The Dollhouse (12 page)

“All of the charges were thrown out. No probation, or anything.” My voice was flat.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “You don’t make that sound like good news.”

“Every deal with the devil starts with good news.” I reminded myself that we were in a public place, surrounded by people — some of whom had guns. There was nothing that he could do to me here. “I’m just worried about what you want in return.”

“Did you get my flowers?”

“Yes, and the necklace.”

His grin was cheeky. “You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t thank you. How did you get into my house anyway?”

“They gave me virtually no information about you at the Dollhouse, you know,” he said, clearly ignoring the question. “Broad strokes — first name and some general information — but nothing specific. The catering company was much more forthcoming, they even had your social security number.”

“Just because you’re rich, doesn’t mean you can’t also be a stalker.”

“I get what I want.” There was a warning in his voice.

I fought the urge to take a step back. “You can’t do anything to me here or I’ll scream. There are half a dozen cop cars outside. It doesn’t matter how much money you have, they’ll be on you in a second.”

“You’re perfectly safe. Here.” He took a step forward. “But I know where you live. I know where you work. I know who your friends are.”

I stayed where I was, determined to show him that I wasn’t afraid of him. “I’m not running.”

“Come with me.”

His fingers reached out to brush the skin of my cheek in a touch so light that I could barely feel it.

“I’m not a toy or a pet. You can’t buy me.” My voice was hoarse.

“But I have before,” he said softly.

“This is insane.” I didn’t know if I was talking to him or myself, because I hadn’t already walked away. “You can have anyone you want.”

“I want you.”

I swallowed hard. “And what about your wife?”

“She doesn’t have anything to do with this. It doesn’t matter.”

“You’re wrong.” I stepped back and his hand fell away. “It matters to me.”

“The situation isn’t what you think,” he said. “It’s complicated.”

“Then
un
complicate it for me. Make me understand.”

Julian didn’t speak for a long moment. “Come with me and I’ll tell you anything you want.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Or I could take you.” He advanced on me then, the expression in his hard, green eyes suddenly menacing. “You would just disappear from your bed one night, never to be heard from again.”

“Stop it.”

“You say you’re not a pet, but I do wonder what you’d look like on a leash.”

A sudden shiver overtook me and it wasn’t due to the cold. “You have to leave me alone.”

“Or what?” He appeared genuinely curious. “What could you possibly do to stop me?”

“Maybe I’ll go have a talk with your wife.” I pulled my cellphone out of my pocket. “She’s only an internet search away, after all. I know who you are too, Julian Berkmore-Hathaway.”

He grabbed me so suddenly that I didn’t have a chance to scream, or yell or try to fight him off. He pressed me back into the recessed corner of the alcove until we were hidden from view.

The palms of his hands pressed into my abdomen and forced me against the wall. Every logical part of my brain insisted that I scream for help or at least try to get away from him. But I was frozen in place.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” His casual tone belied the iron grip that he had on me. “Ever since that first night. You’re even in my dreams.”

My breath came in a harsh gasp when his hands slid up my sides. “Don’t—“

“I haven’t sent that tuxedo from the benefit to my dry cleaner. I can still smell you on it.”

“What do you want?” I hissed through my teeth, desperately trying to maintain my fragile grip on my sanity. “You want to do it right here against the wall? An indecent exposure charge will probably do wonders for Berkmore’s stock prices.”

“It’s you.” His hands slid under my shirt and the feel of his skin against mine rocked me to the core. “I can’t think when I’m around you. You make me want to do anything to have you.”

“This is crazy—“ I sucked air in sharply through my teeth as his fingers skimmed over my breast. “Stop, please.”

“I can’t.” His lips touched my neck, sending frissons of pleasure shooting through me. “And neither can you. You had your chance to walk away.”

“No—“

He kissed me, cutting off whatever words I was going to utter. His tongue clashed with mine, invading my mouth in a way that overwhelmed my senses and any ability I had to resist.

It felt like his hands were everywhere as they coasted over my body. I could feel the hard length of his erection pressing into me. I knew we were in public, so close to being discovered that to go any further would be worse than reckless.

His teeth caught at my lower lip. The pain of it rocketed through me.

“Enough!”

I shoved Julian away, obviously catching him by surprise. He let me push past him and out of the alcove.

“Leave me alone. I mean it.”

I felt his gaze on me as I nearly ran towards the door. I didn’t have to see his face to see the resolute expression that I knew would be there.

Julian wouldn’t let me go that easily.

T
he loud knocking
on my front door came nearly twenty minutes later than it was supposed to.

“You’re late,” I said as I opened the door.

Zach stood in the hallway with a sardonic smile on his face.

“Sorry,” he said unapologetically.

I grabbed my bag off of the side table before closing the apartment door behind me. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“Hey, you’re the one who called me, princess.”

“I did, didn’t I?” I said with fake confusion. “Not sure what I was thinking.”

