Chrysalis, p.10
Chrysalis, page 10
I let out a pent-up sigh. I wasn’t sure when I’d stop hoping that something would trigger my recollection. It was like hoping for magic. I just wanted to see something, hear something, encounter someone who could bring back my memory just as easy as flicking on a light switch. But I knew that was fanciful nonsense. If proximity to Gray didn’t bring back my memory, nothing would. There was nothing more familiar. No one was more important.
I felt someone behind me, and I stepped to the side, so I’d stop blocking the entire map. “Sorry,” I mumbled distractedly, still deep in thought.
“You should be.”
The voice made me freeze temporarily. And then my shoulders slumped. I turned around slowly, only to find myself facing Gray. A very angry Gray. His cheeks and the tip of his nose were pink from the cold, his hair tangled and windblown. His brown eyes snapped fire. He was so goddamned gorgeous he took my breath away.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi?” He looked at me disbelievingly. “That’s all you have to say to me? I can’t believe you’re just walking away. Again.”
“It’s for the best.”
“Best for whom?”
“Best for you,” I snapped. “I’m not out wandering around in the cold for my health.”
“Frankly, I’m not sure what the fuck you’re doing. Or who you’re doing it for. You obviously wouldn’t know what’s good for you if it slapped you in the face.” He looked very close to doing exactly that.
“I’m trying to do the right thing here,” I said warily. “You and Devin have a good thing going on, and I’m not going to ruin that.”
“You let me worry about Devin.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It’s exactly that simple.”
His nostrils flared as he let out a harsh breath. He turned away from me for a moment, and I could see him struggling to regain control. When he faced me again, I could see he hadn’t done a good job—his emotions were still riding close to the surface. He approached me with intent, his expression so severe that I was tempted to take a step back. When he was only a breath away, he secured his hand around my neck. As his grip tightened, I briefly wondered if I’d goaded him into strangling me, right here in the bus station. I remained still, my gaze locked on his.
After a moment, his grip loosened, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he brought my face closer, close enough that I could see the gold flecks in his eyes. “You can’t just disappear,” he said quietly. I rested my forehead against his and closed my eyes. His breath fanned lightly across my cheeks. “God knows I’ve tried to keep my distance from you. But I’m not okay if I don’t know you’re okay. It’s as simple as that.”
I was overwhelmed…by his words, his scent, his lips so close to mine. I would truly have no objection if he fucked me right here in the goddamned bus station. “Gray,” I croaked.
“Come home with me.”
It wasn’t a question. “You know this ends badly for both of us, don’t you?”
He squeezed my neck one last time before he dropped his hand and stepped back. Then another step, as if he realized we needed the space. His brown eyes were somber as he surveyed my face. He finally gave me a short nod. “I do.”
He turned and headed toward the street, where I could see his car idling at the curb. That trusting motherfucker hadn’t even turned the damn thing off. In this part of town, he was lucky not to be coming back to a shell on bricks. I waited for a beat before I cursed and shouldered my backpack. I didn’t know who I was trying to fool by my hesitation. I’d always been willing to follow him anywhere.
Some things never changed.
10
It was all too easy to fall into a routine. I wasn’t sure if I was avoiding reality or just getting comfortable, but Gray was guilty, too. In the mornings, I got up early so that I could see him before he left for work. Usually, I made my way to the four seasons room and curled up in a chair with a cozy throw, a cup of coffee in my hands. Gray never took long getting dressed, and he always came to see me before he left. His goodbye was always accompanied by a grilling worthy of a filet mignon.
How are you feeling? That was always at the top of his list. That was quickly followed up with, Did you sleep well? Do you need anything? And finally, What are you going to be doing today? My answers usually involved some variation of great, yup, no, and not much. It wasn’t a lie. I’d died on that operating table, and apparently, I was reborn as Gray’s housecat.
