Safe to love you (Ink Series - Spin Off Book 2) (3 page)

''Please don't kill the messenger. I know someone who desperately wants to talk to you.'' Her expression is mischievous. ''He begged me to come and grab you, says he has to meet you.''

It has to be my mystery man. He’s found a way to rescue me. A huge smile appears on my lips. He can have me all he wants. If my heart was rapidly beating earlier, it was nothing in comparison to how it’s pounding now. I resist the urge to run, to try and get to him quicker.
What's happening to me?

''Don’t look so shell-shocked,” the blonde woman mutters.  “Remember we know each other—your boyfriend's still staring at you.''

Shit! Of course, he’ll be watching me like a hawk, he’s always so suspicious. I paste a bright smile on my face and try to look natural.

''Where are we going?'' I ask anxiously. To be honest, I'm a little scared that Dean will follow us right away. He’s certainly not going to wait long before he comes to take possession of me again.

''We're almost there, pretty girl!'' the blonde announces happily.

Me? Pretty?
She's
the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Tall and slim, with blond hair to die for and her smile is bewitching. Why on earth would she call me pretty girl? I’m stunned to the point where I’m speechless. I'm just an ordinary woman, nothing in comparison to her natural beauty.

Suddenly, I see the handsome stranger. He’s leaning against a wall, and he looks anxious. I’m conflicted—half of me is more alive than ever before, while the other half is scared shitless.

''There you go my friend; you owe me your life.” She motions toward me with her head. “Her boyfriend was about to rip my head off. I think he's a
little
possessive.'' Sadly, the blond woman isn’t joking. She emphasized ‘little’, connoting that Dean was VERY possessive…her sarcasm was hard to miss.

I speak up, knowing she’s right. ''He is possessive,
very
actually. Whatever it is you need to tell me, I'd suggest you hurry.'' I glance around, searching for Dean. ''He's probably already on his way to find me.''

The handsome guy speaks to the blond woman. ''Ali, can you keep an eye out, make sure we get a couple of minutes?''

''What am I? Do I look like a freaking bodyguard to you? Geez, Williams. What's wrong with you?'' Ali, the blond woman rolls her eyes, her hands on her hips as she glares at my handsome stranger.

I can’t help but laugh.

''That's the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard in my life.'' His voice makes my knees go weak as he continues. ''And I'm telling you tonight’s concert—Muse—they’re my favorite band. Today is definitely my lucky day.'' He grins and my heart melts. I’ve never believed in fairy tales before, but right now, he's my prince.

The handsome guy speaks again, which is probably a good thing, because I’m staring at him like a lovesick fool. ''Look, I get it. You have a boyfriend, but I have to tell you…what I felt when I touched you—well, it was...I don't know what the hell it was. Words fail me.'' He shakes his head bashfully and shrugs. ''It was...magical, amazing even. I don't know what it was. I probably sound like a fucking moron right now but I’m...ah, shit! I don’t know how to explain it.''

''I felt it too.'' I find my voice and rush to reassure him, placing a hand on his forearm. I want to touch him again. I need to know if touching him will have the same effect on me—us, and I need to know I'm not going crazy. The same energy is there again, tickling the skin on my fingers, thickening the air between us. We stare at each other; neither of us understands what’s happening. The muscles in his arm tighten beneath my hand and I lower my gaze to where my fingers touch his skin. His arm is covered with tattoos.
So freaking hot!
My breath hitches in my throat and I struggle to swallow.

He wraps his arm around my back and draws me close to him until we're only inches apart, staring right into each other’s eyes. His grey eyes are to die for, and I’m struggling to breathe.

He leans closer and brushes his lips against mine. It begins as a soft, sweet kiss and gradually I turn it into something deeper, more passionate. I’ve never been kissed like this before and I could happily kiss him all night. I lift my hands and run them through his dishevelled black hair.

''Hey, he’s coming!'' Ali shouts as she repositions herself next to us. ''Let her go, now!'' she fervently hisses, fear palpable in her tone.

He instantly lets go of me and I’m lost, bereft without his touch. I watch him slipping away into the crowd and I want to yell after him, tell him to stop, but Dean is approaching and what he might do scares me.

''Quick, give me your number'' Ali asks as she grabs her phone from her purse and looks at me expectantly.

''It’s 206-555-7854.'' I watch Ali punch the numbers into her phone and I hope she got them right. It's my only chance to ever see him again.

