Pieces For You (34 page)

“I’m sorry,” I said, deciding to tackle the elephant before he decided to join us for coffee.

“Me too.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Lo.”

“I do.  I know my reaction that night hurt you.  I never wanted to hurt you…not for anything.  We stumbled onto the mother lode of landmines.  I couldn’t control my response—it was purely reflex.  What I’m sorry for, what I did have control over, was how long it took me to sort it all out in my head.  I’m sorry for how long it took me to come to you.”

“What did you figure out?”

“That violence was the trigger.  Obvious, I know.  I had to untangle all of the emotions before I could see that it was the aggression and brutality I was afraid of, the reminder of Hh…Heath.  I would have reacted the same if anyone had been in your place.”

“So you aren’t afraid of me now?”

“No.  I realized if the tables were turned, I would have done the same…worse.  I don’t know if I would have stopped if it had been you screaming.  You stopped when you heard me, when you knew you were hurting me.”

I nodded.  Sam was the only thing that could have pulled me out of my murderous rage.

“I’m not sorry I hurt him,” I confessed, not wanting to scare her but needing to be honest.  “I could lie to you, but I won’t.  If given the opportunity I would do it again, but not there, not in front of you.  I’m sorry I made you see it—made you relive the past.”

“I can accept that.  What else are you sorry for?”

I looked at her, puzzled.  What else was there?  I hadn’t given myself the chance to screw things up any further.  I shrugged my shoulders.

She shook her head as if disappointed.

“You’re not sorry for pulling a Houdini?  For completely removing yourself from my life?  You freakin’ ran away from me in Restaurant Depot!”

She was pissed.  I had to explain, make her understand I was protecting her.

“It wasn’t like that.  I was protecting you.  I—”

“Protecting me?  Of all the stupid, stereotypical, jackass male explanations…seriously?”

“Lo, you were terrified of me that night.  I thought forcing myself on you would make it worse.”

“I’m not saying you should have come knocking on my window in the middle of the damn night, but nothing…not even a damn text.  I was afraid you were done with me—that you didn’t care.”

I closed the distance between us and gathered her in my arms.

“No baby, never that.  I wanted to see you every second.  I was giving you the choice…and maybe punishing myself, too.”

She tilted her head back and gazed into my eyes.  “Why?”

“I hurt you.  I let you down…again.”

“Griff—”

I placed my finger over her lips to silence the protest I knew was coming.

“You don’t have to agree or understand, but I hold myself responsible for not protecting you then.  My mind knows it’s illogical,” I shrugged, “it’s how I feel.  I promised you and myself I would never let anything hurt you again.  I failed, and the worst punishment I could imagine was losing you.”

“You idiot.  Did it occur to you that you were punishing me, too?  That losing you would destroy me?  I need you.”

“You just called me an idiot and told me you need me in the same breath,” I laughed.  God, she was amazing.

“Both are true.” 

She took my hand and guided me to the couch, pushing my chest until I was seated before crawling into my lap.  “I was broken by what happened to me.  I spent months digging through the rubble that was Old Sam to find pieces of myself to puzzle back together.”

I nodded my understanding and stroked her back, encouraging her to continue.

“When you showed up, I didn’t recognize you for what you were.  I didn’t know you were a piece of me that had always been missing.”

I understood exactly what she meant because I felt the same.  I just realized it much earlier.

“But it’s more than that.  You’re not just a piece of me—you’re the glue that holds it all together.  You were made for me…or I was made for you.  Either way, it doesn’t matter.  All the broken shards of me, every jagged edge is yours.  I’ve put them back as best I can, and hopefully I’ll continue to discover new and old pieces, but without you there is nothing there to hold it all together.”

Every word out of her beautiful, kissable mouth was an answer to my prayers.  I kissed her lips gently, not wanting to push her but needing to touch her in some way.

“You’re wrong, you know?” I said, barely above a whisper.  “It’s not just a piece of me that fits you.  We are both pieces, neither complete without the other.  And I’m not the glue …we are like epoxy—both components necessary for adhesion.  Together our bond is strong, flexible, waterproof, and resistant to heat, cold, and external exposure.”

“I think you’re right, even though I have no freakin’ clue what epoxy is,” I laughed at his utterly
“man”
metaphor.  “Do you mind if your pieces are in better condition than mine?”

“I’m not flawless, Lo.  I have my own jagged edges.”

“I like your sharp edges,” she said while dragging her fingers across my abs.  I had never loved sit-ups more than at that moment.

We spent the next several hours catching up on the last few weeks, cuddling, and kissing.  I didn’t push for more; I didn’t need it.  Having Sam back in my arms, feeling her body against mine, and knowing she was mine again were more than I had dared to hope for. 

We fell asleep on the couch wrapped around each other, parts entwined like the pieces of the whole we were.

"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage."  -Lao Tzu

I was warm—very warm—in the best possible way.  I fisted my hand in the fabric beneath my palm, feeling the soft cotton of a t-shirt bunch against my hand.  I inhaled deeply and let his drugging scent seep into my body, reassuring me that last night was not a dream.