I rested, read books, and watched TV. Lately, I’d added a little cardio to the mix. I stumbled across Gray’s exercise room earlier that week and started exercising daily to help build up my strength. I started with a slow-as-molasses walk for the first few days and then kicked up the pace to a slow jog. Then a fast jog. The energy thrumming through my body like a live wire made me kick up the pace to a run.
My body started responding to the extra activity almost immediately. I felt stronger. Faster. Productive. Less like a big tabby sunning myself in Gray’s living room. All that activity was an excellent distractor from the fact that my life was in shambles around my feet.
Strangely enough, Gray didn’t seem to be all that concerned with me doing anything productive to get my life together, either. He mainly wanted to know that I was resting and that I was eating—not junk but real food. He also liked to fret that I was “pushing myself too hard.” If pushing myself too hard included puttering around his house in sweats and drinking cocoa, then yes, I was stressed out.
Like I’d conjured him up with the power of my thoughts, he came into the room, boots in hand. His hair was pulled back in its usual bun, and he was wearing scrubs. He sat in the chair across from me and started putting on his boots. “I’m headed out,” he said unnecessarily.
“I think I’m a long-distance runner,” I announced. “That’s probably my big secret.”
“Why on earth would you keep that secret?”
Hmm. Good question. I tapped my finger on my lips as I thought and then snapped my fingers. “I was probably training for the Olympics, and someone tried to Nancy Kerrigan me.”
His lips twitched. “That would certainly explain your reflexes, but it still seems a bit… farfetched.”
“I don’t see you coming up with any viable ideas.”
He laughed. “Fine. Go USA. As long as you don’t try that chef thing again, I can get onboard. Because that was a hell no. And while we’re on the topic, don’t touch my plumbing again. You’re not a handyman, either.”
I huffed. It didn’t seem like an appropriate time to remind him that while I might not have been a plumber, I damn sure knew how to handle pipe. As he tugged on his other boot, he eyed me suspiciously as if he could read my mind. He probably could. Dirty jokes came to my mind way too easily—I had a feeling I’d told them a time or ten.
“So what’s on the agenda for today?” he asked. “Hopefully something outside of my kitchen.”
“I’m going for a run, Ungrateful. And then I’m going out.”
He hesitated. “Out out?”
“I’m not sure what that means.”
I did, actually. I was just feeling prickly about Gray trying to tell me what to do. His hesitant look let me know that he knew that, too.
“I’m allowed to leave the house,” I said. “We went to the mall, remember?”
“Yes, but you weren’t alone and vulnerable then.”
I was aghast. “Vulnerable?”
He went on as if I hadn’t spoken. “I was with you, and we were around people the entire time.”
“Well, I’m not planning to go hang out in a back alley,” I said exasperatedly.
“Well, what about Andy?”
“What about Andy?”
“You said you didn’t get a good vibe from him.”
“I didn’t.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t be out and about where he can find you.” He held up his hands when I shot him a look. “Just a suggestion.”
He wasn’t wrong. “I’ll be careful,” I finally said. “I’m just getting cabin fever. I may stop by the store. We’re out of milk and cereal.”
“That’s because you think Frosted Flakes are a major food group.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. I scowled even as he took out some cash and handed it to me. Or tried to. I made no move to take the outstretched money. “I can buy cereal, Gray.”
“With what, good looks?” he asked absently, tossing the bills on my lap.
I gathered them begrudgingly, trying not to feel like I’d just finished a dance onstage. I needed to start looking for a job. Maybe something I could list on a tax form this time. After he left, I went for a walk in the crisp air. I loved proving Gray wrong. I could and would do as I damn well pleased.
I couldn’t hold on to my irritation long. The leaves were turning and falling, drifting to the sidewalk in reds and browns and the occasional gold. The sun dappled the sidewalk through the trees in interesting patterns, creating patches of warmth. I was glad I’d ignored Gray the Doomsayer and chuckled at the idea that someone would be after me… for a few blocks, that is.
