Haynes, K. R. - The Light in Her Eyes [In Her Eyes] (Siren Publishing Classic) (20 page)

“Chloe?”

She shook her head at him. “I–I can’t,” she said achingly to him.

“What, precious? What can’t you do?”

“Him. The bastard.” Staring him in the eyes, she told Randall some of the horrible thoughts running through her mind. “I can’t let him touch me, Jon. I don’t want his hands touching me.”

Gently Randall brushed some fallen strands of hair back over her shoulder, causing her to shudder. He crouched down in front of her, cradling her face in one hand while grasping both her hands in the other. “I promise you, precious, the bastard won’t touch you. He won’t ever get close enough to do so. I won’t allow it to happen.”

Chloe knew what she was about to say to him would hurt him. The truth of her words also hurt her. “You can’t promise me that, Jon. You know you can’t. You can’t always be here to protect me.” She shifted her gaze away from Randall’s concerned one. “The bastard’s going to get me, I can feel it.”

“Damn it, Chloe, you can’t say shit like that. And you damn well don’t give up either, do you hear me? Not now, not ever.” Randall’s voice rose with fear from hearing the words Chloe believed to be so true.

“I’m not giving up, Jon. I just know my fate.”

“Damn you, Chloe. You cannot and will
not give up on me or on us so easily. You’re stronger than this and together we can beat this fucker. You have to find it within yourself to trust me to keep you safe.”

“I do trust you, Jon. My trust in you is not the issue here.”

Chloe could feel her heart breaking. She could barely get a breath out of her lungs they were so constricted with emotion. She needed space. Needed some distance, too. Rising from the sofa, she shook off the hands holding her to him and ran out of the lounge room.

Hearing Randall curse a blue streak at her retreating ass didn’t stop her from running down the hall to the bedroom they both shared. Closing and locking the door behind her, she then dashed into the adjoining bathroom. She closed herself inside the compact room by flicking the lock on the door. Collapsing to the floor and drawing her knees up to her chest, Chloe let go of the sobs and tears wanting out. Her whole body shook from the force of her cries. Somehow, someway, she needed to find the strength, the courage to fight against this bastard. But those thoughts, those horrible thoughts and the vivid pictures of what that bastard could do to her were too crude to speak out loud. Too vile to mention, let alone think of. What if she said what was in her head right now to Randall, only for them to come true? Oh god, she couldn’t think that way. She couldn’t allow herself to think that way either.

She had to be strong and believe in Randall to keep her safe. But Chloe knew she could never be safe until the bastard after her was either dead or behind bars where he belonged.

Her sobs came out even harsher hearing Randall pound on the bedroom door, demanding her to open it and let him in. She couldn’t. She couldn’t let him see her like this. Couldn’t let him see the defeat she felt to her very soul. Chloe loathed the idea that this creep stalking her made her feel this way. It repulsed her that he had this much control over her own thoughts.

How much more did the sick fuck want to control? He already tormented her thoughts, threatened her life and made her grieve for a life she would never have with Randall.

It made her damn mad, having to put two rooms between the man she loved and her own self. Chloe hated the distance she put between herself and Jon. She needed the breathing space though, even when every cell of her body cried out for him to hold her and tell her everything would be okay. That she would survive this, hell, they both would survive this.

However, right now she needed the distance, needed the space.

Inside she hurt too much from the fear of losing what really mattered most to her. Randall. The fear of losing her heart to the only person who meant the world to her had become too much for her to handle on her own. She didn’t need Randall’s sympathy or his concern right now. She just needed him. Her man, her Dom whom she loved more than life itself.

The sobs raking her body became agonisingly harder only because Randall would never know how much she loved him. Curling her body into a foetal position on the bathroom floor, Chloe tried to find a way to ease the ache inside her. The emptiness she felt ran deep into her soul.

She felt lifeless.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Jon stared at the closed bedroom door separating him from Chloe. Damn it to hell. She was shutting him out. He could hear her heart-wrenching sobs echoing from the bathroom, and if she thought putting two rooms between them would somehow stop him from hearing her, well she was dead wrong. With a clenched fist he hammered on the locked door again. “Damn it, Chloe, open the goddamn door.”

His patience was running out. He knew it. Just as he was about to pound the living crap out of the bedroom door again and demand she open it at once, Mick’s heavy hand gripped his arm, preventing him from moving it. Clenching and unclenching his fists, Randall turned to face his friend only to hear Mick caution him.

“Stop, mate. Let her be for now.”

“I can’t bloody well stop, mate,” Randall gritted out to him. “Not when she’s bawling her fucking eyes out in there.”

“You have to. Chloe needs some time and space to figure this shit out on her own. You saw the fear in her eyes, heard the fear in her scream. She’s running scared, Randall. What she needs from you right now is space, so she can figure this out. Then when she’s done she’ll come to you. Then you can spank her ass from not coming to you in the first place.”

Randall grunted at his mate’s last comment, knowing damn well Chloe’s ass would be his after he first listened to her. Cursing out loud, he turned away from the bedroom door and stalked into the kitchen. He needed a beer to drown out the pain coursing through him.

Shit, he couldn’t be drunk when Chloe finally came out of the bedroom seeking
his reassurance.

Switching the coffee machine on instead and grabbing a couple of cups from the shelf above him, Randall glanced over his shoulder at Mick.
“You want coffee?”

“Yeah, sure. Got any cookies to go with it, or has your sweet thing eaten them all?”

