The Only Shark In The Sea (The Date Shark Series Book 3) (16 page)

Vance slept through her trips back and forth across the apartment to load the bedding into the washer and retrieve a new set. She was reaching out to smooth the replacement comforter across the bed when the bedroom door she’d left partway open slammed into the wall behind it.

Chapter 18

The Chance

Vance gaped at sight of his bedroom scoured cleaned of Stephanie’s influence and lost it. “What are you doing in here?”

Natalie cried out in shock and stumbled back against the bed. “I…I just, uh, cleaning up. Trying to…”

His eyes scanned the room, the room he had avoided so stringently, and felt a thousand knives twist into his gut. What had she done? She’d erased the reminders of his guilt and failures, like it was fine that he had let Stephanie die alone, like it didn’t matter! How could she do that to him? “Get out!”

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I was just trying to help.” Terrified and panicked, she bolted for the door. She was nearly past him when a wave of fury made him act. He grabbed her arm and yanked her back to him, a demand to know what she had been thinking taking away all of Stephanie’s belongings perched on his lips.

Before he could utter a word, Natalie’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, but she didn’t start hyperventilating. She was too terrified even for that. A strange choking sound shoved every vengeful thought straight out of his mind. She couldn’t hyperventilate because she couldn’t even get an ounce of air into her lungs. They had completely frozen up in her terror. Wild-eyed, she slapped at his arm with her free hand in full-out manic horror.

Vance was so shocked by her reaction that it took him a moment to comprehend what he had done and tear his hand off her arm. As soon as she was free, Natalie gasped in a massive, ragged breath and ran. Still stunned by the shock of the bedroom and her reaction, he didn’t follow right away. It wasn’t until he actually processed what he’d just put her through that he burst out of the apartment and sprinted down the stairs at a speed that was sure to end with a broken leg in order to try and intercept her.

He was fast, but she was already almost to her car when he blew through the main entrance and she saw him. Her shriek was filled with real terror, not just at being startled by his sudden appearance. That slowed him for just a moment like a bullet to the shoulder might slow someone down, but adrenaline took over and he ran for her. He got close enough to see the tears pouring down her cheeks as she practically dove into her car and peeled out of the parking lot a few seconds later.

Left standing on the curb, Vance’s knees failed him as he watched her disappear. What had he just done? He had called her that day because he’d promised to help her, because he
needed
and wanted to help her. It was the only thing capable of dragging him out of his alcohol-ruled life as a hermit. He cared about Natalie, and had worked so hard to build some level of trust with her, and he’d just ruined everything.

He didn’t fully understand what had caused her to fear human touch so much, but he’d promised to never hurt her. The look on her face when he grabbed her arm would never leave him. It wasn’t just fear. It went so far beyond that, he didn’t even know what to call it. He had caused it. He was the reason she was in tears, traumatized, and running again.

Desperate to fix his mistake, he dug up some reserve of energy he didn’t think existed and ran back up the stairs to his apartment in record time. He was still wearing his idiot getup of an old concert tee, ratty jeans, and deck shoes, but he didn’t stop to change. Keys in hand, he bolted back down the stairs and rushed out of the parking lot in search of his car. As out of it as he was when he’d arrived home from the funeral, there was no telling where he’d left it. He was eventually forced to repeatedly hit his lock button before spotting the flashing lights at the back of the lot.

Vance ran for the car and was out on the street a few minutes later trying to remember how to get back to Natalie’s building. He’d only been there once, the night of the drunken idiot banging on her door, but he pushed himself to recall the address. He managed to take only two wrong turns before spotting her building and sliding haphazardly into a parking space at the end of the block. Even though Vance knew Natalie wouldn’t go anywhere else but her apartment if she wanted to feel safe, he still scanned the area for her car. He spotted it at the other end of the block and sighed in relief, but felt his shoulders bunch up with tension as he approached the door and realized it had an exterior lock and code system.

There was no way for him to get in without Natalie coming down to unlock it for him or him getting the code from her, and he knew full well that was never going to happen. Not sure what to do, he kept walking toward the entrance, hoping he’d get lucky and catch someone on their way out. Vance and luck seemed not to be on speaking terms. The foyer was bare when he glanced through the window.

He was about to park himself on the stairs and attempt to think about what his next move should be when a balding, frumpy man started making his way down the stairs. Vance held off trying to get his attention, as that seemed like it would only make him look crazy. From the corner of his eye, he watched the man as he checked his mail—taking a rather long time at it—and approached the front door.

Vance thought maybe he’d just walk out and he could sneak in, but while the man did open the door, he didn’t walk out. Instead, he looked right at Vance and said, “You’re a friend of Natalie’s, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” Vance wondered how on earth this guy even knew her. It wasn’t like Natalie made an effort to get to know her neighbors.

“Thought I recognized you from the night that moron tried to break her door down.” He looked Vance over with a critical eye. He didn’t seem all that bothered by Vance’s strange attire, and instead commented on something else entirely. “She okay? Natalie, I mean. Came tearing up the stairs and nearly ran me over a few minutes ago. Looked like she’d been crying.”

Great
, Vance thought,
now he’s never going to let me in
. He couldn’t think of a lie that would make any sense, so Vance settled for a portion of the truth. “Yeah, we were over at my apartment and got into an argument. I tried to apologize, but she ran off too fast.”

Oddly, the guy laughed. “She’s a skittish one, that’s for sure.”

He shook his head, and Vance found himself more than a little disturbed that this guy acted so familiar with Natalie when he was positive she’d probably never said more than two words to the man. If he could ever get Natalie to talk to him again, he’d definitely ask her about this guy. “Sorry,” Vance said, “I don’t think I got your name. I’m Vance Sullivan.” He extended his hand and waited for the man to take it.

