The Distraction Read online

  He tore off the T-shirt he’d been wearing, and shrugged into the thermal.

  “We have my place,” I said. “We have my job.”

  “And I’m supposed to let you take care of me, is that it?”

  Ouch. That one hurt.

  “We could take care of each other.” I moved toward him slowly, tentatively, but he stepped away.

  “For how long?” With a burst of fury, he knocked the bag off the bed, spilling my clothes across the floor. “Until you get hurt again? Until you realize I’m the trash your dad told you I am?” He stepped closer, bending down to look me in the eye. “Until some guy comes along with a steady paycheck, and a clean record, and convinces you you’re too goddamn beautiful to be hauling around dead weight?”

  I slapped him.

  I’d never slapped anyone in my life, not even in my one and only catfight.

  “Who’s doubting who?” The tears ran down my cheeks.

  He huffed out a breath. And as our gazes met, I silently begged him to take it back, to hold me so we could forget all of this and focus on the real problems at hand.

  But he didn’t. He took one step back, then another. And then he turned and left.

  Seventeen

  In our hurry to leave the apartment, Alec had thrown everything from the bathroom cabinet in the bag, including my sleeping pills.

  I took two. And even then I didn’t crash.

  The bed was big and plush and looked like it would have swallowed me whole, but I couldn’t make myself sleep in it. Not when Alec had touched another woman there. Instead, I pulled on a sweatshirt, laid on the couch, and fantasized about what Alec would do when he came back and realized I’d taken a cab to my apartment.

  I never went to my apartment, though. As much as I wanted to punish him, I didn’t want to do something stupid. If Alec trusted the security here, I believed him.

  But that didn’t mean I was comfortable.

  I tossed and turned, thinking about Mandy in all of Alec’s favorite sexual positions. I knew he’d been with other women, but I’d never had to put a face on any of them until now. When my imagination was exhausted, I replayed his words, over and over. He was going broke. He needed a job. He’d loved Force, and even if he hated flying, he’d loved working with jets. I wondered how he’d bought shares in the company; articles I’d read even recently made it clear that Maxim Stein had never opened the company up publicly. It must have been privately negotiated. Another chance to strengthen the illusion that Maxim was like a father to Alec. The whole thing was so unfair.

  It hurt that Alec doubted me after everything we’d been through. After I’d waited three months for him and would have waited a lot longer if I’d had to. I hated that he was lost and I hated that he was too proud to let me help him.

  When I finally fell asleep, I dreamed that he was missing, and though I looked everywhere, he was simply gone.

  I woke to the sun shining through a crack in the drapes. My head was muddled with a sleeping pill/crying jag hangover, and my eyes throbbed straight through to my skull. For a few minutes, I snuggled deeper into the blanket, nuzzling my face against the soft feather pillow.

  And then I realized I hadn’t brought a pillow, or a blanket, to the couch.

  I was in the bed—the one I very deliberately had avoided—and Alec was lying beside me on top of the covers in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. On his side, he faced the opposite wall, and for a moment I stared at the muscles in his back, at the tension that didn’t ease even when he was asleep.

  I didn’t remember him coming in or bringing me here. I certainly didn’t remember him undressing me. But all I was wearing was a pair of panties, and my sweatshirt was nowhere to be seen.

  For the first time ever, the sleeping pills had actually worked.

  My fingers itched to touch him, spoon up behind him with my knees tucked behind his and my arm over his chest. I could smell him—dark and musky—and my bare breasts began to tingle. I could have lowered my hands down his chest, and woken him with my hand sliding up and down his big cock.

  But Mandy had probably already done that here.

  Silently, I slipped from the bed and made my way to the bathroom. On the way I picked up the customary morning paper that the staff had left under the door and scanned the front page. The Sunshine Skyway Bridge was going to be closed in two weeks for painting and renovations. I wished they’d just knock the damn thing down after what happened there three months ago. The next story was about a manatee exhibit at the Lowry Park Zoo.

  The article at the bottom caught my eye. It was an update on the Maxim Stein trial, with side-by-side photos of his grim face and an aerial view of his barricaded estate on Davis Island. There was mention of Robert Calloway—or Bobby, as I knew him—pleading guilty to vehicular homicide and abduction. I was glad the reporters hadn’t attempted to contact me about either—they had more than once after his arrest—but it surprised me that the lawyers were holding back. Maybe they had enough evidence to hang him without me.

  Near the end was a quote from William MacAfee, Charlotte MacAfee’s brother, a man Alec had only briefly mentioned to me once.

  “Yes, I’m glad that Calloway is behind bars, but he didn’t act alone. I won’t rest until all those involved with my sister’s murder are brought to justice.”

  I shivered, wondering if he knew that Alec had been unintentionally tied to Charlotte’s death. If so, I doubted he would be pleased to learn of Alec’s release from prison, even if it was for the greater good.

  I quickly got ready for my shift at Rave, and after a short text exchange with Amy, came back to the bedroom, unable to leave without looking at him one more time.

  My chest ached as I watched him. He shouldn’t have brought me here, shouldn’t have flirted with Mandy right in front of my face. He shouldn’t have assumed that I wasn’t strong enough to love him. As much as I understood his motives I hated his actions.