I couldn’t say what changed. I just felt an overall sense of unease. Like I was being watched. Followed. It was almost like that shiver that happened when someone touched a stray hair on the back of your neck. And as I’d told Gray before, I was a man who followed his instincts.
I quickened my step.
I cut through the next side street and paused behind some recycling bins, pretending to tie my shoe. I watched the street, feeling like an absolute idiot. It could just be Detective Myers, running a proverbial tin cup across my bars. Or Andy, wondering where the hell I’d taken off to and why. My instincts could also be way off, and no one was following me at all.
After a few minutes, a beige Buick LeSabre passed by. The windows were lightly tinted, so I could only see the silhouette of a woman behind the wheel. She didn’t look my way, and the car didn’t slow. I didn’t move for several minutes after, my gaze trained on the end of the alley. Just when I thought I might be going crazy, I saw the beige car pass by again. I gave up the pretense of tying my shoe and moved further in the shadows of the bins. I stayed there for a good ten minutes, but the Buick never returned.
I never made it to the store. I was too rattled to bother, so I just decided to go back to Gray’s. I was irritated with myself the entire walk, the beauty of the trees I’d admired on the way completely lost. I wasn’t even sure the woman had been looking for me. Passing by on the same street twice wasn’t a crime. She could’ve been lost and looking for an address. Gray had gotten to me, and his unease had worked its way under my skin. Now I was seeing ghosts where none existed.
I still took a different route home, sticking to the backroads as much as possible. I didn’t see the beige car again, and I let out a derisive snort as I headed up Gray’s driveway. As far as my first outing alone went, today was pretty much a bust.
I spent the rest of the day puttering around the house. After exercising for a couple of hours, I took a shower and dressed in a pair of sweats. I found myself in my old office again, digging around in Gray’s closet of books. I spotted a paperback that looked interesting in the back and tugged, but it wouldn’t come off the shelf.
Hmph. Of course, the smart thing to do would’ve been to just leave it. But I was a stubborn man. I got better leverage on the spine and pulled again, and I heard a soft snick. The bookcase started sliding. I took a few hasty steps back instinctively, bumping into the closet door. I gripped the frame, watching openmouthed as the bookcase continued to slide.
Why would Gray need a secret room? Just what the hell was he up to?
The door bumped into a box of books in its way and kept bumping into it as the motor pushed it forward. Startled into action, I pushed the box out of the way with my foot. The bookcase door continued its track and finally slid to a soundless stop. I stared into the dark, yawning opening. A normal person would probably push that fake book right back into place and forget that secret door ever existed.
I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this, but I’m not a normal person.
It was as though invisible hands pushed me across the threshold as I stepped into the darkness. I ran my hand along the wall, feeling around in the normal places for a light switch. My efforts were quickly rewarded, and I flicked the switch upward. Light flooded the space. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust, and once they had, I was flabbergasted anew.
I was almost tempted to flick that light right back off.
Guns. Lots and lots of guns. I couldn’t even name the different types. They were mounted on racks on both sides of the room in well-lit displays. I struggled to calm my racing pulse as I stepped further into the room. So either I’d stumbled upon a mancave designed by one Jean-Claude Van Damme, or Gray was some sort of black-market arms dealer. Maybe this room was somehow tied to the trouble I’d gotten in. A competitor of his could’ve tried to take me out. Maybe he’d screwed someone over, and my shooting was revenge. Except…none of that seemed like Gray at all.
I ran a finger down a set of mounted nunchucks, gleaming under the fluorescent light. I couldn’t see him using those on anyone. Those deft, clever fingers were doctor’s hands…healing hands. And he’d patched up and lost enough gunshot victims in the ER that he wasn’t a big fan of guns. It was a stretch to imagine him putting weapons like these out on the streets.
