And then there was Ky.
Confusing yet intriguing Ky Crawford.
I rushed down the sidewalk as quickly as my stupid high heels would allow. My mind kept replaying the feeling of Ky’s breath dancing on my lips and the weight of his hand, so delicately yet with so much ownership, on my waist as he pulled me into the firmness of his chest. It was so unexpected, so frightening, yet so exhilarating and that was what freaked me out.
I had said no to him.
I said the one word I promised myself I’d never say. What the hell had I been thinking? No meant consequences, it meant pain, it meant torment, it meant ramifications, and it was only a matter of time before they would be unleashed on me. Ky would be coming for me all because I said no.
The moment the cab pulled in front of the hotel, I realized I had a sea of people in the foyer to get through before I got to the sanctuary of my room. Thankfully my room was on the ground floor so I wasn’t confronted with the awkward elevator ride with strangers while I fell apart. I paid the cab driver, shot out of the cab and with my head down, I moved through the foyer, down the hall until my eyes finally locked onto the door that would lead me to safety.
It was only after I had locked and dead bolted the door behind me that I finally took in a shuddering breath. My exhausted body slid down the back of the polished wood door and fell into a heap on the floor as my safety of solitude arrived. A waterfall of tears slid over my cheeks as I drew my knees to my chest. This was my life. This was what I had been living with. It was those moments of intense panic that gripped me, the confusion and fight of my heart versus head and the constant battle of whether I would ever be able to have a normal relationship, with normal feelings, with normal reactions to a man. This was the reality that had been forced on me and the fear that adorned my every breath.
Fear was a devastating thing. It gripped you to the point of being completely incapacitated and swallowed every rational thought that was your given right. The most frightening part of fear was that it had the potential to completely destroy you if you let it.
I didn’t know how long I sat there. My body locked tight until I was frozen stiff and gasping for any air I could summon. Jeremy decided to appear behind my eyes and once again he showed me all that made me who I was today. Every time that nightmare appeared, I relived the pain, the agony, the brutal hurt he delivered to me. I tasted every single disgusting, whiskey-fueled kiss he planted on my mouth and my body ached as I felt every forced and excruciating entry he took without consent from my body. I slammed my eyes shut, praying for something, anything to take me away from this.
The familiar ring of an incoming call finally offered me my desired solace, ripping me away from my fear-ridden demise. I dropped my hands from around my knees and slid up from the floor to grab my bag that I had chucked on the bed. I fumbled around for my phone and pulled out the vibrating contraption. Ky’s name flashed on the screen. His action had brought me here, but now he was saving me from the nightmare of Jeremy. I looked at his name pulsating before me, and for a moment I questioned whether I should answer it. I slammed my fingertip down on the reject button and his name faded away from me.
I put my phone on silent and shoved it deep within the black hole of my bag. It was still early, barely midday, but all I wanted to do was forget. I was stumbling down the familiar path of self-destruction and the moment my eyes locked onto the mini bar my silent prayers were answered.
Vodka.
Vodka would solve all my problems. My greedy hands pried open the bar fridge and collected six bottles. I cradled them tightly against my chest like they were my prized possession and made my way across the room to the uninviting bed, collapsing onto the floral comforter with a sigh.
I threw my head back and the entire bottle of vodka disappeared. The burn of the spirit cascading down my throat finally made me feel somewhat normal, it made me feel alive, and in some crazy way it made me feel in control. This was why I had a dangerous and seductive relationship with vodka. It provided me everything that I needed and when my thoughts got too much, it allowed me to disappear. One bottle become two and two bottles became three before my head started to get foggy; my eyes started to shadow with drunkenness, and I felt the waves of unconsciousness fill me. My body molded into the uncomfortable mattress, still dressed in the black dress I had worn to the office, and the moment I was just about to fall into the pits of a vodka-induced coma, Ky popped into my head.
A single tear escaped my eye and trickled over my cheek as his beautifully handsome face and those captivating eyes swam through my thoughts. I was so confused. For a split second, when his deliciously plump lips moved close to mine, I had imagined what he would taste like, what it would have been like to completely hand myself over to him. I had forgotten who I was. He allowed me to forget everything that was hanging over me.
But I knew I couldn’t let him.
••••
Pound, pound, pound.
The moment my eyes pried open, my head began screaming bloody murder at me. Vodka had come out victorious yet again. The twisting knife in my head didn’t cease when I slowly sat up in bed and looked outside to see the sun slowly rising on the horizon.
“Eden, please open the door.”
Ky’s deep voice penetrated through the hotel door. I desperately looked around the room for an escape, but there was nowhere to run. I climbed cautiously out of bed, pulled the hem of the dress that had risen to my hips down over my thighs, and stumbled toward the door. I didn’t even need to look in the mirror to know that I looked like a tragic hung-over mess. With shaking hands I unlatched the chain lock and then unclicked the main lock.
I took a step away from the door, not opening it.
“It’s unlocked,” I said just loud enough to be heard. It took less than two seconds for the door to fly open and for Ky to rush in. He still wore the same outfit he was wearing the day before, and he looked like he hadn’t slept a wink.
I watched him closely. His eyes searched the room around us and the moment they landed on the empty bottles of vodka he sighed and ran his hands over his face. Great, not only did he think I was a crazy woman for fleeing, he now thought I was a drunk.
He took two steps toward me and I backed up, my hand feeling behind me for something to hold onto and my eyes dropping to the bright blue carpet on the floor below. My hand met the fabric of the chair in the corner, and I was trapped.
“Look at me.” His voice came out soothing, not one ounce of force behind it. “Eden, please.”
My eyes ran over his body as I lifted them from the floor and made their way to his face. Sadness, confusion, and wariness met me when I fell into his eyes.
“Why did you run?” he whispered in question.
“I said no. I didn’t want you to hurt me for saying no. I shouldn’t have said no.”
The color immediately drained from his face, and he took a step away from me. I watched him closely not knowing what to expect. His presence confused me, he intimidated me, yet he drastically captivated me. The thought of him hurting me left the moment he looked at me with eyes that were bristling with concern, like he was fearful and regretful.
“You thought I was going to hurt you?” His words were barely a whisper and he stared at me awaiting my answer. “Eden, answer me. Did you think I would hurt you?”