Translucent (28 page)

“Slow and steady,” I repeat his words to him when he tries to argue, and after several assertive kisses, he agrees.

“Okay, but you spend the weekend at my house,” he concedes with another passionate kiss, “and check in with me regularly…and promise you’ll call me immediately if you have any episodes. I’m going to worry about you.”

I climb out of the car before we end up stripping each other in the parking lot of my apartment complex. “I promise and I’ll be fine, but I’ll check in as often as you’d like.”

“Oh, and next Sunday afternoon, my parents are having a small birthday thing for me. They can’t wait to meet you,” he says casually.

I freeze mid-movement. “What did you just say?” I ask. “Your parents want to meet me? I’m not sure—”

“Blake,” he warns, lifting his brow, “it will be fine. It’ll just be a few close family friends, delicious food, and a good time, and yes, they want to meet you. They’re very nice, if not over-the-top at times, but they will love you just like I do.
Please trust me
.”

The emphasis he places on the last three words pulls the right strings in my heart, and I nod hesitantly. “Okay, I’ll go, but you have to promise if I start to have an anxiety attack you’ll get me out of there. I don’t want your parents to see me like that.”

“I promise you, sweet girl. Now get your cute ass inside before it starts to rain,” he says glancing out the window at the looming gray clouds. “I’ll see you Friday night.”

“See you then,” I call out over my shoulder. I scurry inside as large raindrops begin to fall from the sky, wondering if he really just said what I thought he did. Shaking my head, I chalk his words up to a figure of speech, not actually meaning he
loves
me, loves me.
Yeah, that’s it.

My apartment is exactly as I left over a week ago, sans the vomit on my bedroom floor, which I need to thank him for cleaning up…but something feels different about it. It no longer feels like the enclosed space I’ve been confined in for the past few months, the place where I physically stayed, but refused to
live
in. Instead, I now view it as an opportunity…a fresh start…a representation of my freedom from the life that once held me prisoner. The healing wounds on my ribcage remind me I’m still a long way from escaping the haunting memories, but maybe, just maybe, I can learn to truly live again. I have no control over whether or not Vincent Ricci ever stops looking for me, or if he finds me, but I do hold the power to make the best of my time until that day comes, if ever. I’m only as free as I allow myself to be.

Free to work at a job I enjoy.

Free to make friends.

Free to go out in public.

Free to give myself to Madden.

I spend the better part of the morning doing laundry and tidying up a bit, trying not to think about Madden, but it’s nearly impossible with as much time as we’ve spent together recently. I love the way his gorgeous azure eyes light up when he sees me, how the right side of his mouth curls higher than the left when he flashes me his panty-melting smile, and the inherent way my body responds to his deep voice. Both his words and actions make me feel safe, secure, and adored.
Natural.
Being with him just feels natural.

By late afternoon, all the rain has passed and all my chores are complete, despite being interrupted numerous times by Madden’s flirtatious text messages. My stomach grumbles loudly, reminding me I haven’t eaten since breakfast, and since Sarah’s been shoveling food down my throat every chance she gets, my appetite has grown substantially. I meander over to the refrigerator to grab a quick bite, but am overwhelmingly disappointed with its contents—damn near nothing. Sliding my feet into some flip-flops, I grab my purse, phone, and keys and make my way to the grocery store, an outing I used to fret over for hours, but not today.

Over an hour later, I’m driving home with a trunk full of plastic bags, having purchased more food in one shopping trip than I have in the last year-and-a-half combined. I’m not quite sure how in the world I’m ever going to eat this much stuff, but I was having so much fun I couldn’t stop throwing things in the basket. Maybe I’ll pull up some recipes online and cook for Madden soon.

As I unload the plethora of groceries from my car to my apartment, I realize the downside of having an upstairs unit. Seven trips back and forth to the parking lot is how many it takes to get everything from the trunk to my kitchen table. Exhausted from the two miles I’ve walked in the muggy afternoon heat, I plop down on one of the dining room chairs and stare at the bags like they’re going to unpack and put themselves away. Laughing aloud to myself, I make a mental note to not get quite this enthusiastic on my next outing.

It takes a while to rearrange my pantry and freezer, making sure everything is in its proper place, and when I’m almost finished, Madden messages that something’s come up at the office, and it appears he’s going to work later than he initially thought. Feeling even guiltier than before, I know this is because of me keeping him out of work, so riding my courageous wave, I decide to put my plan of cooking for him into action immediately. Even though it was my adamancy about not seeing each other again until Friday, I’m sure he’ll appreciate me delivering a freshly-cooked dinner to his office.

One of my favorite things to cook is King Ranch chicken casserole; plus, it travels well, so I get right down to business. Once the rectangular, glass dish is in the oven baking, I take a quick shower to freshen up, apply a little bit of makeup, and throw on a long black sundress. When the timer alerts me the casserole is ready, I retrieve it from the oven and place it in a box to prevent it from burning my hands or the seat in my car, along with some plates and silverware. Excited to deliver my surprise, I hurry down the stairs and make my trek to Glendale. Having only been there once before with Mr. Thompson and Jae, I pull up the address of his office on my phone to be sure I remember where it is and which floor.

Thankfully, neither the doors to the building nor the elevators are locked when I arrive, and before long, I’m entering the offices of Decker Enterprises. Being the late hour, the receptionist is already gone for the day, and I don’t see anyone else around to ask where Madden’s office is. Unsure of what to do exactly, I quietly begin to walk around, looking for another person or some sign of where he may be. Hearing some voices down one of the halls, I hesitantly stride towards them, hoping I don’t startle anyone.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” I call out meekly, announcing my presence, instead of just walking in on someone.

The voices are coming from behind a partially-closed door with no indication of whose office it is. Knocking lightly, I call out again. “Hello? Is someone here? I need some help.”