''Baby, what are you doing? You’ve missed your favorite song. Come on, now.'' Dean grabs my hand firmly in his, and yanks me toward him like the possessive ass he is and we head toward the concert hall.

''Wait, Abs! You said 206-555-7864? Is that right?'' Ali yells.

The music is incredibly loud. I know she’s got the first six digits’ right, but I’m not sure about the last four. ''7854!'' I yell, as Dean drags me back into the mass of hot sweaty bodies dancing to Muse. I’m not even sure if she heard me. I hope she did.

I’m furious with Dean for behaving like a complete moron. I can’t take this for another minute, I just can’t! I try to pull my hand out of his grip, but he's holding on so tightly, it’s painful.

''Let go of my hand, Dean, you're hurting me!'' Tears blur my vision.

''Abbie, come on. Are you seriously going to fucking cry? Here?” He stood there shaking his head at me like a disapproving father. “I paid two hundred bucks for your fucking ticket, and you're crying?'' He’s trying to make me feel ungrateful. He always manipulates the situation.

''I’m crying because of you, Dean! You're hurting me, and you're treating me like shit in front of my friend! I’ve had enough of your crap.'' Tears roll down my cheeks, and I wipe at them angrily. ''I’ve had enough of your shit! I’m done with you, Dean. I am fucking DONE!'' I finally yank my hand from his and turn to leave.

He grabs my arms in a fierce grip, trying to force me to stay. I'm sure it’s going to bruise. ''Don’t touch me again, or I’ll have security kick your ass! It’s your choice,'' I say coldly, trying my hardest to stand up to him and not give in to the terror that is threatening to overwhelm me.

He lets go, giving me a rough shove. ''I’m not done with you, Abbie,'' his voice and posture are threatening and I begin to tremble.

Dean had warned me in the past that he would never let me leave him. By taking this stand, I’m entering into a war zone. Dean thinks I can’t live without him because he's all I’ve got, but I’m sure I’ll survive. I’ll need time to regain my self-confidence, but I’ll survive. I’m just terrified of what the next few days will hold.

''Well…I’m done with you!'' I shout. ''Get over your fucking self, Dean.''

I turn and leave the theatre, trembling uncontrollably. I’ve ten bucks in my pocket, not enough to get home. I’m crying uncontrollably, and no doubt I look like a blubbering wreck. I keep glancing back to make sure Dean’s not following me, but thankfully there’s no sign of him.

I navigate my way outside and sit on a bench, trying to calm down. I have to figure out what to do before the concert ends and Dean comes out, or worse, decides to leave the concert and come after me. I wish my handsome stranger would come out and find me here. I think about going back in and searching for him, but it’s too risky. God, I’m so ridiculous. I don't even know him, how can I expect him to save me from Dean’s rage?

There is only one thing I can do, right here and now, and it’s to promise myself to never let Dean in my life again. NEVER. He probably won’t let go easily but I can’t put my life at risk again. He’s not healthy and eventually, he’ll have control of my entire life. This can’t be. My life is worth something more than Dean.

I promise.

I end up walking to my apartment. It’s a long walk but it’s my only choice, with little cash and fear of Dean coming out and trying to ‘convince’ me to go home with him. The night is fresh and stars pierce through the clusters of clouds overhead in the darkened sky. I try to stop sobbing, calming myself so I don’t alarm the people I pass on the street. Looking like a freak isn’t how I want to top off an already fucked night.

After walking fifteen blocks, I arrive home and warn the security officer not to let Dean in. The security in my building is excellent, and I’m confident they’ll keep Dean out. When I get to the apartment, I lock myself inside and say a silent prayer that Dean will leave me alone.

I’ve turned off my cell phone—I don’t want him to be able to contact me. He needs to get the message that we’re done. The stress and anxiety of the past few hours has completely exhausted me. I change into pyjamas and that small change makes me feel a little better. It’s been an emotional night and my hands are still trembling.

I walk into the bedroom and slump onto the bed. Hopefully, I won’t have any trouble falling asleep. I wish I had some sleeping pills, because I’m sure I’m going to spend all night tossing and turning, worrying about Dean. It turns out I don’t need to worry, because as soon as my head hits the pillow, I fall asleep.

