Blackout (21 page)

“You are somebody,” I whisper. “Help me overturn the conviction.”

“I’ve fucked up so much. There’s no going back for me.”

I wonder how long his rap sheet is. “You don’t really know that.”

He rolls over. “Good night, Teal.”

“Goodnight,” I say, hurrying to my bedroom.

I brush my teeth, my mind on the man sleeping on the living room sofa. So much has changed for both of us.

When I return to Dare, he’s out cold, sprawled across the couch with the blanket snaked between his legs. With a deep breath, I trudge back to my room and climb into my cold bed.

At around two in the morning, I dream that I have to pee, which wakes me up. All the iced tea and water I drank at work presses on my bladder. An arm is slung around me, and I almost scream until I realize it’s Dare. He’s sleeping on top of the covers, still in his shorts. I pull a blanket over him.

Without turning on the lights, I stumble out of bed and wander to my en-suite bathroom.

After relieving myself and splashing water on my face, my feet shuffle back to bed. Why can’t I dream about Dare, I mean Graham? Whenever I don’t stress about blacking out or my stalker, Dare overloads my mind.

Just as I fall into bed, creaking on the hardwood floors startles me and freezes me to the mattress.

Call the cops, Teal.

The cell is on my nightstand. I reach over to dial, then a loud crash booms outside my room. Lulu? Every nerve fires and curls on a razor’s edge.

Dare jumps out of bed, switches on the light, like he lives here, and pulls a handgun from his duffle bag. He stalks to the bedroom door. “You stay here.”

“No way.” Swallowing down the fear clotting my throat, I creep after him. My fingers dig into the waistband of his shorts.

“Are you mining for something?”

I smack his shoulder blade, avoiding the taped ribs. He laughs.

Lulu’s room is on the opposite side one door away. Down the hall toward the great room, shadows dance in and out of the stars and moon shining through the Vancouver glass doors.

The hardwood creaks under our bare feet. I stifle a scream, the pain ripping through my big toe. “Ouch.”

Without moving from our spot, Dare turns on the lights. “Are you all right?” he asks.

Mama’s favorite vase is shattered on the floor, and the daisies that were in it lie limply on the floor. Several months before she left, she blew the glass to make the vase. It was a beautiful vibrant piece. A shard is embedded in my toe. Blood gushes from it.

“Let me check out the rest of the house,” he says.

“Check on Lulu first,” I say.

Dare quietly opens her door and looks around. He steps out to skulk down the hall.

I dig out the shard. I need to get the broken glass cleaned up before Lulu gets up, not that the noise woke her.

Dare puts his gun back into his bag. “A window was open in Lulu’s room. I checked all of them before going to bed. You may want to add motion detectors to your alarm system.”

I nod, trembling. He wraps an arm around me. “Let’s clean up your foot and call the police.”

Dare fetches a robe for me and tugs on a shirt.

He sets me on the kitchen counter to fix my toe. His warm hands rest on my hips just long enough to permanently mark me.

As he cleans the blood and bandages it, I ask, “Why were you sleeping in my bed?”

“I was cold.” He winks at me. “I heard some noises, so I checked on you. I wanted to be close in case he came in through your window.”

“You could’ve asked,” I say, though I feel safer with him next to me.

“You looked too peaceful there, sleeping in your little tank and shorts.”

“Pervert.”

“Guilty. What got broken?” he asks.

“One of Mama’s vases.”

“The daisies.” He looks at me as his strong arms lift me off the counter. “He’s sending you a message.”

I don’t want to cry, so my face pinches to hold back the tears. His thumb circles on my hip that he hasn’t let go of. I so want to touch him, but I refrain from doing so.

The doorbell rings, which means the cops have arrived. I hobble to the door to let Jimmy and Remy in.

“What’s going on here?” Jimmy asks, the twang reverberating in his voice. He glances between Dare and me.

“Someone broke into my house again and got past the alarm.” My nerves are raw and damaged. I shouldn’t have to worry all the time, and Lulu is alone some of the time while I’m at work, and this man is breaking into the house. “He smashed my mama’s vase. It was sitting on the dining room table.”

Which means he could’ve stalked around the house for a while before I woke up. Shudders ripple along my shoulders, raising the hair on the back of my neck. “I should clean the broken glass down the hall.”

