Chapter 25
Ellen woke up mid-morning and tensed up at once, until she remembered where she was. She was alone in the bed. The light was washing over the bed from the floor-to-ceiling windows across from her, curtained only in sheer drapes. She was high off the ground, behind well-locked doors and concierges. She was safe.
She didn’t feel safe.
She wrapped her arms around her knees and hid her face, unable to stop the waves of fear rolling over her again, intensified by the dreams. She swore she could still smell the small one’s breath; feel the weight of the bigger one against her thigh as he pulled off his belt. This was how it had been after Edward, as well. Weeks and months of sudden flashbacks, icy dread filling her at any moment. Seeing men she’d been working with for years and not being able to look them in the eye. Trying to keep her distance from people in the crowded underground trains. It had all come back. She had never gotten away from it, and now she never would.
She took a shower, pulling off the bandages Kane had changed only a few hours ago so she could scrub every inch those men had touched, until she was bleeding again and had to spend another few minutes stemming the blood.
Finally, hunger drew her out into the living room. Kane and Carl were in the kitchen. The apartment smelled of fresh coffee. Kane’s hair was about as messy as she’d ever seen it, falling over one eye. He was dressed only in pajama pants, and the sight of all that skin, that she had come to know so well, made her want to weep. It had been such a nice dream.
Kane had been smiling, but he must have seen a change in her because he stopped and came quickly over to her. “Another nightmare?”
Oh God, he smelled good too. Like coffee and maple syrup. “No, no. I’m fine.” If wanting to bury her sore cheek in his chest and at the same time get on a plane counted as fine.
But Kane didn’t take her in his arms. He seemed to be keeping a calculated distance from her. “You want some coffee?”
She appreciated that he didn’t touch her. She wasn’t sure how she’d react to him. “Mm-hm. Are those pancakes?”
She sat next to Carl at the counter, feeling suddenly shy. Last night she’d wept on him, but she really didn’t know who he was. He had short, dark, curly hair, amber-brown skin, and dimples that showed when he smiled his good morning at her. She was grateful that at first he didn’t try and talk to her. Kane busied himself at the stove, handing over pancakes as soon as her plate looked empty.
When she’d started on her fourth pancake, Carl said, “You’ve been on the news.”
Ellen stopped mid-chew. “Well,” she said, bravely swallowing, “I figured someone would tell someone. Oh, crap!” She suddenly stood up, the scrape of the chair legs echoing in the large room. “I didn’t call the office!”
“I did,” Kane said, putting out a hand to slow her down. “Jon heard it on the news. He was trying to get a hold of you, but of course, he was calling your cell and your home number. You might want to call him when you’re done. Penny too, or she’ll remove parts of my body I’m pretty fond of.”
She dropped her knife and fork and called Jon right away. She had to reassure him five different ways that she wasn’t badly hurt.
“Well,” he said, “and not that there’s a bright side to this, but Claire Holland’s eating crow. She’s accepted that you’re going to be out for several days and has had to admit that maybe you’re not an attention-junkie after all.”
“Small mercies,” she agreed, but it didn’t make much difference. She’d tried doing things this new way, tried letting her emotions out a little more, and look what had happened.
Next, she had to call her parents, which she did from the bedroom, with the door closed and Kane outside it. She couldn’t bear to see the guilt on his face if he heard what she knew her mother was going to say. She pretended that Kane didn’t have Skype, because she didn’t want them to see the huge gauze pad on her cheek.
“Why can’t he download it?” demanded Charlotte. “We’ll wait five minutes.”
“It’s a work computer,” Ellen lied. “He’s not allowed.”
“I thought he was the owner—”
“Mum, can I just tell you this now? It’s on the news, and I don’t want anyone else telling you.”
“What is it now? Yet another photograph? What did you do?”
Ellen closed her eyes. How else could she say this? “I got mugged last night.”
“Oh! My God,” said Charlotte, which she hardly ever did.
“I’m fine though!”
Charlotte said, “Hold on, I’m getting your father on conference.” There was a pause while she reached Andrew at work.
“You see?” she said when she got back on the line, her voice shaking. Ellen could hear the other phone ringing in the background. “You see? You wouldn’t come home and now look what happened!”
“Darling,” said her father, and the crack in his voice brought tears to her eyes. “What happened? Frances said Mum said it was an emergency. Are you hurt?”
“No. Well, yes, but only superficially. Grazes. I was just coming home, walking from my car. Not paying attention.” Letting down her guard, as she’d sworn she’d never do again. That was the lesson Edward had taught her, that she’d forgotten to follow, that had left her vulnerable.