He slid an arm around my back and I forced myself not to resist the advance.

“Moment of insanity.”

“Probably,” I murmured.

I knew exactly why I had called him. Because for all of us his faults, Zach was a normal guy with normal desires. He didn’t want to steal me out of my house in the middle of the night and tie me up somewhere where no one would ever find me.

Maybe he was just dangerous enough to still be safe.

I needed something to erase the seductive feel of Julian’s touch from my skin. I needed someone normal.

“I was really surprised to hear from you,” Zach said as we descended the stairs. “You didn’t seem all that happy with me the last time that I saw you.”

I shrugged. “I have a tendency to overreact.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

He smiled down at me. His face was open and relaxed, but balanced out by a trace of mischievousness.

“If you were actually a nice guy then you wouldn’t be agreeing with me.” I pushed open the door at the bottom of the stairs. It was supposed to require a keycode to get inside the building, but the lock had been broken for ages. “A nice guy would tell me I’m perfect just the way I am.”

He laughed. “Maybe my perfect girl overreacts, did you think about that?”

“Good point.” I stopped at the sidewalk. “Where did you park?”

Zach kept walking. “I don’t have a car.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You took transit all the way across town. That must have taken forever.”

“Got to admit it took longer than I thought.” His smile was a little bashful. “Your apartment is a bit more South side than downtown.”

“Not the posh digs you were expecting from the uppity college girl?” I asked, unable to resist the dig.

“Hey, I’ll own that,” he said apologetically. “You were blowing me off and I just reacted.”

“It’s cool.”

I pressed close to him as we entered the transit station. I usually tried to avoid the train and stick with taking buses. Something about being underground with the heat and steam unnerved me.

And I wasn’t especially fond of the constant smell of urine and body odor from all of the homeless people that slept down there at night.

I leaned against a support pillar and Zach moved up next to me.

“So let’s start over,” he said casually. “Tell me about yourself, not-college-girl.”

“There’s not a lot to tell,” I murmured.

“You still live with your parents?”

“Just my mom. My dad was killed by a drunk driver.”

“Oh,” he said, with that startled look on his face that people always get when you reveal a tragedy about someone they don’t know — the mix of sympathy and discomfort. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It was almost four years ago,” I said casually. “And my Mom got sick pretty soon after that, so she hasn’t really been able to work.”

“Your mom’s sick? With what?”

“Non-Hodgkins lymphoma that’s spread to her lungs. She’s doing better — just finished the last round of chemotherapy — but she still might need radiation treatment, depending on how much the tumors have shrunk when she goes back to the oncologist.”

“Jesus,” he whispered. “There’s no one else to help you out?”

“I have a sister and brother, she’s four and he’s sixteen, but I pretty much end up taking care of them, too.”

“Hence the second job.”

“Right.”

“Did you quit school to take care of your mom?”

“Pretty much. Even if they didn’t need the help, it just got too hard to concentrate. I was already starting to miss class and turn my assignments in late. It just made sense to withdraw.”

“Are you going to go back?”

“I always thought so, now I don’t know.”

A train pulled into the station, bringing a powerful rush of air and heat that blew my hair across my face. I had to hold down the cotton skirt I wore with both hands to keep it from flying up around my waist.

Zach held my arm as we boarded the nearest car. “That’s a lot to deal with. ”

“It could be worse.”

“Sounds like it could be a lot better too.”

“That’s life.” I shook off the feelings of despair that always threatened to wrap around me like a blanket made of ice and dread. “What about you? What’s your story?”

“Nothing that dramatic.” He settled in on the seat next to me, close enough that I fell into him when the train suddenly pulled out of the station. His arm slipped around my shoulders to steady me and then stayed. “I’m in a band.”

“I could have guessed,” I said with a small smile. Something about the way he carried himself said that he was used to being in front of a crowd. “What instrument do you play?”

“Bass guitar.”

“Aw,” I said, feigning disappointment. “You’re not the sexy frontman? That’s too bad.”

He dramatically clutched at his chest. “You’re breaking my heart, lady.”

“Something tells me your heart can take it.”

“That depends,” he said, voice sly. “Is dozen-roses-guy still in the picture?”

I shifted in the seat, suddenly uncomfortable. “What makes you think the roses were from a guy? Maybe my grandmother sent them.”

“Nice try. Nobodies grandma sends flowers like that.”

I thought about leaving him hanging, but I wasn’t the type of girl to tease. Julian was firmly in my past and I was determined for him to stay there. “There’s no guy, roses notwithstanding.”

“Music to my ears,” he said with a grin.

“So you cater, deliver flowers and you’re in a band,” I said, wanting to change the subject. “Anything else I need to know?”

“I work a lot of random jobs, but the band has really got most of my focus right now.”

“Hoping to make it big?”

He shook his head, looking a little embarrassed. “It sounds stupid when you say it like that.”