“Nuh, I think she might have left a couple in the jar. Damn, my woman has one hell of a sweet tooth on her.” Turning to face his old friend, Randall scrubbed a hand down his face, suddenly feeling more exhausted than he had before. “Do you know how many packs of those damn cookies we go through in a week?”

“Nope, but I could hazard a guess though,” Mick said with a laugh.

“Too many,” Randall muttered under his breath.
Handing Mick over his cup of coffee,
he said, “You know where to find the cookies, right?”

“Sure do, thanks.”

“Good. And for god’s sake don’t tell Chloe you ate some of her cookies if you want to keep your balls intact.”

Taking a seat at the breakfast bar, Mick stuffed a cookie in his gob while uttering, “So what’s our next step in catching this bastard?”

“Well, for one thing, Chloe doesn’t spend one minute by herself ever. That’s a given.” Mick just nodded his head at that. Chloe would hate it but too bad. “I also want her all phones tapped. Maybe we’ll strike it lucky and get a trace on where the calls are coming from. Even though the messages are never long enough it’s worth a shot.”

“I’ll make a few calls to make it happen for you, bro.”

“Thanks, Mick, I appreciate that. Also, I think you’re right.”

Mick raised an eyebrow at him then. “Really, mate, that coming from you must’ve been difficult to say.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get to used to it, fucker. This is the one and only time I’ll admit out loud you’re right.” Mick held his hands up in mock surrender. “It’s time for you to call that PI you know so damn well and see what he can find out for us. I want the details of this case to be on a need-to-know basis still though, Mick.”

“Don’t worry, bro, I’ll make sure it stays that way. I’ll make a few calls and see what can be arranged.”

“I also want the PI to check out some of the suspects the Bomb Squad has been investigating recently, too.”

“Why’s that?”

“Call it a hunch.”

“Well, I hope your hunch is wrong this time, because if you’re right, Randall, and this bastard stalking Chloe is going after the women linked to the Bomb Squad, we could have a big fucking problem on our hands.”

“I know, that’s why I want the PI to check it out. Do you want to stay for dinner? At the rate today is going it will probably be pizza.”

“Nuh, thanks for the offer but I think you and gorgeous need the space more than a third wheel tonight.” Clapping Randall on the back, Mick added, “I’ll skate on out of here and make those calls. I’ll be in touch as soon as I know anything.”

“No worries. Thanks again for coming over.”

“Don’t worry about it. I know you’d do the same for me if I was in your shoes.”

“Damn straight I would.” Walking his mate out, Randall stuck out his right hand for Mick to shake. “Thanks again, Mick.”

“No worries, mate. I’ll talk to you later. You take care of gorgeous in there. And go easy on her, mate. Remember she’s fragile. She’s a delicate little thing. She’s nothing like us tough asses.”

Randall nodded his in agreement. “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of her.”

“Never doubted for a minute you wouldn’t. Catch ya later, Randall.”

Chapter
Thirty

Being locked in the bathroom for hours on her own brought forth an exhaustion that weighed heavily on her shoulders. Her eyes were swollen from the amount of tears shed, and her throat was dry and sore from the sobs wrenched from what felt like the depths of her soul. Unsteadily rising to her feet, Chloe stumbled her way over to the shower and turned it on. Ditching her clothes, she stepped underneath the spray of warm water. She moaned in relief as the warmth of the water cascaded down her naked form.

Washing her hair and body thoroughly, Chloe realised she missed the feel of Randall’s hands in her hair and on her body. She missed the way his hands would worship her as he soaped her diligently. “What have I done?” she whispered quietly to herself. She knew the answer to that question. She had shut Randall out when she should have let him in.

With
a towel wrapped around her, Chloe padded quietly over to the bathroom door on bare feet. She half expected to find Randall standing behind the closed door when she flung it open. To her disappointment he wasn’t there. Stepping further into the bedroom, Chloe realised Randall wasn’t in there either. In fact the bedroom door was still locked.

Leaning an ear up against the painted wood, Chloe tried to hear if Randall was out there waiting for her to let him into the room they shared and loved each other in.

Flicking the lock and opening the door ever so quietly, she peeked out through the small opening to see if he was there. The hallway was empty. No one was there. Randall wasn’t waiting for her. The hallway had darkened from the day passing into night. A soft glow flickered from the archway leading into the lounge room.

She ditched the towel wrapped around her and pulled on one of his shirts. She managed to do up the buttons on the front of the shirt while making her way down the hall to where the light was coming from.

Standing at the threshold of the lounge room, Chloe
looked over to where Randall lay fast asleep on the sofa.
The TV was still on with the volume turned down low. An empty bottle of beer and a plate sat in the middle of the low end table in front of the sofa.
A lone tear trickled down her cheek as she moved toward him.

Randall. He meant everything to her. Yet somehow she had managed shut him out, when she should have let him in. She had disappointed him yet again with her own actions. All Randall had ever asked of her was her complete submission on every level. It was the one thing Chloe could give to him, and yet she had failed to do it on this very occasion when it had mattered most.

Sighing, Chloe knew then that she had made a few wrong choices today. She didn’t even have that many choices to make at the moment.
So when given a chance to make a choice what did she go and do with it? She stuffed it up royally, that’s what she did with it.

Dropping to her knees
in front of the sofa, she gently swept back the strands of dark-blond hair from his face. Leaning down, she brushed her lips lightly across his cheek.

“I’m sorry, Jon. I never meant to shut you out the way I did,” she murmured softly to him.