I puff air into my cheeks as I try to calm her down. I pull her close to me and kiss her temple.
“H-here I am over here falling in love with you, and… and all you care about is being in control and winning,” she stammers.
I still instantly. What the fuck did she just say?
My eyes find hers, and she screws her face up, making more tears fall, her disappointed and embarrassment clear from having just let that slip.
“You’re falling in love with me?” I ask in a whisper with raised brows.
She stares at me but doesn’t answer.
I begin to hear my heartbeat ringing in my ears as the panic sets in. I have this overwhelming urge to run.
“I can’t be in love with someone who has that temper, Brock,” she whispers.
My eyes search hers.
“You need to man up and be the man I need, or you need to step away.”
“Step away? What does that mean?”
“I want a man to love, not a little boy who tantrums, lashes out, and hits people when he doesn’t get his own way.”
My heart sinks.
“You said you wanted to do this relationship thing, Brock.”
I step back from her, a sense of fear sweeping over me like never before.
“Do you still want me?” she whispers.
“You know I do.”
“So, at what age are you going to grow up?”
I frown.
“Are you going to stop this alpha-hole bullshit, man up and love me, or do you want to keep on fighting the world alone?”
“Alpha- hole isn’t a word,” I say, trying to change the subject.
“Yes, it is. It’s code for Brock Marx.”
I smirk.
“Brock.” She puts her arms around me and looks up at tenderly. “I don’t want the bad-tempered boy who fights the whole world for the rest of his life.”
I swallow the lump in my throat as I stare down at her.
“I want the gentle man who I know can love me.” She kisses me softly and her arms slide around my hips as she tries to convince me to change.
“I don’t do gentle, Tully.”
“Yes, you do, Brock.” Her lips meet mine, and her tongue slides through my mouth. “I know you will because you care about me, too.”
“Can we just stop talking about all of this love stuff, please?”
“No.” She quickly pulls from my grip. “You want to be in a relationship with me, don’t you?”
I hold my hands up in defeat, sensing that a complete meltdown is on the horizon.
“Then we are talking about it. Don’t ask me to hold myself back from you because my feelings scare you,” she snaps. “Don’t you dare ever ask me to do that!”
Fuck. I drag my hand down my face. This is all a bit fucking dramatic, isn’t it?
I stare at her and she slowly takes my hands in hers. “I care about you, Brock.” She pauses for a moment. “In fact, I’m falling in love with you, and I’m not telling you that so you have to say it back or anything lame like that. I’m telling you this because you need to know that this is something special for me. This isn’t just fucking around like I know you’re used to. And I thought it was special for you, too.”
I look at her blankly, but her hopeful face eventually makes me smirk.
“But you’re just being a big jerk,” she adds.
“Ease up, hey? I’m beginning to think you’re the one with anger issues here, not me.”
“Brock,” she whispers, leaning up to kiss me. “I want us to work.”
I stare down at her.
“Let go of the anger and jump… with me.” She smiles hopefully.
My hands tighten on her behind. “I don’t jump with twat waffles,” I whisper against her lips.
She giggles and puts her hands in my hair. “You’re doing it, even if I have to push you off the cliff.”
I smile against her kiss. “I kind of thought that was what was happening here.
Tully
It’s Sunday night, and Brock is taking me to meet his family. Apparently, his sister, Natasha, and her family are going home to L. A. tomorrow, and he wants me to meet them before they leave.
After our fight yesterday, and after I opened up to him and put my heart on a platter, I feel closer to him than ever. We spent the afternoon in bed making love. He was gentle and tender, and although he never once mentioned how he felt about me, he showed me in other ways. Last night we went walking and got Thai takeaway in our tracksuits. I don’t feel like I have to dress up or wear makeup with him. I’m totally at ease. He makes me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world when I’m at my absolute worst. We stayed up late and watched movies at his house, and then this morning we even went for a run together.
There wasn’t a trace of the violent man I saw at the club on Friday night, and with every hour that passes by, I feel the horror fading a little more.
