No One to Trust - Iris Johansen [35]
“Not until you tell me what—” He stopped as he saw her expression and said roughly, “For God’s sake, get out of here.”
“I will.” She ran out of the room and up the stairs. She barely made it to the bathroom before she threw up. Stupid to be this feeble. After all she’d gone through, to have the sight of that blasted gym turn her into this quivering weakling. It was the shock. She hadn’t been in a gym in the last six years. She hadn’t realized all those memories would come flooding back to her.
The mat.
She felt the sweat break out on her forehead.
Jesus.
The mat.
6
Elena’s hand clenched the banister as she started down the stairs. The house was in darkness, but there was enough moonlight streaming in the windows for her to dimly make out the shape of the furniture in the living room.
And the hall leading to the gym.
She could do it.
One step at a time.
She reached the bottom of the staircase and paused for a moment, the muscles of her stomach twisting.
Don’t think. Just do it.
But she had to think, that was part of it. She couldn’t block it out or he’d win.
She moved slowly down the hall.
The mat.
She could see it in her mind.
And Chavez’s face above her.
No.
She leaned against the wall and breathed deep. Her heart was pounding hard, painfully. Get it over with. Just a few more steps and she’d reach the door.
She was there. She searched blindly for the knob and threw the door open. Go in. Look at it.
The mat.
She went forward and stood over it. It didn’t mean anything. It was only a piece of cloth and padding. It was nothing.
So she could leave. She didn’t have to stay here.
If it didn’t mean anything, why was she shaking as she’d done when she had malaria? Why were the tears running down her cheeks?
Run away. Forget it. She didn’t have to do this.
Yes, she did. If she ran away, he would win.
Stay until the pain went away. That’s all she needed to do.
She backed away until she felt the cold mirrored wall touch her body. She sank to the floor.
Look at it. Remember. He can’t hurt you unless you let him.
Dear God, she wished she could stop shaking.
“Come on,” Galen said roughly. “You’re getting out of here.”
She looked up to see him standing before her.
He held out his hand. “I don’t know what the hell you’re doing, but I’m not standing around and watching you.”
She shook her head and wrapped her arms more tightly around her body. Jesus, she was cold. “Go away.”
“You’ve been in here over an hour and I’m tired of being patient and understanding. I’m not going to wait any longer.”
“I don’t want … your … understanding. None of your business. Go away.”
“It’s my house and, as long as you’re here, you’re my business. I run the show, remember? Now, come on, we’re getting out of here.”
“Have … to stay … here.”
He gazed at her for a moment. “Shit.” He dropped down beside her and leaned against the mirror. “Okay, we both stay.”
She shook her head. “Alone. I have to do it alone.”
“Bullshit.” He tossed her his handkerchief. “Stop crying, okay?”
“I’m not—”
“Just shut up. I’ve had a rough night. I don’t know what’s happening to you, but I don’t like it. And I don’t like feeling like this. I want to go to bed and forget about you.”
“Do it.”
“I can’t. If I could, do you think I’d be sitting here in the dark in the middle of the night?”
“Go away.”
“I’m not going away. If this is something you have to do alone, it’s going to have to be another time. So stop communing with that damn mat and let’s go get a cup of coffee.”
“I’m not commun—” Anger surged through her. “You make me sound like a crazy woman.”
“Crazy? If you’ve got some weird fixation for mats, heaven forbid I object.”
“You don’t under—” She struggled to her feet. “What an asshole you are.” She moved toward the door. “Leave me alone, Galen.”
It wasn’t until she was out in the hall that a relief that made her go limp replaced the anger. She reached out blindly for the wall.
“Easy.” Galen’s arm was around her, supporting her, leading her toward the kitchen. “Don’t fight.