“I’ll get it,” Dare says.

“Leave it,” Jimmy says. He has nose hairs he could braid they’re so long. “We have questions for you. Have you checked on your grandmother?” Jimmy asks me.

“Yes,” I say. “She’s fine.”

Jimmy gets up and walks to the accordion doors in the back. He checks them and one opens easily. “He must’ve gotten in through here. Did you lock this before you went to bed?”

“I didn’t, but Dare did.”

He frowns, taking out a pen to write notes. “He could’ve been the one who left it open.”

“I saw him try the door.” I think.

“Everything was locked up,” Dare says.

“I bet it was,” Jimmy says.

I need a gun, like Dare. That would stop the intruder. If he’s a convicted felon, how does he own one?

“We’re going to take the vase and have it tested for prints,” Jimmy says. “We’ll dust the door too, but you and your grandmother should provide us with your prints. We already have Dare’s.”

They clean up the glass and bag it, dust for prints, and leave.

After I close the door, I swivel around to face Dare. “Is that gun illegal?”

“No. I bought it.”

“Stores have to do a background check. How did you get one if you’re a registered sex offender?”

He shrugs. “Maybe they’re not as thorough as you think.”

“No.” I shake my head. “Your name must not be there. Your original record must be sealed.”

“That’s not what the lawyer or maybe it was the DA told me when I was eleven.” He yawns. “I have to get some sleep. Tomorrow’s my big day.”

Dare guides me to my bedroom. I slip into bed, and he crawls in beside me.

While I shiver bundled up in my covers, Dare holds me.

“I’m right here, Teal. I won’t let him get you.” He soon falls right back to sleep.

I feel slightly better, but I can’t sleep. The thought of someone prowling about the house while we sleep sets all my muscles twitching. I roll from one end of the bed to the other, bumping into Dare. What would I do if the prints were Dare’s? What if he left the door open on purpose? What if I’m wrong?

“If you ever have any problems,” Dare mumbles, when I butt into him, “don’t hesitate to call the police.”

I can’t help but notice that he doesn’t ask me to call him.

My alarm blares at 4:30 and doesn’t even disturb Dare. His body is entangled with mine, his morning erection jammed against my hip. I will my body not to respond, but it does anyway.

I drag myself out of bed to make coffee. While that is going, I gather Dare’s clothes, fold them, and put them on the bed.

I shake him then shake him harder. “Dare, you have to get up.”

“Jesus, Teal,” he says.

He jerks up, grinning. “Did we?”

“No.”

‘Sorry.” He waves me off. “I just…”

Was he dreaming about me, like I was dreaming about him? I hand him two aspirin and a glass of water. “Here. Coffee is on, and I’ll fix you a bagel.”

He takes the aspirin and downs them. “I certainly need all of the above. Thank you.”

Dare swings his legs to the floor, gets up, and stops by my dresser where photos of Mama are lined up. “Is this your mom?” He cocks his head.

“Yes.” Sometimes, I turn them face down. I don’t like her staring or judging me.

A touch of concern creases his forehead. “You wore this outfit to that beach party. Isn’t that the same night you started receiving the daisies?”

I hadn’t put that together. A shiver spikes the hairs on my arms. “Yes.”

“Your stalker may be trailing you because you look like your mother. Didn’t you say she loved daisies? According to Sam, she had many admirers.”

How would Sam know that? My hands tremble. Could someone have stalked her before me? “Lulu told me Mama loved daisies.” I don’t remember that, but she obviously wore the skirt covered with them.

He purses his lips. “My first thought was you’re being stalked because if your memories resurface, you’re a threat to whatever you witnessed.”

Without a shirt and the tape still lining his ribs, his powerful build exudes raw masculinity. “And I saw all that blood. I don’t like leaving you alone at night.”

His sincerity and protectiveness strengthen me.

“I need to hurry.” He goes to the bathroom where he strips without the least bit of modesty and steps into my shower—his bare ass beautiful to behold. The eyeful only shoots between my thighs like a missile.

Sometimes, I wish I were that uninhibited. The way he could satisfy Shannon without caring about anything else. If he’d been caught though, he would’ve been registered without a doubt as a sex offender.

