Shattered

•Ten•

Tom quickly turned back to me, rubbing the back of his neck. "You should go back inside. I shouldn't have come." He took a step backwards.

"Wait, no, I don't want to go in. I was on my way out anyway."

"Where are you headed? Do you want to go for a drive?" He looked back, watching down the street the direction the car took.

"Uh, sure." Anywhere was better than here. "I didn't even have plans, I was just going to walk, I guess."

Tom took my hand and quickly led me to the passenger side of his car which was parked in the driveway. After starting the engine, he carefully backed out and turned down the street.

As Tom drove, keeping his eyes on the road, I studied him. He had on a plain navy blue tee shirt and black cargo pants. The sleeves of his shirt hugged his biceps and my eyes trailed over the tattoos peeking out.

He glanced at me and smiled. "Want to see Sammy? I should probably show you where I live anyway, right? I mean if you agree to take care of him for me?"

I grinned politely and agreed.

The drive wasn't too long, roughly fifteen minutes. We enjoyed each other's company in comfortable silence. I paid attention to the way he took so I could commit it to memory.

I hadn't agreed to dog sit, but the idea was tempting. I wasn't sure how to bring it up to Jack. I'd need a ride. Running was possible considering the entire trip consisted of back roads. I could hit two birds with one stone; get my exercise in and hang with Sammy. But how could I justify running several times a day with Jack home? What if he still didn't want me running at all?

"Wow," I softly exclaimed as I stepped out of the car, taking in Tom's house. He held the car door open for me and closed it once I'd moved out of the way. "I love the porch! Oh and it has a swing!" I was envious, I'd always wanted a wrap around porch.

Tom held back a smile as best as he could but his eyes betrayed him. "Come in," he gestured me toward the front door.

Sammy was at the window, barking his head off. The second Tom opened the door, he came bounding towards us. His front paws flew up to Tom's chest and Tom scratched him behind the ears.

"Down, boy, behave."

Sammy flew back in the house and Tom followed. He held the door open for me and I stepped over the threshold.

A sense of familiarity washed over me and I knew I'd been here before. Tom had told me Sampson knew me. Maybe I've dog sat for him before. It made sense.

"So, uh, welcome." Tom guided me through the downstairs area real quick.

Nothing matched, each room contained an assortment of different styles, but it worked. The rooms were small and the wood panelling on the walls made them cozy. A small brick fireplace highlighted the living area and the couches looked inviting.

Sammy jumped up on one of them, his tail wagging.

"Sammy's happy to see you," Tom chuckled. "If you're interested in taking care of him, I can pay you."

I slowly walked around the room, looking over the wooden bookcases, skimming my finger along the spines of the well loved books living there. Past the bookcases was a large sliding glass door to the back yard. I noticed a few balls outside for Sammy but other than that, it was vacant aside from the thick woods beyond it.

"How long will you be gone?" I turned to him and watched him as he gave Sammy a kiss on the head. The sight made me smile.

"Two days, Saturday and Sunday."

I looked back out the glass door. I blinked hard, knowing what I saw wasn't real. I saw myself in the yard, tossing a ball for Sammy, laughing at the way he would bound after it and refuse to let go of it after returning the ball to me. I held completely still, watching the memory play out before me. Wrestling the ball from his drooling mouth, I threw it again.

I gasped lightly and closed my eyes. Upon opening them, the scene had vanished. But the memory was real. My breathing picked up pace and I felt Tom behind me. I turned and he looked down at me, trying to read me.

"Everything okay?"

"You said we were friends..."

"Yeah..."

I looked away and smiled at Sammy, his ears perked up, watching us. I crossed over the room and scratched his head. Glancing back up at Tom, I had a million questions for him but I wasn't sure where to begin.

"Christine, I know you better than you think I do. You want to say something, so say it." He crossed his arms and waited patiently.

I sat next to Sammy and hugged him before he jumped off the couch and ran out of the room. I heard him lapping up water in the kitchen. Tom didn't move, still waiting for me.

I sighed and placed my hands in my lap. "I remembered something, at home. Right before you showed up."

Tom's eyes lit up. The corner of his mouth turned up and he walked over, sitting next to me. "Yeah? A memory?"

"Not a nice one." I had a hard time looking directly at him. His knee touched mine and I felt a flip within my gut.

"Christine," he prodded me.

I turned my head to face him. "I'm scared, Tom," I barely whispered.

He sat forward and rested his arms on his knees, leaning toward me. "I can't imagine what you're feeling and experiencing, but whatever it is, you've got me. You can talk to me."

My breathing shuddered and I sighed deeply, trying to remain calm. "I don't think Jack was very nice to me. I found a hole in the wall. In our bedroom. And I remembered Jack shoving my head against the wall." I shook my head in disbelief, squeezing my eyes closed.

It couldn't be real. There had to be some other explanation. Maybe my brain saw the hole and my imagination went wild.

I opened my eyes and looked at Tom again, ready for him to calm me down, to assure me it wasn't possible. Tom's jaw was clenched and I hated it. Everything about his face was not the reaction I wanted.

"I'm sorry, Christine," he said. "To be honest, I had no idea if you'd ever remember and I was worried I'd make it worse if I forced those memories on you."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying you need to be careful. You didn't talk much about Jack, but I've seen the bruises. I know he hurts you, or he did." His voice was deeper and he balled his hands into fists as he spoke, his knuckles turning white. "You made it a rule. Whenever we were here, we'd never mention Jack."

"Bruises?" I shook my head in disbelief and stood. "I shouldn't have come here, this was a bad idea."

Tom jumped up and grabbed my wrist carefully, bringing me back, pulling me to him. I let myself be wrapped into his arms, burying my face into his shirt, my plans against his chest. I was shaking, overwhelmed by everything. I hated not knowing the truth.

"Don't leave like this, don't leave upset," he hugged me to him, tightly.

I relaxed against him, breathing in the scent of his shirt, the scent of him.

"I know I've been here before," I said softly.

"Yes, you have." I could hear his heart within his chest, the beat growing faster.

I closed my eyes and listened to the strumming. "Why do I feel so safe around you?"

Tom let out a small relieved chuckle. "Because you are."