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then pulled the door open wider and took Vance’s hand. “Howard Campos.” His grip was stronger than Vance would have expected. “I don’t mean to pry, but what’s her story? Every time I pass by her she acts like I’m gonna attack her. I try to be friendly and all, but everyone seems to scare her no matter how nice people are.”

Vance had no desire to tell this man anything about Natalie, but he also wanted him to let him into the building. Hesitating for a moment, he gave him the barest of explanations. “I don’t know the whole story, but I know she had a rough childhood and had some bad experiences that made her wary of other people.”

“Like abuse?”

“I’m really not sure,” Vance said cautiously. Why was this guy so interested in Natalie? Done indulging him, Vance took a risk and asked, “Look, I know you’re probably not supposed to, but would you mind letting me in? I know Natalie most likely won’t see me right now, but I just wanted to at least try to talk to her and apologize for being such an ass earlier.”

Howard seemed to consider his request carefully, but eventually smiled and waved him in. “I’m sure whatever it was you did probably wasn’t as bad as she thinks. Just about anything will set that girl off. Go apologize. I’d hate to be the reason that poor girl lost a friend.”

Whoever Howard was, he was definitely on Vance’s watch list, but he thanked him all the same. He was turning around when the man spoke again. “Would you mind giving this to her? Or at least slipping it under her door if she doesn’t let you in? Mailman keeps mixing up our mail.”

Vance looked at the letter and took it with a nod. “Sure, no problem.”

The strange interaction over, Vance dashed up the stairs to Natalie’s apartment. His first instinct was to bang on the door and beg her to listen to him, but he was at least clearheaded enough to know what a terrible idea that would be. He was forced to settle for begging through the door.

“Natalie, I’m so sorry. I had no right to grab you like that. I know you were just trying to help me,” he said. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you, either. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

He knew the chances were slim that she heard him. More likely than not she was curled up on her bed trying to block the entire day from her memory. Vance knew he couldn’t blame her if she decided she never wanted to talk to him again. He didn’t know what that would do to him, especially in the state he was in, but it would be his own fault if she cut him out of her life.

“Natalie,” he said a little louder, “I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I hope you can hear me. You don’t have to say anything back. I just wanted you to know how sorry I am.”

No response.

He’d said what needed to be said, the basics anyway. Going into the details of everything that had happened while sitting in a public hallway didn’t seem like the best idea. There was so much more he needed to say to her, but not like that. Sliding down the wall, Vance put his head on his knees and wished he could take back the last hour.

He wished he could take back a lot more than that, but Natalie’s comment earlier that day echoed in his head. There were no takebacks in real life. He’d made a mistake that hurt her, a lot. Wishing he’d been less of an idiot wasn’t going to change the fact that he was sitting in the hallway of a woman who used to be his patient but was now his friend—or maybe not even that anymore—begging her to at least listen to him through a door.

Movement on the other side of the door snapped his head up, but the soft clicking and jingling of dog tags told him it wasn’t Natalie. “Hey there, Gypsy. Is Natalie all right?”

Several happy barks were followed up by a not-so-menacing growl.

“You’re mad at me too?” Vance sighed. “That’s okay. I deserve it. I wasn’t very nice to Natalie today.”

Gypsy growled again. Claws scratched against the wooden door several times before she barked again.

“Natalie was just being nice, and I got mad at her for it. It was stupid.
I
was stupid.”

A shadow appeared at the bottom of the door and sniffing noises followed the shadow as Gypsy tried to force her face through the crack at the bottom of the door.

“I wasn’t even that mad about her moving all of Stephanie’s stuff, not really,” Vance admitted. “I mean, I was shocked to see her ugly paintings gone from the walls and her favorite sheets and blankets stripped off the bed, but part of me was relieved too. I wasn’t ready to do it myself, but I couldn’t stand having all those reminders everywhere either. I was stuck, and Natalie somehow knew exactly what I needed.”

Gypsy’s tongue flicked back and forth beneath the door, trying to find him. Even though Vance really hated being licked by dogs, he moved his fingers over to where the little dog was unsuccessfully trying to find him and let her lick away. If she bit him, all the better. Maybe she’d punish him in Natalie’s place.

“The real reason I freaked out,” Vance said, his voice struggling not to break, “was because when I first woke up, the door was open and I saw someone by the bed and I…I thought it was Stephanie in the room. Not Natalie.” Betraying tears rolled down his face. He swiped them away quickly, but the hurt of that moment remained.

“I knew, logically, that it wasn’t her, but for a minute, I don’t know, I thought maybe somehow, some part of her, had come back. It’s stupid, I know, and I don’t even know if I was hoping she would condemn me or forgive me. I was just so desperate to see her, to say I was sorry for leaving her that night…when Natalie turned around and I realized it wasn’t Steph, that the chance to make up for letting her die alone was gone along with all of her clothes and shoes…I just kind of lost it.”

Gypsy whined behind the door and went back to licking Vance’s fingers.

“I know, Gypsy, it was stupid. I let my own pain lash out at Natalie and hurt the one person I don’t think I can get through this without.”

Vance’s head fell back against the door. Why did he feel that way about Natalie? He couldn’t even explain it. Maybe because she understood his pain better than anyone else. Maybe it was simpler than that. He didn’t know, and maybe he never would. All his schooling and training told him this was a mistake. Relationships built on traumatic experiences didn’t last, and expecting support from her could hurt her and hinder her progress. Vance knew all of this, but he needed her all the same. Being around her didn’t dull the pain, but she made him stronger somehow, like seeing everything she had been through and survived made him realize he could get through the pain and guilt he was drowning under too.