No Strings Attached

Chapter Twenty One

“Fuck! Look at this place Tor!” she threw her arms in the air as she rounded back, “It’s so fucking fairy tale that this house should be made out of Gingerbread! You haven’t got a fucking clue! What the fuck else am I supposed to do but run ... I feel like I taint this house with my mere fucking presence! You’ve got no idea what this feels like, Tor, not a fucking clue – so just stay out of my shit!”

Slamming the door behind her, she rushed past a stunned Nate in the hallway, and ran up to her bedroom with tears rolling from her lashes.

She was throwing everything into her suitcase hurriedly, with sobs racking her slim body, when Nate opened the door behind her. She’d always hated to cry in front of anybody, especially the tears of anger and frustration the likes of which she had now, so she was looking away from him, still intent on the task at hand – getting the hell out of the place. She felt the heat of his body through the thin material at her back, and his hands moved around her waist to pull her against him, but he made no effort to look into her eyes, instead simply kissing the crown of her head, and resting his chin atop it.

For a moment, he just held her, letting her reign in the tears, and a calm sense of safety fell over her – whether it was right or wrong to feel that way. She’d found a safe haven in his arms, and he was giving her a moment just to savour it. Eyes closed, she took deep breaths to calm the frantic tattoo of her agitated heartbeat.

“She didn’t mean it how it came out you know,” he said quietly, “She’s just worried about you.”

“I just,” she inhaled deeply, the tears slowing in the wake of his touch on her skin, and she rubbed her forehead in distress, trying to chase out the conflicted thoughts, “Don’t want to be here.”

“Come on then, we’ll go back to mine.” Releasing her with a soft kiss to her bare shoulder, he helped her to fold the last of her clothes into the huge suitcase, closing it shut, and carrying it from the room.

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“All of your houses look exactly the same,” she mused, looking around the lounge area of his spacious bungalow. She’d not really been in any frame of mind to register the fact before – but every one of his properties were decorated in exactly the same careless manner, with the same pallet of neutral colours, and even the same sofa, in each one. It was a little bit Twilight Zone.

He just shrugged, moving over to the kettle and pulling out two cups from the cupboard above him.

“I like my home comforts, I find something that’s comfortable and I like it – and I buy three. One for each place.”

“Nate, that’s bizarre!” she exclaimed, dropping into the familiar grey sofa – this particular one she’d never actually sat on before.

“Not really,” he sighed, bringing over a steaming cup of decaffeinated coffee for her, before sitting on the cushion next to her and looking around the room as if with new eyes, “It’s just somewhere to get my head down and sleep. I’m not here enough to care.”

How incredibly lonely he must be, she thought, watching his eyes as they scanned the walls idly, even more so than her by the sounds of it. At least she’d always had Tori to stay with, and her apartment had had character – even if it was as superficial as she had been then. Designer goods didn’t make a home – they made a very pretty space.

“You can decorate if you want to, I always kind of expected that you’d want to ...” he was saying, laying his arm across the back of the sofa behind her, “As long as you don’t put hot pink or animal print on my walls, we’ll be fine.”

“Nate,” she started, feeling as though she was walking along a tightrope thirty feet from the cold concrete – oh God, how would this go? “Don’t you think that maybe this is all a bit ... sudden?”

He tensed, cracking the knuckles of his hand behind her head agitatedly.

“Sudden? You think this is sudden? We had a child together Shan, we were supposed to be getting married ... and four and a half years later, we’re moving in together? You’re right ... we’re really speeding along!”

“I thought we were making a fresh start?” she murmured, “This feels like we’re picking up the pieces where we left them ...”

“We are picking up the pieces,” he insisted quietly, putting his mug on the floor next to his feet, “We can’t erase the past Shannon, and even if we could, I don’t want to. I’ve lived on those memories for too long – they’re ingrained in me! But we’re going to make it work this time. There’s no alternative. Look babe, I understand what you’re saying ... I’m putting pressure on you again, so just look at it this way; I am in love with you, and there’s a lot of shit about to go down with Tourniquet. I don’t think Sebastienne is going to quietly sit on the sidelines and wait for you to walk onto the pitch anymore ... he’s going to be looking for you. We hadn’t even realised he was thinking about any of this ... you won’t be hard to find. I need to be here, and so therefore so do you ... I don’t want you away from my side for more than a second, I’ll go frantic.”

“You’re scaring me a bit here, Nate,” she whispered hoarsely, pulling her knees up to her chest.

“I’m not intending to,” he moved his hand to her shoulder, crushing her to his side, “But I think we – you- need to be aware of this. As long as you’re here, he can’t touch a hair on your head.”

“What if I’m ... using you too much ... as a crutch, I mean, because you’re being so good to me ...”

“I’m being the man I should’ve been when you were seventeen babe, no more, no less. I love you ... that’s my only selfish motivation ... keeping you here so that I can keep you,” a chilling thought suddenly ran through him, “Unless you’re thinking that maybe ... you’re only feeling this because of all the shit that’s happening?”

She gave a brief, humourless laugh, dropping her head to her knees with a groan.

“I wish!”

“What?”

“I wish I could blame the rape, and Sebastienne, for all this head fuck of what I feel for you, but I can’t ... I don’t think it ever went away.”

He blew out a harsh sigh of relief, before crushing her to his chest.

“Then let me protect you, let me look after you ... deal with all the psychology bullshit later. For now, I need my woman next to me for every second of the day.”

She laughed softly, looking up at him from under a fall of dark hair, wondering when she’d be ready to trust that saying I love you did not make her more vulnerable to him ... either way if he left her now, she’d never make it through it.