On the couch in my family room, enveloped in Griffin’s arms, I awoke after my best night’s sleep in three weeks.  I couldn’t believe he was here…back in my life…
mine
.  I rubbed my head against his chest like a cat soliciting attention and marking her territory.  I couldn’t get close enough.  I wished humans had a pouch like kangaroos…I would happily climb in and let Griff tote me around everywhere.

His chest rumbled with laughter, startling me.

“I didn’t,” I said, hoping against all odds his laughter was due to another source.

“A pouch, huh?  Kind of kinky, but I’d do it for you,” Griffin teased, while kissing the side of my neck as he worked his way to my lips.  “I’ve already told you, I’d be happy to carry you everywhere.  You’re the one who insists on walking.  I’d rather have you in my arms at all times.”

I was starting to see his logic and it would be a great way to gain eight inches of height, too.

“I’d love nothing more, but unfortunately I have to go to work,” I said, making no effort to rise.

“Gotta pay for your new pad somehow.  It’s fantastic, by the way—very ‘you.’”

“You haven’t even seen it all…yet.”

“Oh, what have I missed?” he asked with a wicked twinkle in his eye.

What a naughty man, planting ideas in my head when I had to leave.

“My closet, it’s freaking spectacular.  Every girl’s wet dream.”  Ha!  Take that, Mr. McTeasey.

He let out a pitiful moan.

“Maybe if you’re a really good boy, I’ll show you later,” I added, turning the dial up on my torment.

“You, Lo, are a cruel woman.  I’ll have to think of ways to pay you back while I spend the day here breaking down your trash.”

I had a feeling his creative retribution would be more pleasure than punishment.

“That mouth of yours is writing some big checks…I hope you’re prepared to cash them.”

“My mouth is more than ready to deliver,” he said, his words reverberating through my body.

Oh my, I remembered what his mouth could do…vividly.

“Yes, please!”

He swatted my butt before sitting us up. 

Wanting to leave him with as much anticipation as he had created in me, I kissed him like my life depended on it.  We were both panting when we finished.

“Think about
that
while you play with my boxes.”

I stood up and headed to my beloved closet, leaving him sputtering.

Thirty minutes later, I was dressed and out the door.  I passed Griff, who had already begun breaking down the mountain of recyclables that had invaded my garage.  When I reached my car, I gasped loud enough that Griffin heard me and was by my side before I had reached for the paper.  He snatched the page from my windshield.

“Mother fucker!” he hissed before pulling out his cell.

I snatched the note from his hand while he was distracted and read it myself.

Mother fucker.  The threats had been arriving every week, growing progressively more ominous, but this was the first that wasn’t urging me to back out of testifying…there was no ‘or else’ this time.  Previously, the notes were delivered under my windshield wiper during my shift at Higher Yearning.  This time it was delivered outside my new home in a gated community.  The implication wasn’t lost on me.  He knew where I was, where I lived, and the minimum-wage security guy was no deterrent.  Shit.

My day had started so damn well.  Now Hunter was going to come over here with Detective Norse to collect evidence.  Maybe I could have Griffin drop me off at work and I could talk to the cops later.  Part of me was terrified of the ‘he’ drawing near, but a larger part wanted to flip him the bird, scream ‘fuck you,’ and carry on with my day.  I was done with letting the psycho and his family tie me in knots and derail my life.  Enough was enough.

I walked over to Griffin, who paced like an agitated bear.

“Hey, babe?  Can you give me a ride to work?”

He stopped pacing and turned his head toward me in slow motion, a look on his face that loosely translated to ‘are you out of your fucking mind?’

“Hunter and the cops can do their thing with my car and then I’ll give my statement later.  You know, I don’t want to leave Ev in a bind.”

Griffin continued to stare at me as if I had just told him aliens had beamed me to their spaceship, impregnated me, and then returned me to earth—all in the last sixty seconds.

He was starting to freak me out a little.

“You know what, don’t worry about it.  It’s better if you finish breaking up those boxes so I can park in the garage—safer.  Definitely a better plan.  I’ll text Meg; she can pick me up on her way in,” I rambled.

He swiped the phone from my hand with lightning speed.

“Hey,” I objected.

“You. Are. Not. Going. Anywhere.”

“You are overreacting,” I said with an eye roll for emphasis.

“Overreacting?  A homicidal maniac just told you that your death is imminent, and I’m overreacting?” he asked, barely restraining his anger.

“So I’m supposed to live the rest of my life in hiding?  What, should I testify then enter the witness protection program and leave my life behind…leave you behind?  Or worse, not testify at all?  I won’t live that way.  I won’t let him control my life or my decisions.” 

“This isn’t a game, Sam, and it isn’t about reclaiming control over your life.  This is survival.  Control is irrelevant if you’re dead.  You will not go anywhere without protection until we find a way to stop him.  Do you understand me?”

If I had taken a moment to breathe, to think about the fear motivating his tyrannical commands, I might have been more reasonable—maybe.  But I didn’t take that breath; I exploded.

“He doesn’t get to have that power over me…and neither do you.  You’re back on the job one day after ditching me for three weeks and you think you have a right to order me around?  Think again.  This is
my
life.  Mine!  So you can zip those perfect fucking lips.”

“You think my lips are perfect?” he asked with a sexy smile.

Son of a bitch.  I knew what he was doing, and I would not be swayed by his charm or suggestive smile.

“I did until you started ordering me around with them,” I huffed.