I wake up with pain in my back and knees, which is usually the result of lying in bed for too long. I open one eye and peer at the alarm clock—discovering it’s three in the afternoon! Was I that exhausted? My muscles scream when I finally get out of bed. God! That fifteen block walk, combined with a whole lot of stress, has nearly killed me.

Regardless of the pain, I feel light-hearted and better than I’ve felt in months. Definitely a lot better than I did last night. I’ve done the right thing, I know that for a fact. I'm worried about what’s coming though. Dean will try to force his way back into my life. He’s not the type of guy who will let go without a fight. I shrug to myself. If I’ve got to stay locked inside the apartment for a week, until Dean gets the message, I’ll do it. I have plenty of work and food on hand to keep me going without going out into the world.

I’m not going to cry over the break-up, because Dean isn’t worth it.

I head in for a shower and have to force myself to get out because the hot water feels heavenly but when I get out my heart stops. The phone in my apartment is ringing loudly, echoing through the silence. Startled, I answer the call cautiously. Nobody ever calls on the landline.

''Hello?''

''Ms. Rylee? It’s Joe Collins from security.''

My heart beats a little faster. ''Is everything okay?''

''Mr. Hurley is downstairs. In fact, he’s been waiting outside the lobby for over ten hours and refuses to leave.''

“I don’t want to see him. He’s not allowed in the building from now on,'' I confirm.

''Thank you, Ma’am. I understand. I’ll ensure he leaves the building immediately. Good afternoon, Ms. Rylee.''

“Damn it,”
I yell, slamming down the receiver, a ripple of anger runs through my entire body.
Please have him let me go…let me be free of him.

The outside world won't be safe for a while, not until Dean gets sick of this game. When I need to go out, I'll have to be extra vigilant and ensure he can’t get to me. While he hasn’t been physically violent in the past, I’m concerned that he might if he’s furious.

I slump on the couch, chewing on a fingernail thoughtfully and watch the sun going down.  My thoughts turn from worrying about Dean, and how he's going to behave in the next couple of days, to the person who's haunting my thoughts constantly...

The mysterious stranger I met last night. I still don’t know his first name. Something... Williams. It all started with his electrifying touch, something I’ve never experienced. We connected in some, unreal and amazingly unique way. The one kiss we shared was the most amazing experience of my life. I’ve never been kissed like that before.

I want him to kiss me again, so badly I ache for it. I truly hope he calls me, but I’m worried about whether his friend got my phone number right.

Presley

“FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!”
The phone number isn’t any fucking good! The number Alicia gave me belongs to some stupid used car dealership.

I can't believe I'm not going to be able to contact her. I don’t even know her first name, for Christ’s sake! That’s it; I'm never going to be able to find her again. All I’ve got to go on is her nickname, Abs.  How the hell is that going to help me?

I've heard about people calling in on live radio shows before, in hopes of finding a person they they’ve only met once. I could try the same thing, but the idea makes me feel like a total loser.

Besides, she already has a boyfriend. The dude’s an asshole, I could tell by the way he acted around her, but he was still obviously her boyfriend. I don’t want to get her in any more trouble than I might already have caused her yesterday. I played with fire by pulling that stunt and anything could have happened. He might have caught us, hell; he could have beaten the crap out of me for making a move on his girl. He could have lost his temper with Abs for even talking to me.  Shit—I hope she’s okay.

I sit at my desk and all I can think about is the taste of her lips against mine. So sweet and luscious, she was amazing. I need to discover a way to find her, but I’m fairly certain I’m asking for the impossible.

After I kissed her last night, I didn’t see her again. Her friend was still there, as was the moron with the tie, but she was nowhere to be seen. I even went outside, hoping she’d maybe slipped out of the show, but I didn’t see her.

Giving up frustrated, I went back inside and I tried to enjoy the rest of the show, thinking I’d be able to telephone her today. I have to admit, Muse is the best live band I've ever seen. I'm glad I stayed until the end, but I'm pissed that I may have lost her forever.

The rest of the day was a very ordinary Saturday moping around, playing with different combinations of numbers and calling a dozen different wrong numbers. To my dismay, I still didn’t find her.

On Sunday, sick of my glum mood, Joshua and Alicia forced me out of the apartment and into doing something constructive. They took me bowling. It was fun; I can’t lie and say I didn’t have a good time. I kicked both their butts, big time, which did put a smile on my face. Alicia was sorry that she got the phone number wrong, but she promised to keep her eyes open and try to find her. How she’s going to do that, I don’t know—this is a big city and there are a lot of people in it. But hey, I’m desperate, and I’ll take any help I can get if it means seeing my mystery woman again.