Brock is a beautiful man, and if I want a future with him I know I have to be patient while he softens to my ways a little.
It’s 6:00 p. m. now. He dropped me home a couple of hours ago so I could pack for our trip tomorrow.
Hawaii.
I’m excited to be getting him all to myself for a week-only the two of us, just how I like it.
I need to say goodbye to Meredith and give her a key to water my plants. I haven’t seen her as much as I normally do this last week and I’m feeling a little guilty about it.
I knock on her door.
I wait but there’s no answer.
I knock again. Still no answer. Hmm. She mustn’t be home. I turn to walk back up the hallway when I hear her keychain unlock and her door open.
“Tully,” she whispers as she peers through the crack in the door.
“Hi.” I smile.
“Shh.” She puts her finger to her mouth. “Shh.”
I frown as she pulls me by the hand into her apartment and closes the door behind us, flicking all of the locks.
“What are you doing?” I frown.
She peers through the peephole. “He’s coming back. You need to be quiet.”
“Huh?” I whisper. “Who’s coming back.”
“Black jacket, black jacket.”
I stare at her. “What are you talking about?”
“I didn’t see anything.” She begins to pace. “I didn’t see anything.” She shakes her head, puts her hands over her ears, and begins slapping herself on the head. “Know nothing, know nothing,” she repeats over and over.
“I frown as I watch her. “Meredith, are you feeling all right?” Jeez, I think she’s having some kind of psychotic episode. I don’t know what to do. “Have you taken your medication today?” I ask.
She starts hitting herself on the head again. “Know nothing, know nothing.” She is pacing back and forth and can’t stand still.
“Meredith, how about I take you over to your mother’s house?” I’ve gotten to know her mother and she’s not as bad as I first thought. She handles Meredith a lot better than Callie and I do, anyway, especially in circumstances like this.
Her eyes widen. “Yes.” She runs into her bedroom and begins ripping her drawers open quickly. “Black jacket, black jacket,” she repeats over and over.
“Yes, bring your black jacket.” I say, jeez…. what’s going on with her?
I don’t think I should tell her I’m going away while she’s like this. I don’t want her to have a meltdown.
She runs to the bathroom and picks up her whole toiletries’ basket. She runs out and tips it upside down into her suitcase. Things go flying everywhere, and then she runs back into her bedroom.
“What did you eat today, babe?” I ask carefully. “Did you have any blue food colouring?”
She runs out and looks at me, her eyes wild and wide as if she’s having a sudden epiphany. “Yes. Blue Lemonade.”
I wince. “Blue Lemonade? That doesn’t sound good.” I walk to the fridge. “How much did you drink?” I ask.
“Four litres.”
“Four litres,” I repeat as I pull the two two-litre empty bottles out from the inside shelves of the fridge door. “What the heck?” I shake my head. “Don’t drink this crap, Meredith. It will make you feel bad.”
She nods. “Yes. I feel bad, very bad. I need to go to the hospital now.”
“What?” Oh hell. I need to get her to her mother’s as fast as I can. “It’s okay, sweetie, grab your things and we will go over to your mother’s.”
“Yes.” She runs from the room. “Mother’s, then the hospital.”
“Maybe you should stay with your mum for a little while,” I call.
She runs back out and stares at me through widened eyes. “Yes. Good idea.” She nods. “Know nothing, know nothing.” She runs back into the bedroom, and I follow her, noticing how all of her furniture has been pushed to the door. “Why did you move the furniture, honey?” I ask.
She begins to shake her head as if really frantic about something.
“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Shit, should I call an ambulance or something? “Give me your suitcase and we’ll leave now,” I say calmly.
“He’s coming back,” she whispers, clearly petrified.
“Who’s coming back?”
“Black jacket.”
What the fuck is she talking about? I lead her out into the corridor by the hand, down into the elevator, and she looks so scared that it breaks my heart.
“Baby, it’s okay.” I put my arm around her shoulders to try and comfort her. We get into my car and she looks around frantically. It’s as if she scared of something she can’t see.