When I was finally able to look away from the impressive display of artillery, I took stock of the rest of the room. It was about the size of two walk-in closets and had a desk with a computer and two screens against the wall. I tried to boot it up, but of course, I didn’t know the password. I tried the password Gray had given me for the computer in the den, but surprise, surprise, grayisawesome didn’t work.
There was a wall safe mounted near the door, and I peered at the biometric panel on the front. I wasn’t sure what possessed me, but I pressed my finger over the fingerprint scanner. It turned green and gave a soft beep. Well, there you go.
The surprises continued with the safe contents. Feeling a little numb, I took out the items and laid them on the desk carefully. A passport. Five airline tickets. A keyring with the symbol of a butterfly and two keys attached. A couple of rolls of cash. I eyed one of the rolls from the side. They had to be at least ten thousand each. There was also a phone and a charger, which I tucked in my pocket.
I sat on the stool next to the desk, trying to process. I felt a little like Alice in Wonderland…if Alice had disappeared down the hole and came back out with an Uzi. I was pretty sure Gray didn’t know anything about my secret life or this room. He’d gotten rid of every trace of me in the other parts of the house, almost like he was trying to scrub away my very existence. I sincerely doubted he would hold on to a secret room full of dangerous weapons for his possibly certifiable ex.
So who was I really? And how had that made me into a target?
I rubbed my fingers over the metallic butterfly keychain as something teased the fringes of my mind…a memory. My mother walking in front of me, turning back to look at me with a smile on her face. By society’s standards, she was pretty but plain—to me, she was the most beautiful woman in the world. And when she smiled…there was no looking away from that smile.
Sunlight haloed her long hair as she laughed at something someone else said. I couldn’t hear her words, but I lasered in on that smile. She beckoned me as she turned and ran through a field of flowers. I stumbled forward helplessly.
When I looked up at her again, she wasn’t smiling. The sun had disappeared and left the sky dark and overcast, as if the rain was just a whisper away. She was in a nightgown, and when I looked down, I realized I was in my pajamas, too. Run, baby, she urged me. Run and be quiet as you can. It’s important. A bullet hole appeared in her forehead, right between her eyes, and I shrank back. Run and hide, baby.
The sound of a truck outside startled me, and I stood up so fast that I hit my head on a low-hanging shelf. I winced, rubbing the back of my head. Great. Because another head injury was exactly what I needed in my life. I put everything back where I’d found it, my mind running a million miles a minute, my mother’s words fresh in my mind.
Run and hide, baby. Run and hide.
I didn’t know why she’d said that, but I was tired of doing both.
A pile-up on the highway including a city bus turned Gray’s workday hectic. Luckily, it was a no-fatality accident with minimal injuries, a situation that Gray informed me was all too rare. As he kicked off his boots at the door, he wearily told me that he’d also caught the traffic from the accident cleanup on the way home. He disappeared upstairs not long after he arrived, and I heard the shower come on a few moments later.
I decided to make something nice for dinner. A lasagna, I decided, peering into the refrigerator. Lasagna was a perfectly nice way to say sorry I’m a secret arms dealer who built an illegal lair in your closet. Hmm. I perused the freezer. Breadsticks. That apology probably needed breadsticks, too.
Despite Gray’s heckling, my cooking was getting better. I could now make three easy dishes—spaghetti, scrambled eggs, and grilled cheese. I looked at my little army of ingredients confidently. I was about to add another dish to that list. I got busy, and before long, I had a pretty good-looking lasagna assembled and in the oven. I put the breadsticks on a sheet tray to hang out, and then I set the table like I was the hostess with the mostest.
That was right about the time I heard Gray coming downstairs. His voice reached me before he did as he called out, “Something smells good in here.”
When he appeared in the doorway a few seconds later, I did my best not to stare. Gray mostly had two modes of dress—scrubs for work and some version of sweats and a t-shirt at home. That made it easy to forget how he looked when he cleaned up. His body did certain things to those dark jeans and an olive-colored button-down. Wonderful things. His hair was up in its usual bun but neatly tamed with product.