“No, it’s good to have a dream. You’ll never get what you can’t even imagine having.”

Zach reached up and gently tugged on one of my curls. “You’re a pretty cool girl.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

I felt more relaxed than I had in a long time. Being with Zach was easy. I didn’t have to constantly wonder what he was going to do or what he wanted from me.

Too easy,
said a treacherous little voice inside of me.

“Where are we headed?” I asked, to distract myself from the dangerous thoughts.

“It’s a surprise,” he said, waggling his eyebrows in a way that made me laugh. “But I think you’ll like it.”

Zach stood when the train pulled into the next station and he guided me up with him. The doors whooshed closed behind me just as I stepped onto the platform.

We exited the station and ended up on a busy street.

“This way.” He grabbed my hand and led me down the sidewalk. We naturally fell into step together as we walked.

We walked by a cute Asian bistro and an Italian restaurant but he passed them by without so much as a backward glance.

When he finally stopped it was at one of those take-out places that was basically just a grill counter open to the sidewalk. Three metal tables with chairs sat out front but were occupied. And the line was long, stretching around and past the side of the counter.

“You like polish sausage?”

“Here?” I asked a little incredulously. It wasn’t like I went out on a lot of dates, but even to me this seemed a little casual.

“Don’t judge a book by its cover,” he said, obviously enjoying my surprise. “This place has the best Chicago-style hot dogs in the city, and that’s saying something.”

We waited in line until the attendant handed Zach two foil-wrapped packages. By that point, one of the tables had cleared and we quickly claimed it.

He handed me one of the hot dogs. I carefully unwrapped it as the tantalizing aroma of savory sausage, spicy mustard and sweet relish rose up to meet my nostrils.

I took a bite and my eyes closed in bliss.

“This is
really
good,” I said through a full bite.

Zach paused with his hot dog halfway to his mouth and grinned at me. “You look really cute when you talk with your mouth full.”

“Shut up.” I took another bite and swallowed it before speaking again. “I like this. But I have to say, it’s not what I expected.”

“Oh, we’re not done yet,” he said, winking at me.

“I don’t know if I can handle anymore.” I tried for a serious expression but couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at the corner of my mouth. “It’s just so much excitement.”

“You’ll be fine. I think you’re tougher than you look.”

Despite the playful tone, the look in his eyes told me he meant what he said.

* * *

“
S
eriously
, an arcade?”

Zach turned to me with a satisfied smile. “One of the last ones in the city.”

“Clever name.”

The Place
was emblazoned on the outside in tall neon letters. It was a two-story brick building that sat on the corner of two streets. From the outside, the place looked like a nightclub. Bright lights flashed and jumped through the glass windows and I could hear the steady thump of bass from the music playing inside, even from across the street.

“My uncle owns it. It’s pretty cool actually,” Zach said when we got to the door. “There’s a full bar and they serve food until ten. On weekends they have live music. My band plays here sometimes.”

“When my mom asks about my hot date, I’ll make sure to tell her all about eating hot dogs and playing Space Invaders,” I said, my voice teasing.

“Don’t be ridiculous, we’re playing Galaga.”

I was still laughing when he pushed open the doors.

An hour later, I pushed back from the controls and turned on him. “You are cheating.”

“Never.” He looked over my shoulder at the dismal score that wasn’t even half of what he’d gotten on his last turn. “You’re just really bad at this.”

“If you were a gentleman you’d let me win,” I said with a pout.

“I was trying,” he laughed. “You’re just that bad.”

“Jerk.”

“Sorry.” He held up a little bag of quarters and shook it gently so I could hear them jingle. “Up for another round?”

“I think I’ve been embarrassed enough for one night.”

“If you say so.” He tucked the quarters into the pocket of his jeans. “You want me to take you home?”

I suppressed a frisson of disappointment. “If you want.”

“Or,” he said, voice carefully neutral. “I rent the room upstairs if you want to come up. Maybe have a drink.”

I knew it was reckless and driven by my need to forget. But I still didn’t want the night to end.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

* * *

Z
ach’s apartment
was mostly how I imagined it would be — messy and small, but full of character. It was little more than a studio but a little half wall divided the room. I assumed his bed was on the other side.

Band posters and unframed paintings covered the walls. One in particular drew my eye. It was a bunch of teddy bears engaged in full scale war, blood and stuffing flew through the air as the cute animals tore each other apart.

“One of my artist friends gave that to me,” Zach said as he came up behind me. “She does a lot of weird shit.”

“It’s certainly interesting.”

Zach laughed and moved past me to the fridge. “Want a beer?”

“Sure.”

He twisted the top off of a bottle before handing it to me. “Cheers.”

I took a healthy swig, wanting to settle my nerves. The couch on one side of the room seemed like a neutral spot, so I collapsed into it, already feeling a little heady from the one sip of beer.

“I don’t drink much,” I admitted when Zach came to sit next to me.