  He was still facing the other way, and as I gazed down his back my eyes focused on the thin scar that ran across his lower back. He’d told me it was an accident in the metal shop at the jail. For some reason it hurt me to look at it, like I’d been the one cut, and I reached out gently to cover it with my hand.

  The next second found me flat on my back, staring up at him.

  “What . . .” He blinked his eyes, then released my shoulders he’d been holding like they were red-hot. I swallowed a trembling breath, hoping my heart would slide back down my throat.

  “Are you okay?”

  There were dark circles under his eyes, and scruff on his jaw. Maybe he was the one who needed the sleeping pills.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  He looked me over, and I couldn’t tell if he was disappointed I had clothes on, or still mad about last night. Either way he didn’t answer.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you,” I said.

  He squinted at the clock on the nightstand, which said it was close to nine a.m. “I need to wake up anyway. I’m scheduled for a double.”

  He moved away as if he hadn’t just nearly tackled me. I sat up slowly. He was more on edge than I thought—an observation that worried me greatly.

  “You’ve barely slept,” I said.

  He rubbed his eyes, elbows on his knees. Slowly, my pulse settled.

  “You could call in,” he answered. “Stay here.”

  “No thank you,” I said, ready to get away from this place. “I’m going to work.”

  He nodded slowly, glancing away. “I’ll take you.”

  “Amy’s going to pick me up.”

  For a while neither of us spoke, but the air was so thin between us I thought it might shatter.

  “Anna . . .”

  “I’ll be fine. I won’t be alone. I’ll go to the gym after work and then . . . I don’t know.”

  I didn’
t really want to come back here.

  He turned to face me, still seated on the bed. I didn’t want to play the poor injured girlfriend, and if we stuck around here much longer, I was going to.

  “Yeah, all right,” he said finally. “I’ll walk you downstairs.”

  I didn’t fight him, and twenty minutes later, when Amy pulled up in her mom-mobile, I kissed him on the cheek and made my escape. There were no apologies between us. No I love yous. It was worse than a good-bye after a one-night stand. I was just glad Mandy wasn’t in the lobby to witness it.

  “Fancy place.” Amy wiggled her eyebrows at me as I slid into the passenger seat. She looked pretty in her short, green A-line dress, and I was reminded of her day date today with the non-meathead she’d met at her apartment complex. “I brought coffee. I figured you’d probably need it after your all-night sexcapade.”

  I didn’t disagree with her, and instead took the coffee in both hands, hoping the warmth from the cup would stop the growing chill inside of me.

  Alec was still standing outside, waiting for us to leave. Amy rolled down the window and leaned over me.

  “Hey,” she said.

  He offered a polite smile, but his eyes stayed wary.

  “Lunch at my place Saturday. You can bring hamburger buns and prepare a speech about why I shouldn’t kick your ass.”

  “Amy . . .” I sank in my seat, staring at my coffee, and willed her to press the gas pedal.

  “It’s already prepared,” Alec said. “I rehearsed it every night in prison.”

  Amy took a moment to gauge if he was joking, and then snickered.

  “It better be good then.”

  He smirked. “See you Saturday.”

  As Amy pulled out of the drive, I watched Alec in the side mirror. The coffee didn’t warm the cold as I hoped it would; it just made me more aware of it. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen, and as the day continued, it just got worse.

  * * *

  My car magically appeared parked on the street right outside of Rave by the time my shift was up. My keys had been left at the front desk. I’d hoped for a note on the dashboard, anything to say that he’d missed me, but I was out of luck. Even the little aluminum license plate with my name on it was sitting in the coin tray, right where I’d left it. He felt further away now than he had when he’d been gone.

  I went to the gym straight from work and knocked out two sports massages before taking advantage of my own stress reduction. I wasn’t particularly in the mood for pole dancing, but I needed a mood fixer and Jayne had never let me down before. I was immediately glad I’d come; as I entered the room she was wearing a full police uniform, complete with a black cap and glitzy gold badge.

  The poles had been cleared to the back of the room, and judging from the looks on the other girls’ faces, I wasn’t the only one surprised by this.

  “Get inside before I lock you out!” Jayne yelled into the hallway as the last ladies hustled in. I set my gym bag on the floor by the door as she shut the door behind them.

  “Tonight, my little bitches, we’re going to learn something new.”

  “But I just nailed the upside-down pole splits,” said a woman who jovially complained about menopause and had clearly not done anything of the sort. We all laughed.

  “Can it, sweet cheeks,” ordered Jayne. “Or I’m going to spank you.” She removed a leather riding crop from the holster on her utility belt that should have held a nightstick and cracked it down on her own thigh.

  “Ooh!” The woman clapped her hands. Her friends giggled.

  “Lap dancing is an art,” said Jayne. “And before you start to boohoo about it, let me tell you how this is going to go. You’re all going to strip, and you’re all going to like it.”

  A few of the college girls cheered.

  “Okay,” said Jayne, stepping out of character for a moment. She picked at one of her overly long false eyelashes. “You don’t actually have to strip. The gym says I can’t make you and I don’t want to lose my gig here, blah blah blah.”

