Truly Mine (22 page)

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Authors: Amy Roe

BOOK: Truly Mine
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I cup my breasts and roughly knead them as I pinch my nipples until they perk up into stiff peaks. As I rub my hands over them, I want so much more—namely, Tyler’s warm wet mouth to suck each of them until it’s just painful enough that I moan in the most satisfied way.

I let my hands fall against my stomach and over my hips to my thighs. Spreading my legs, I watch the marks that appear on the inside of my thigh as I grab and pinch it. Digging my nails into my flesh, I need just a little pain to counteract the pleasure I’m about to give myself.

I slide my fingers under my panties and through my damp folds. My breathing is rapid though my own touch is barely enough to satisfy the blaze inside of me. Imagining Tyler’s masterful hands on me, I fall back on my bed and continue to massage my clit just the way he would. My body heats up to a nice toasty warmth, and I let out a moan of relief.

Trying to stay in the moment, I shimmy out of my panties and place my feet on the edge of the bed, spreading myself. He would bury his fingers deep inside me and lick every inch of me. I thrust two fingers inside. With my other hand, I rub my clit, leaning up to watch myself. My hips move up and down with my thrusting fingers, my tits bounce just the way Tyler loves them to. I need his lips on me so fucking bad. I scream his name as I find my release. It’s quick and relieving, but it doesn’t come near what Tyler does to my body. He sends me to places no other man has, and I know now that no other man will.

I fall back on the bed, and for the first time, I wonder if living without Tyler is an option. I have never ached for something so bad like I do for him. In every single way possible, he completes me, no matter how much I don’t want him to.

I decide on a bath in hopes of relaxing myself.

Once out of the bath, I settle in my chair on the balcony with a book. Just as I sit down, I hear a ringing from inside the house. I rush to answer.

Grabbing my phone, I press the Send key. “Hello?”

“Well, she finally answers.” A deep voice that sounds altered comes through the speaker.

I pull the phone away from my face. In my hurry to answer the call, I didn’t bother to look at the display. As I suspected, it’s the unknown caller who has been blowing my phone up all day.

Slowly, I press the phone back to my ear. “Whom, may I ask, am I speaking with?”

I barely get the words out before the loud angry voice assaults me, “Oh, don’t play that proper shit with me. I know you. You can’t fool me like you do everyone else, bitch.”

My mouth falls open. I gasp before becoming paralyzed by fear. Not able to exhale the breath I just sucked in, I panic. Immediately, I rush to my front door and lock the handle and then the dead bolt.

“Who is this?” I say sternly.

“Locking the door won’t help you. I will get what’s mine.”

How the hell? Is someone watching me?
I look around my apartment, as if I’m going to find someone here with me.

“Who is this?” I say again, trying to keep the fear from my voice but failing.

“Oh, yes, be afraid. I love it. And don’t you worry your pretty little ass about who this is. Just know this, whore. I’m watching you, and I will get what I want.”

Not believing what I’m hearing, I slap my hand over my mouth and drop down to the ottoman near the balcony door.

“So, watch your back!” he screams so loudly that I pull the phone away from my face.

My hands are shaking so bad that I drop it. After fumbling as I try to pick it up, I maintain a grasp on it. When I’m finally able to hold the phone to my ear, I plead with the caller, “What do you want? Just tell me.”

There’s no reply.

“Hello? Who is this? What do you want?”

There’s nothing coming from the other end. The call has disconnected, and I don’t know who or what this is even about. I begin to fall into a panic attack.

Stumbling to the balcony door for fresh air, I again drop the phone to the floor and frantically reach out for the door handle. I need fresh air right now. The moment the door opens, I fall clumsily onto the balcony and into a chair, gasping for air like my life depends on it.

Twenty minutes and a few glasses of wine later, I’ve regained my composure. I’m sitting on the balcony, looking out at Central Park, wondering if the unknown caller might have been right out in plain sight as he made the call.

My first instinct is to call Tyler. I wish I didn’t find such a sense of comfort and calm with his voice and touch, but the fact is that I do. I know that I also have to tell Lissa and Marie. They need to know. If anything does happen to me, they need the whole story, so they’ll have something to take to the authorities.