I hear a vaguely familiar female voice mutter, “Oh shit. Who the fuck is that?” Followed by a grumble of a male voice, and a rustle and bustle of I don’t know what. Clothes? Papers? I’m afraid to open the door, so I stand there and wait, hoping whoever’s in there will come out. A couple of minutes later, Emerson gradually opens the door and peeks her head out. Her red-tinted curls are a disheveled mess, as is her flushed face, and she’s breathing harder than normal. It’s rather obvious what I’ve just interrupted.

“Oh, it’s you,” she snarls at me, crossing her arms across her chest. “What are you doing here?”

Her overt rudeness completely catches me off-guard. “I’m…um, I’m looking for Madden’s office. I brought him dinner,” I explain, glancing down at the box I’m holding in my arms.

“Oh, well isn’t that sweet?” The sarcasm rolls thickly off her words.

“Who is it, Em? What’s going on?” the other
very
recognizable deep voice asks.

My heart plummets into the pit of my stomach. Hot tears prick the backs of my eyes. My mouth waters as bile builds in the back of my throat.

A large hand grabs the door and swings it open, revealing a half-dressed Easton standing behind her. He smiles brightly when he sees me. “Oh, hey, it’s just you,” he says, brushing past Emerson in the doorway. Giving me a modified hug around the bulky container I’m holding, he asks, “What are you doing over here?”

I exhale a giant sigh of relief, finding my voice again. “I’m bringing Madden dinner since he had to work late, but I got lost trying to find his office,” I explain with a shy smile.

He chuckles and walks further into the hall. “Stay right there, Emerson, I’ll be back after I take Blake to Madden.”

I don’t turn around to watch her stomp back into the room they were in; I fall into step next to Easton, allowing him to lead me to where I want to be. He doesn’t bother knocking or with a verbal alert to announce we’re there; instead, he barges right in.

Madden’s back is to us as he types furiously at a computer on his back desk, and he doesn’t look up when the door opens either. I guess he’s used to people walking right in.

“Big brother, I brought you a present,” Easton boasts as if it was his idea I’m there.

“I’m not too fond of your recent presents, Easton,” the older Decker brother retorts with a huff.

“I promise this one you’re gonna love.”
There’s that damn word again
.

“I’m trying to work here so I can go home and eat,” Madden barks as he spins around to face us. The second he sees me, his entire expression changes—his eyes grow wide and sparkle with surprise as a grin spreads across his face.

“Blake! What are you doing here?” he exclaims as he stands up and rushes over to me.

Easton takes the box from my arms a second before Madden lifts me off the ground in a warm, welcoming embrace. Beaming inside, I cloak my arms around him and squeeze tightly. “I cooked you dinner and brought it to you, but I got lost trying to find your office, so Easton helped me.”

He kisses me hard, his lips pressing firmly against mine as our tongues collide in a swirling dual. Instinctively, my legs wrap around his waist, and he begins to walk me towards his desk. “Easton, set the box down anywhere,” he instructs without removing his mouth from mine, “and thank you.”

The door clicks closed behind us as he sits me on his desk atop whatever random papers are strewn across it. I didn’t have any intentions of sexually enticing him when I first set out on this adventure—my only purpose was to bring him dinner—but after feeling the momentary devastating panic and dread when I thought it was Madden in the room with Emerson, the overwhelming need to claim what is mine controls my actions. Reaching out, I splay my palm on top of his trouser-concealed cock and begin to rub him up and down.

Dinner can wait.

Jae practically assaults me when I walk in the door to our shared office on Wednesday morning. She fires questions at me so fast, I can’t keep up. She wants to know everything—and I mean
everything
—about Madden and my relationship. I do my best to answer everything without revealing anything about my past, and keep some of the intimate things he and I’ve shared to myself.

Once I pacify her curious, overactive mind with answers, she spends the remainder of the day getting me caught up with everything she’s done while I was gone. Because Decker Enterprises is the one controlling the contract, and Madden knows I was out, our initial deadline has been pushed back; however, I want to do everything in my power to still meet it. We work pretty much nonstop on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday until we reach the point where we’re back on track with our schedule. To celebrate the three days of grinding it out, as well as to thank her for busting ass while I was out, I accept Jae’s invitation for a happy hour drink at Tony’s before I go to Madden’s for the weekend. I’m anxious to see him, since we’ve only talked on the phone and texted since I left his office Tuesday night; I even brought my bag of clothes to the office with me so I wouldn’t have to stop off at my apartment on the way, but I’ve got time for one cider.

As I make my typical scan of the room, I recognize a few faces inside Tony’s from the couple of times we’ve been there before, and as always, the atmosphere is casual and inviting. Jae and I grab a table against the wall, and the waitress gets us a drink quickly. We talk a little about a new guy in the office Jae has set her sights on as we enjoy the refreshing beverage, and I express my concern about meeting Madden’s parents on Sunday. After we both reassure each other and then laugh about it, we pay our tab and get up to leave. Greg and his friends walk in at the same time, so we stop to say hello and chit-chat for a few minutes before she and I head outside to our cars.

As I’m unlocking my car, I hear the voices of a couple a few spaces down. At first, I think they are making out against the car, but I quickly realize they’re arguing, as he’s screaming curse words and demeaning names at her. I know I shouldn’t look at them, but for some reason, I can’t help myself. Turning around ever so slowly, trying not draw attention to myself, they come into my line of sight, and I gasp when I see her very round, very pregnant belly. Then I hear him yell, “That’s probably not even my kid, you fucking whore! I should’ve made you get rid of it!”

My vision begins to tunnel as my entire body tremors. Sliding down the side of my car, my body jolts when my ass hits the concrete, but not enough to shake me from the looming memory flooding my mind.