  She slapped the crop against her leg again, hardcore once again.

  “What’s the point of a striptease?” She pointed the crop at me. “Anna.”

  “Taking off your clothes?” I guessed.

  “Wasted potential.” She clicked her tongue as she shook her head. “It’s about control. The stripper has it. The stripee does not. The second you lose control the dance is over, and believe me, as much as they think they want to dive into the main course, they don’t. They want to be tortured. So what is your job?”

  “To torture?” I said.

  “Now she’s got it,” rasped Jayne. “Music!” she snapped. “Lights! Chair!”

  A couple of girls ran to do her bidding.

  For the next five minutes, Jayne danced in front of us, removing one article of clothing at a time until she was down to her sequined blue thong and tassels, riding a wooden chair like it was a bucking bronco. It was, quite frankly, one of the most inspiring moments of my life.

  For the rest of the hour we followed her lead, duplicating many of the same pole dancing moves on our designated chairs while we pretended to remove our clothes. Jayne passed by, occasionally shouting helpful hints like: “Eye contact: make him break first,” and “You touch him, he doesn’t touch you,” and my favorite, “A little humping goes a long way.”

  I worked that chair like it was Alec, and punished him accordingly. In my mind I made him pay for ever touching another woman. I made him forget all other women existed. By the end I was damp with sweat, chest heaving with each breath. My thighs burned from every bump and grind and I was horny as hell.

  “Some poor schmuck’s in trouble tonight,” said Jayne as she walked by. She’d replaced her blue zip-up police pants and white blouse, but it was still completely unbuttoned, giving a glimpse of her tassels every time she turned too quickly.

  The woman had incredible boobs. I could see why men paid her hundreds of dollars for lap dances, as she’d boasted earlier.

  “Yes,” I said. “He is.”

  “Boyfriends.” She rolled her eyes. “If you’re not stroking their cock, you’re stroking their ego.”

  I smirked as she sauntered away.

  “She’s not all wrong.” I turned, surprised to find Trevor leaning through the open doorway behind me. His shirt was soaked in a V down the center from what looked to have been a very grueling run.

  The class was over, and the ladies were starting to file out. One of the college girls whispered something to her friend as they passed, but Trevor seemed not to notice.

  “How’d it go with the kid?” he asked, reminding me that I’d cancelled my appointment with him to meet Jacob at the courthouse.

  I grabbed my gym bag off the floor and followed him out, the weight that had temporarily been on hold pressing down on my shoulders once again.

  “Not great,” I said. “Which has unfortunately been the theme of my day.” I didn’t really want to get into it, but it was easy to talk to Trevor. When he wasn’t around Alec anyway.

  Trevor glanced behind us as Jayne locked the door. She’d thrown on her uniform jacket, but still left the shirt underneath open down to her diamond-studded belly button.

  “Too bad,” he said absently. “I think I’d be doing pretty damn awesome if I just walked out of that room.”

  I chuckled. “The class was great.”

  But now all I could think of was finding Alec and laying on the torture until he begged me to finish him. Which I wouldn’t. Not until we set a few things straight.

  We’d walked down the stairs in silence, but as he opened the front door to lead us outside, I paused. The street was still fairly busy, and the parking lot had good visibility from the street. If I felt uncomfortable, I could always convince Trevor to walk me all the way to my car.<
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  “So how is Alec?” Trevor said his name slowly.

  “Fine,” I said quickly.

  “Are you guys going out tonight?”

  I glanced around. No Reznik. Not that he would have been following me anyway. Alec had made me paranoid.

  “He’s working,” I said.

  “The guy works a hell of a lot.” Trevor was scowling, and for some reason this annoyed me. Yes, Alec worked a lot. He had to because he needed the money and refused to rely on his devoted girlfriend for help.

  “I’m aware,” I snapped.

  Trevor stopped, and after a couple steps, I stopped, too. With a sigh, I turned around to face him. We were standing between two rows of cars, the sky purple from the cloud cover and the setting sun.

  “Are you sure things are all right with you two?” Trevor asked.

  “They’re fine.” I sighed. “I don’t know.”

  “Hey.” Trevor came closer and put his hands on my shoulders. His palms were warm, and as he started to gently rub, I felt some of the tension fall away. Soon his hands were trailing down my arms.

  “Are you staying at his apartment still?” Trevor asked. He knew I often walked there after my class at the gym.

  I laughed dryly.

  “Well that’s a really funny story,” I said, eyes burning with angry tears. “We actually stayed somewhere else last night, and I got to meet one of his skinny, perfect little ex-bed bunnies. It was basically the best night of my life.”

  “Where’d you stay?”

  I looked up at him. That was an odd question, considering what I’d just said. There was a strange look in his eyes. Almost like anger, but more tempered.

  “At a hotel,” I said. “Why?”

  Trevor’s grasp on my shoulders got a little harder. Almost painful.

  “Which hotel?”

  “Again,” I said warily, “why?”

  “Maybe I should pay him a little visit.”

  “Oh, no,” I said. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  His nostrils flared as he took another breath. “Just tell me where I can find him.”