I sit on the bed for a moment to collect my thoughts. If everyone thinks Mama is dead, then it’s twisted that someone would follow me because I remind him of her. I have to work harder on my memories. The recurring flashes of images, smells, and sounds need to be reassembled to make sense.

By the time Dare finishes showering, the coffee and bagel are ready. I hand them to him. A towel is wrapped around his waist while he brushes his teeth, his semi-arousal apparent. It’s hard not to think about him this way when the sight of him scalds my body and erases all coherent thought.

“Thank you. You’re spoiling me, Teal.” A smile sweeps across his handsome face all the way into his hazel eyes.

I haven’t kissed him yet. Will it really tell me what I need to know about him? I sigh. Probably not. I walk out of the room to let him dress and avoid any more temptation.

A few minutes later, he emerges fully dressed with his duffle bag. “I’ll see you later, Teal.” He opens his mouth as if to say something more but then closes it.

“Good luck,” I say, walking him to the front door.

“I’m going to need it.” He hops off the porch and saunters over to his truck, carrying the mug. “I’ll get this back to you.” And then he’s gone.

I yawn, walk back inside, and fall back into bed where Dare spikes my dreams, like a shot of whiskey.

A few hours later, I wake and rub the heels of my palms into my eyes before stretching and yawning. The scent of a very drunk Dare pervades my sheets. How do I stop thinking about him when he’s always around, and now I can smell his scent on my bed?

It’s not too late, so I crawl out of bed to fix breakfast for Lulu before heading to the races. In my boy shorts and tank, I stumble out to the kitchen where several people yell surprise. Lulu is at the center of balloons, crepe paper strung across the great room, a fresh berry tart, and apparently her newfound friends from the senior center.

“Grandmother,” I screech, her face pinching from being called old.

With my cheeks on fire, I cover myself and run back to my room. After several deep breaths and a dizzy spell that tries to pull me under, I tug on shorts, a bra, and a top then pull a brush through my hair. I’m mortified to reappear, but she went to a lot of trouble, and she knows I have a full day.

I drag myself back out to the great room and paste a big smile on my face. “Hi, sorry. I wasn’t expecting a party this morning. Thank you.”

“I got the healthiest thing I could find at the store,” Lulu says, flapping a hand at the tart large enough to feed an army. “My friend Sheri drove me, so don’t worry.” She smiles at a vibrant lady with silver coiffed hair.

Lulu introduces me to her six friends, two elderly guys, one who appears sweet on her by the way he keeps patting her behind, and four women grinning for my big day.

Presents are piled onto the kitchen table. “You shouldn’t have,” I say, eyeing one postal box from Paris—Daddy didn’t forget. I smile. I miss him.

“It’s not every day we get to celebrate an eighteenth birthday,” Sheri says.

“Oh, we try to celebrate every day,” Jarod says, the guy patting Lulu. He pops open a champagne bottle and pours everyone a glass, including me.

“Mimosas,” Sheri calls, hurrying to the fridge for OJ.

“Who’s the designated driver?” an elderly lady asks.

Lulu laughs. “I can drive.”

“No, no,” everyone says over one another.

I open the gifts. They’re an odd assortment of crafts, such as painted ceramics to flower arrangements, most likely created at the center. Daddy bought me all the latest fashions in Paris from designer shoes to skirts and tops that his secretary must’ve picked out. The last is his card that I open. A check is enclosed for over a hundred thousand. I collapse into a chair to read his note.

Please call me on your birthday. I realize you probably have big plans, and I don’t want to spoil them. You already have money for college set aside, but this is for law school. I couldn’t be more proud of you. Love Daddy.

I can’t believe he did this.

What if he found out about Dare? Would Daddy take away the money if I dated him? Would he disown me? I’d like to think not, but I know how much Daddy distrusts Dare. Could I convince Daddy otherwise? Could I give up my dreams for someone like Dare? Graham is so much safer.

I end with Lulu’s presents. The first one I open is a new phone cover with plastic jewels glued onto it that she must’ve made. I immediately put my phone into the case. “I love it.” I kiss Lulu on the cheek.

“This is from your mother.” Lulu hands me a long jewelry box.

My breath catches in my throat, and for a moment my head spins, so I close my eyes to listen to the calming waves and the sea breeze floating in through the open windows.

“She’s alive,” I say.