Finally, I’ve had just enough wine that I’ve worked up the nerve to call Tyler. I feel as though I’m moving in slow motion as I open my Contacts app, scroll down to Tyler’s name, and tap the phone icon next to his name.

Pressing the phone to my ear, I nearly change my mind and hang up the call. Instead, while the phone rings, I occupy my hands by picking up the bottle of wine, and I take a long drink right out of the bottle. That should help me through this conversation. A month has passed, and I know he will be sour with me about letting it end this way yet again. I don’t blame him. I’m no happier with myself than he is. And now, I’ve gotten myself into some mess that I have no idea how to deal with.

“Hello?” From the moment he speaks, Tyler’s voice has a soothing effect on me.

I’m sure I should say something witty, but I don’t. “Hi, Ty.”

After a short pause, he speaks, “Tru, how are you?”

To my surprise, I don’t sense aggravation in his voice at all.

I choose to lie to him. I don’t want to involve him in my mess any more now than I ever have. “I’m okay. How are you?” I’m still feeling out his mood toward me. I almost want him to be angry with me. I deserve it.

“Right this moment, I’m very good.” He seems sincere.

Right now, after the incident earlier today, I need Tyler. No, I don’t need him. For the first time ever, I want him. I just want him.

“I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve called,” I whine.

“No need to apologize. I’m just glad you did.”

“Um…” Now that I have him on the phone, I have no idea what to say. “How have you been?”

“Fine. Same old, same old really. You?” He seems as lost for words as I am.

“Nothing exciting to report. I’ve been busy.” I take a deep breath, and when he doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, I tell him the real reason I called, “Tyler, I miss you so much.”

He pauses for so long that I fear what might come out of his mouth.

“Well then…” In his tone, I can hear the smile that my admission of misery gives him. “I miss you, too, babe. A lot.”

I have the most wonderful ache deep in my soul from hearing him refer to me as babe. “You do?” I beg to hear it again.

“Of course I do. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m going to be fine,” I whisper.

“So, something is wrong then?”

“Huh?”

“You said you’re going to be fine. So, you’re not fine now?”

“No, I am fine. Everything is fine. Really.” I try to reassure him, but he’s not stupid.

He pauses for too long, and I know that he doesn’t believe me.

“Are you drinking?”

Again, I choose to lie. It’s only because the last time I called him, I was drinking. If he knows I am again, he’s going to think I’m a lush.

“No, I’m not drinking. I just really miss you.”

For a moment, we’re both silent. I think the wine hits me all at once because I have word vomit suddenly. Either that, or the fear of him not wanting me after all the games I’ve played drives me to spill out all the pent-up feelings I’ve been holding in for far too long. “Tyler, I want you to know that I don’t know what’s wrong with me or why I find it necessary to keep you at arm’s length. I hope you know how much you mean to me. I don’t want to live a life without you anymore, Ty. I mean, I know you don’t sit around waiting on me to call you. You’re probably seeing someone by now, but I’ll take you in any capacity I can have you, and if that’s as a friend, I’ll gladly take it. I just can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep running from something I’ve always wanted. I’m tired of it.” I face-palm and bite my lip, waiting for him to say something. When he doesn’t, I resort to begging. “Please say something, Tyler.”

“I’m a little surprised really. Truly, I meant what I said when I left you in New York. I meant it wholeheartedly. I do love you.”

I let out a deep breath and drop my head onto the back of the chair. All of the tension and stress that’s been building up over the past month seems to evaporate in an instant. I clearly remember what he said. He told me that he loved me. I’m pretty sure he just confirmed that he does love me.

What he did not say is that he still wants to be with me.

“Nothing has changed. I feel the same as I did when I left. I am, however, surprised that you’re telling me all of this. Truly, if something is going on with you, I’m here for you. If you share with me, maybe I can help you figure things out.”

“Why does something have to be wrong for me to tell you how I feel?”