After two lethargic days, Monday couldn’t have come any sooner. It’s been three days since I met her and three days since I’ve lost her. I’m suffering from a sense of helplessness. My desire to find her is incredibly strong. There’s this voice inside my head, promising me I will find her again, but when? How?

I felt something extraordinary when I was with her. I desperately want to experience that feeling again. She is so special and stunning. As soon as I laid eyes on her, I knew how amazing she was and I know she experienced the same thing as I did. The little moan that escaped her lips when we kissed told me how much she loved it. I'm not an idiot. She isn’t the first girl I've kissed in my life and had them moan in pleasure, but it was never like this with any other woman. There is something about her that I can’t describe. She’s the whole package – her smile, her eyes and those lips.

I don’t know what to do with myself. Grabbing a note pad, I start sketching her from memory. It’s an okay drawing, but it doesn’t do her justice.

My door is pushed open. Nobody ever knocks around here. ''Presley?''

“C’mon in, Ali.''

Her heels click across the wooden floor into the office. ''What are you doing? Working?'' she questions.

''Nah, not working. Just messing around. Nothing important.'' I don't tell her that I'm sketching my mystery woman, because Ali already feels lousy enough about the phone number situation. I know she didn't do it intentionally; the concert was so fucking loud, I understand how she could have gotten the numbers messed up.

''Joshua’s working tonight, do you have any plans?'' Ali asks. She fiddles with some of the gear on my desk as she talks.

''No, I don’t have anything on. Have any ideas?''

''We could order in food and watch horror movies?'' For a girl, Ali is pretty tough. She adores horror movies, and absolutely nothing freaks her out.

''Sounds good.''

Ali grinned.  ''Alright, it’s a plan.”

Just like that, Ali’s manages to keep me occupied for another night. When she clicks back out of the office, my eyes settle back on the sketch and, yeah, it does resemble my mystery woman. I add a little green shading to her eyes and a touch of raspberry pink to her lips. I keep thinking about the need to find her. I don’t know anything about her—just enough to drive me completely fucking insane.

Abbie

Over a week has passed. Dean hasn’t been seen around the apartment complex in two days.
Thank God.

I am way overdue for some fresh air. Walking towards the theatre I find myself thinking about
him
; that mystery man with the intoxicating lips. Lost in the memory, I touch my fingers over my mouth and wish it was him again. My blood is racing sufficiently now and my heart is beating so loudly I can hear it over the cars on the road. It’s time for a drink and lucky for me there is a bar directly across from the theater. I suck in a deep breath of the cool breeze and let myself calm down. I look for any cars and as soon as there are none, I run across the street and go right in.

When I walk into the bar the first thing that comes into view is all the posters declaring that it is ladies night—my luck is continuing. You can’t go wrong with a buck for beer. Okay, there are many ways this can go wrong, but I need that release from all the tension in my life. I order a beer, sip it slowly and let my eyes wander over the others seated at the bar. My mind once again wanders to that unforgettable kiss and I'm sure I'm blushing. By now I’m certain Blondie didn’t get the phone number correct, I’m positive he would have called by now,
if
he’d had the right number. I should've gone searching for her, made sure she’d gotten it right, but I’m an idiot; what else can I say? I didn’t expect that night to end the way it did. It's terrible. Pathetic actually, to think I’m pining over a guy I met once and have no way of finding.

I am getting ready to order a second beer, when the bartender places one in front of me. His treat, he says. I smile at him and nod my thanks.

I start thinking about my situation...that I’m living in Seattle, trying to make a living. How I recently completed my studies, which was the whole reason for moving here in the first place. Up until a week ago, I had exactly three friends—all of whom I can now forget about. So, I'm basically alone in this big city and the only damn person who cares is a bartender. Great!

The depressing range my thoughts cycle through naturally bring me down into a deep funk. By the time I’m drinking a fifth beer, I can see people coming out of the theatre across the road. There was a play performing tonight. I find myself searching the crowds, like an idiot, hoping that I will see a guy named ‘Something Williams’ come out. I start to think I really should go home now because I’m getting dizzy. I didn’t eat before I left the apartment, so the beers are rapidly taking effect. This is not good.

I stumble out of the bar and wait in line for a taxi.

''Abs, what are you doing here!'' A female voice asks.

