Shifter (19 page)

“I had so much fun. I kept dropping hints that something was up, and I could see the little gears turning in your head. You tried so hard to figure out what I was hiding.”

She only scowls at me.

“What I can’t believe is that you were able to sit on this as long as you have,” Allison comments as she pulls her makeup from her bag, trying to decide which colors will work best on me. “If it were me, I would be busting at the seams. I’ve heard how good looking this officer is. He occasionally patrols the strip mall my sister works at. She had to call him in on a shop-lifter once.”

I love my friends. I do, but sometimes they baffle me. I mean, really, they act as if they’ve just met me. I am not the type of girl to go jumping up and down over a boy. It
is
totally like me to keep something like this to myself. Mostly because I seem to be the only one I know who fully understands the reality of who I am.

Yes, Mark—wow, it is weird to think of him by his first name—asked me out, but that doesn’t mean anything. He probably feels sorry for me for all the crap Devan has done to me. I will get excited when we’ve been together for a year and he hasn’t cheated on me, put me down in anyway, left me, stolen from me, etc.

“Still, you should have told someone,” Carrie scolded.

“Right, because the last guy I went out with was such a winner,” I say.

“Don’t be so pessimistic. Everything I’ve ever heard about Officer Richards has been positive. He’s a great guy,” Allison says.

“We’ll see,” I return half-heartedly.

“Abby. Stop,” Carrie demands.

“Fine. Let’s get this over with. I have to meet him in an hour.”

“Face me,” Allison says, turning my chair in her direction.

------------

I arrive at the restaurant five minutes early and am a little disappointed that he isn’t already here. I had expected him to be waiting with a table. Standing all alone at the hostess’ booth is embarrassing. I had to remind myself that he was a cop and he might have gotten hung up at work.

“Do you have a reservation?” the hostess asks when I enter the building.

“I’m not sure. If we have one it might be under Richards,” I say nervously.

She checks her book and there is nothing under his last name or mine. The hostess smiles sadly at me as I take a seat and wait for Mark to show. I knew he hadn’t really liked me, but you would have thought that he would have at least called to cancel, not let me show up and look like a fool.

At ten minutes after seven, I’m still waiting.

And waiting.

And waiting.

At nearly half past seven, when he still hasn’t arrived, I get up to leave.

“Can I leave a message?” I ask the hostess.

“Yes. What’s the name?”

“Officer Mark Richards.”

“Oh.” She says this in a way that suggests she knows something about him. Something I should know. Something that is going to upset me.

“Do you know him?” I ask tentatively.

“Sort of. I…uh...”

“What do you know about him?”

“I don’t know if I...”

“Please. I don’t know him well. I would really like to know what I’m getting into. So far tonight he isn’t making a good impression.”

“No. I guess he isn’t. You sure you don’t know him?”

“I’m sure. I’ve only seen him a few times and every time it was because of a crazy woman who wanted to steal my cat or a crazy man who thought I had kidnapped his brother.”

“You’ve been having fun,” she says, searching my face for the truth behind the outlandish things I’ve just said. “I hate to be the one to make your life worse, but he was here last night with another woman. They seemed pretty cozy.”

“Of course he was. You know what. Forget the message. If he shows, I don’t want him to know I waited this long for him.”

She nods, and as I turn to leave, I get another surprise. Devan is walking my way from inside the restaurant seating area with a beautiful blonde-haired woman on his arm. I try to turn away quickly before he sees me. It doesn’t work. “Shit. This is going to be fun,” I mumble to myself.

“Excuse me,” the hostess says.

“Nothing. My last bad date is headed this way. And he saw me.”

“Sorry. You want me to distract them while you leave.”

“No, I might as well talk to him.”

“Abby. How are you?” Devan asks timidly, cutting glances between his date and me.

“I’m fine. You guys have a good dinner?” I ask, smiling at his date.

He looks a little sheepish at my question, but says, “Yes, it was wonderful.”

“Are you meeting someone?” he asks and the interest in his voice is obvious to all present.

I decided not to lie. “I was, but he didn’t show. You’d think after the last guy I went out with I’d learn to screen the men I say ‘yes’ to a little better.”

His date scowls. The hostess smirks. The tone of my voice makes it obvious to everyone I was making a jab at him.

“Who stood you up?” Devan asks with too much jealousy in his voice.

“If you have to know, Richards did.”

“The police officer I…”

“Yep, the officer you sent to my house. The one you convinced that I had kidnapped your brother. By the way, how did you convince him that I was capable of kidnapping a man who is at least a head taller than I am, and who outweighs me. I haven’t been able to figure that one out,” I insert sarcastically before turning to his date. “Watch what you say or do or he will show up at your house with the cops and a search warrant accusing you of kidnapping his brother.”

“Abby,” he snaps. “That’s not fair.”

“What? It’s true. Did you not show up at my door with the cops, not what two, three days after our one and only date?”

“I did, but I had...”

“You had shit. You saw your damned brother’s name on a piece of paper and lost your mind.” I stop there before I lose control. I’m not mad at him, I’m mad at Mark. “Look, it doesn’t matter. You’ve moved on. I’ve moved on. This was simply a chance encounter.” And it really had been. This restaurant was pretty much it for nice restaurants in this town.

“You two stay here. Give me five minutes to get in my car and leave. And hopefully you and I will never have to see each other again.”

“Abby?”

“Don’t. You send Darius to my door from now on when you have a suspicion or a witness, all right?”

“Fine.”

“Thank you. It was nice sort of meeting you...” I say to his date.

“Katie.”