“I don’t suppose anything
has
to be wrong, but generally, that’s the only time you step outside of your little world. You stay cozy in your comfort zone and let life happen. It seems to me that the only time you become the least bit vulnerable is when something happens to you that you have no control over. So, yeah, my first thought is that something has happened. I hope not, but I need you to let me in, all the way in, Truly.”

God, this man knows me like the back of his hand. It both pisses me off and makes me want to jump on a plane to Fallport and stay there with him forever.

For the next hour, we talk about everything and nothing.

And for the rest of that call, I let myself want him for no other reason than I deserve to be happy. I deserve to be happy. I do.

We end the call with plans to talk again later tonight.

Right now, I have to take care of another issue. I know that I have to tell Marie and Lissa about the phone call. I’m, of course, not sure that it has anything to do with work, but it does make sense after this issue with Rodney. Scott is not discreet enough to hide behind the phone. Not to mention, I don’t have any of his belongings. Since I broke things off with him, he’s been showing up where I am on occasion. Either way, I’m going to change my routine and see if I hear any more from my unknown caller. Hopefully, it was just a scare tactic, and it will end there.

I shoot out a text to the girls, asking them to meet me at the coffee shop just a block away from my house. Once they’ve both replied and we agree on a time that works for all three of us, I retrieve the Walther P22 from the shelf in my closet. I’ve had the tiny pistol for years, and very rarely do I carry it. I believe this incident has earned it a place in my purse for a while.

So, after I dress in running capris and a long-sleeved shirt, I tie my hair in a ponytail and pull a baseball cap down far enough that it will make it difficult for anyone to recognize me. I tuck the small handgun into my cross-body purse.

I look to my right and then to my left before I step a foot out of the safety of my apartment. Once I’m convinced that no one is waiting for me to leave, I step out into the hallway and pull the door closed behind me. As I walk quickly down the hallway, I become pissed off that whoever the unknown asshole is has me afraid. With my heart pounding nearly out of my chest by the time I reach the lobby, I have to stop and take a few deep breaths. My anxiety is through the roof.

Deep breaths, Truly. Come on, you’ve got this.

I talk myself down and then exit the building. I walk calmly down the sidewalk toward the café. With every man I pass, I find myself wondering if he is the man who was on the other end of the phone. If he is watching me, I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’s succeeded in scaring the shit out of me, so I hold my head high and fake a smile.

I’ve never been so happy as the moment I enter the café and see Lissa and Marie. I make a beeline for them, not bothering to stop at the counter and order my coffee first.

“What the hell is going on, Truly?” Marie looks me over from head to toe, taking in my distraught appearance.

I can barely get the words out as I collapse into the chair, “I got a call this morning. A man. He said he was watching me and that he would get what is his.”

Before we go into the details of the call, they both look at me, stone-faced. Marie slides her coffee across the table to me. I take a few sips and then proceed to tell the girls every terrible detail of the unnerving call. They listen intently, only taking their eyes off of me to exchange looks with one another.

Once I’ve finished, the three of us scan the café. Paranoia has set in, and I’ll bet it’s here to stay for a while.

Marie doesn’t waste a moment before she comes up with a short-term resolution. “Okay, so you are going to come stay with me and Thomas until we figure out what to do with this situation.”

“Marie, no. Just no. I’m not. And I really wish you would not even tell Thomas about this. He only needs one more reason to encourage you to leave us.”

She doesn’t argue because she knows it’s true. “You are not staying home alone, Truly. Figure something out, and do it quick.”

One thing about Marie, she doesn’t play when it comes to safety.

Before we went into this business endeavor, we worked as escorts. It was a terrible job, and we hated it. Every single minute of it. We were disgusted that married men would rather pay us to accompany them to their business engagements or spend dinner with us than take their wives or significant others. Sadly, the reason most often was that they had no idea how to court and romance their own wives. We were a sure thing. They didn’t have to impress us or try at all to be appealing. And trust me, they didn’t try at all.

One night, while on a date, Marie was attacked, and for several hours, the monster who had disguised himself as a wealthy businessman held her hostage in a motel room and alternated between beating her and raping her after she’d refused to have sex with him. We pushed the laws—there’s no lying about that—but we always stopped shy of intercourse. Marie nearly didn’t make it out alive.

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