I turn around wondering who would be talking to me out here. For a second, I feel all oxygen gone from my lungs as I fear it might be Jessie. What am I supposed to tell her now? I’m surprised to discover it's a blonde girl and she looks familiar, but I don’t remember her name or where I last saw her. The adrenaline still pumping in my veins, I try to calm down.

''I’m waiting for a cab, isn’t... Isn’t it obvious?” I giggle like a lunatic, tripping over my own shoes and end up collapsing on my knees at her feet. She helps me to my feet, and I lean against the wall and watch her grab her phone from her bag.

''Where are you, freak? I need you to get your ass over here,
right now
. I’m at the Lucky 13 bar.'' She wraps one arm around my shoulders, making sure I don’t fall over for a second time. Despite my drunkenness, I’m worried.

''Wait…wait...who did you call? Who are you?'' I question. Oh my God! She’s that girl from the concert and she just called
him
. This is an absolute nightmare; I’m a drunken mess, and utterly mortified.

''You’ll be fine. He's going to take you home before you manage to hurt yourself again.''

We lapse into an uncomfortable silence. I struggle to figure out a way to get out of him seeing me like this. Maybe if I give her my phone number again? I don’t want him to see me in this state.

A BMW pulls up in front of us, and he gets out. From the look in his eyes, he’s utterly shocked.

''She’s had a few drinks; I think you should take her home,'' the blonde says, and I vaguely recollect her name being Ali.  “And you owe me another huge favor, freak.”

''What the hell happened to you?” he questions gently. “Why are you here at the bar by yourself and why are you so drunk?'' He's obviously concerned and asking way too many questions for my liking. Not to mention being a lot bossy. He wraps a protective arm around my shoulder and I feel my whole body tense.

I shrug him off and stumble slightly. ''I dumped the loser I was with last week. It’s over and I was alone and bored, so I came to Lucky 13 to relax and unwind for a while.'' My eyes begin to tear up and I have no idea why. Maybe, I need to keep my distance from him, I don’t know him at all. I should be more careful. Stepping away, I trip on my own feet and almost fall down the sidewalk. Of course, he catches me just in time. His arm around me feel so good. I am safe, something I haven’t been in a long time and I’m bereft without his touch.

His grey eyes soften and he offers me a faint smile. It feels like everything around me is in slow motion. Staring at him, I’m fascinated by his smile. ''Come on, get in the car. I’ll drive you home. I’m Presley, Presley Williams, by the way.”

Even if I’m drawn to his sex appeal, I’m still uncertain about him. Should I trust him or not? I hesitate for a couple of seconds but I decide to follow my instinct. Somehow, I have a good feeling about him. I remember how good it felt when he touched me at the concert and his kiss. Maybe, it’s his lucky day. “Abbie... Abbie Rylee.”

“Where do you live, Abbie?''

''The Bellevue Towers.''

Presley offers me a wicked grin. ''Let me know if you’re going to be sick, okay? I like my car.''

Is he serious? I'm not
that
drunk…am I? ''Don’t worry,'' I mutter, a flush of embarrassment working its way over my cheeks.

''Sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.'' His voice is low, his tone sincere.

''Just take me home, please.'' I’m so tired.

He settles me into the passenger seat, gets in the car and turns on the music. Muse is playing softly through the speakers. I can sense his eyes turning towards me every five seconds, but I don't mind. I can’t believe I'm actually sitting in his car. The beers I’ve consumed are affecting my judgement badly and I keep wishing he would touch me.

Presley parks at the entrance of my apartment. He gets out and strides around the front of the car to my door, opening it for me. He offers me his hand. I hesitate…and when I peek up at him, I notice he's grinning. I look cautiously at his hand for a second time, before taking it.

''We want the South Tower,'' I say. I find myself telling him my apartment number, before he even asks.

We catch the elevator and he pushes the button for the seventh floor. He never releases my hand and the electric energy is there again. His hand warms mine up, his touch feels electric. I find myself wishing I lived on the top floor, so I could hold onto him for just a little bit longer.

When we get to my apartment, I release his hand to retrieve my keys from my pocket. He watches quietly as I unlock the door and step inside, but he remains outside. I realize he won't come in unless I invite him. I’m not used to that sort of politeness. I was however, used to Dean’s controlling attitude and he never would have asked to come in. He would have waltzed right in—whether he was invited or not.