“Katie. I promise I’m not this much of a bitch. I’ve just been through a lot these last few months and your boyfriend here has been at the root of most of it. I’m sure he’s a nice guy and please don’t judge him on my experience. Now if you will excuse me, I’m going to try and salvage what little dignity I have left and go home and watch
Acheron
.”

“That’s a great movie,” Katie says.

“I know, right? Too bad there aren’t any men in this world like him.”

She laughs. I say goodbye and walk out the door. I’m crying silently before I even get to the car. It is all I can to do to calm myself enough to drive. I can’t believe it. What are the chances that I would run into Devan on the same night that a cop stands me up? The fates are playing a serious game with me. As soon as I figure out a way to, I’m going to get back at them.

Half way home, my phone vibrates in my purse. At a stop sign, I pull it out. It is my sister. “Man, I really can’t talk to you right now,” I say into the phone, slam it shut, and put it back in my purse.

Dimitri is waiting patiently in the living room window when I pull up. Right now, I’m thinking that becoming the crazy old cat lady isn’t sounding too bad. My phone vibrates again.

“Sorry, sis, but I’m not in the mood tonight,” I say to my purse. When the phone stops vibrating, I flip it open and hold down the red button until it shuts down completely.

“Hi, baby,” I say to Sebastian as I enter the living room, bolting the door securely behind me. “Sorry, boy. I’m not in the mood to play right now,” I say as I stroke a hyperactive Sebastian.

A second later, the house phone rings. I go over to it, look down at the caller ID, and flip the ringer off. “Get the freaking picture. I’m not answering the phone. I know you have some sort of sister radar that can sense when I’m having a bad day, but why can’t you sense that I don’t want to talk about it? Ever. What’s done is done, and I’m over it all.”

I continue to rant as I make my way to the bathroom where I sling things around and start the shower. Immediately a wall of steam hits me. Damn, that water is hot. When I step in, Dimitri walks over to the curtain, paws at it, and meows a cat whine at me. I don’t acknowledge him.

I stay under the water until it starts to cool. The water had been too hot. Hotter than I should have been able to handle. My body is red, bright red. I look almost burned. Steam rises from my body as I wrap a towel around my chest when I get out.

My eyes are heavy and swollen, and I have a beaten, resigned look. I leave the bathroom, only absently flipping off the light, and go to my bedroom where I lay on top of my comforter and begin to cry again. Leaping onto the bed, Dimitri crawls up next to me. 

Chapter 19

~~~Abby~~~

Slowly my brain wakes. My head hurts. My eyes sting. They burn and feel swollen. My body is sore and achy as if I have been on the treadmill for hours. Despite all the hurt, though, I feel oddly comfortable and warm. The room is still dark. I know this even though I refuse to open my eyes. I know this because no light filters through my lids, meaning I’ve only slept for a few hours.

Twisting slightly to stretch out my limbs, I notice a number of things almost all at once. One, I have a blanket over me. A blanket that I hadn’t had on my bed or had pulled out of the closet in months. Two, I am naked under the blanket. The towel I had wrapped around me when I lay down is now lying under me. The towel had been damp, and I am sure the moisture has seeped into my comforter and sheets. The third thing I notice is that I’m not alone. Someone is in the bed beside me.

My first thought is that Carrie has come over, seen the distraught look on my face and my sad appearance, and crawled into bed with me after pulling one of my blankets from the hall closet. Then I realize that my sister, as much as she loves me, wouldn’t have wrapped her arm around my naked waist. Even if she had come over, she would have covered me and there would be three other bodies on or near me. Plus, Carrie is a short, skinny thing. The arm around me is heavy. The leg I touch with my bare feet as I stretch out is hairy.

My heart begins to pound fiercely in my chest as realization sets in. There is a man in my bed. I rack my brain for any memory of coming into contact with a male after leaving the restaurant. I know I didn’t because I didn’t go anywhere else. I came straight home. I didn’t call anyone. Didn’t invite anyone to come over. Fear floods me. Had someone broken in? Am I all right? It takes everything I have in me to stop my body from shaking. I have to take inventory of myself. Am I hurt? Have I been raped?

Nothing that I can feel feels bruised. My body doesn’t feel violated. As long as it has been since I have had sex, I am sure my body would be feeling it right now if he had forced himself on and inside of me. I would be achy and probably more than a little sore down there. I feel none of that. This fact calms me a little, but it doesn’t help explain who is in my bed and why. Who would have felt comfortable enough with me to crawl up next to me while I was naked? Come to think of it, considering what I feel pressing against my bottom, who would feel comfortable enough to be naked with me?

With the complete comprehension of the fact that there is a naked man curled up next to me in my own bed, and I know it is my own bed because I recognize the feel and smell of my own blankets, I fling the blanket off me along with the arm of the unknown man. I scramble from the bed, grab the lamp from the nightstand, rip the shade off it, turn on the light, and shine it directly into the man’s face.

For a second, the sight of him knocks me off my guard. He is absolutely the most gorgeous man I have ever seen. And…and he is Dimitri. He looks exactly like the flyer. I can’t stop my eyes from roaming his naked body, which is completely bare to me, considering that I had flung the blanket into the floor. He is damn near perfect. I’m unable to stop the sudden heat that flushes my body and pools into the center of me.

“What…What the?” he mumbles, waking and shielding his eyes from the light.

“Who are you? How did you get in my home?” I scream and shove the bulb end of the lamp at him as if it is a poker.

He doesn’t answer. He only lies there looking at himself and the bedroom.

“I asked you a question. And you better start answering before I call the police,” I scream again.

My tone gets his attention, and he looks at me. A flash of a smile spreads across his face, as he looks me up and down. For a brief second I contemplate grabbing something to cover my body, but decide that would be wasting time, then in a calm voice he says, “Abby, put down the lamp.”