now.

Oliver, Emily, and Lily talk, thankfully not forcing me to answer any questions, with Oliver explaining what happened. All I can think is how lucky I was that he was there. I don't even want to think what might have happened if he hadn't been.
 

Lost in my thoughts, I don't realize how much time passes until Oliver stands to leave. He hugs me tightly before letting Emily show him the door. I watch him hand Emily what looks like a business card as he opens the door, and I can hear his low words.
 

"Don't hesitate to call if you need anything." She nods, kissing him on the cheek before shutting the door behind him and returning to sit next to me.

"Oh, Kayla," she whispers, wrapping her arms around me and squeezing. "I'm so sorry about everything." She begins to cry as Lily watches us from the other couch, her own eyes red with unshed tears. "I know there are still things you aren't telling me, but I don't want to fight with you anymore."
 

The next words come out garbled because she's starting to cry harder. "If something had happened to you..."

I return her hug, but I can't stop thinking about everything that's happened lately. It's like some invisible force is trying to make me leave, pushing me back toward home. I can't face what happened there; all the ghosts that haunt me live in New York.

CHAPTER 41

"Hello?"

A male voice speaks. "Hello, is this Kayla O’Mally?" Not just a male voice, an American male voice. I almost drop the phone, but if I hang up, he'll just keep calling, and Emily will be back soon.

"Who is this?" I can hear the tremor in my voice, but I pray he can't.

His throat clears, and then his voice is back in my ear.
 

"My name is Eric. Your mother hired me to find you." Eric's voice is dry, like finding people who've gone missing or run away is something he often does.

"Hired you?" I want to slap my hand over my mouth after I ask the question.

"I'm a private detective."

I start to panic. "How did you get this number?" It's not like I'm listed in the phone book as living with Emily. Calling my cell was bad enough.

"That's not important." Hell it's not! I need to know what he did so I can make sure it doesn't happen in the future. I've been careful. I don't have a bank account or credit cards; I don't even get mail here. My phone bill doesn't get delivered here either; instead it gets emailed to me. I used a fake address and don't ever pay the bill from the same postbox.

I'm so tired of fighting with myself, with Emily, with Oliver. In the two weeks since the confrontation with James, Oliver's upped his game, showing up at the flat every day, insisting I talk to him. Every day I refuse.
 

Emily says I'm a coward, and she's right. I am. I've been running for so long I don't know how to stop. I've been living in limbo, never moving forward, never able to move on because I've never dealt with any of it.
 

I left before the twins' funeral, and I've been avoiding my mom and my sister ever since. Leaving isn't what I want to do; I don't want to leave Emily, and honestly, I don't want to leave Oliver either.
 

"I'm sorry; I need to go." I hang up before he can protest and run for my room.

Grabbing my duffle bag, I begin throwing things into it. Clothes, shoes, anything I can grab. I need to get out of here fast. If that detective is close enough to find a landline number, he'll be here in person soon. I can’t do that.
 

It will just convince Emily and Oliver that I shouldn't be trusted, and I don't want to see that look on Emily's face ever again.

"What are you doing?" It's like thinking about her conjured her out of thin air. Emily is standing in my doorway, her eyes narrowed as she takes in the mess that is now my room. "Are you leaving?" She sounds shocked.

Unable to look at her, I answer, "I have to."

"I can't believe you're just going to leave. You're not even going to tell him goodbye?" Emily is pissed.
 

She doesn't understand, but how could she? She's never had to go through anything close to what I have.

"We already said our goodbyes, Em. Oliver and I were friends, and then we were more for a few days. He'll move on when I'm not here anymore. He deserves more than I can give him." It sucks, but it's the truth. It's taken me a long time to get to this point, to understand that love isn't always enough.

"That's such bullshit. You're scared, and you're running again, Kayla." Emily is standing in the doorway, her hands on her hips, like she is going to keep me from leaving by force of will alone.
 

I'm doing this, no matter how much she hates it. It's not her decision, and it's not Oliver's either.
 

She takes her phone out of her pocket. "I'm telling him you're running."