Trapped with Mr. Walker: Chapter 38
Trapped with Mr. Walker: A fake dating steamy romance (The Men Series – Interconnected Standalone Romances Book 6)
REED HOLDS THE DOOR open for me, and I use my crutches to maneuver into the hallway. The doctor said I should only need to use them for a day or two, and then just a thick dressing and taking it easy should be sufficient for my foot to heal. Luckily, the glass didnât cause any permanent damage. Itâs just sore if I put my weight on it.
I balance, using my crutch for support as I take in the space. Itâs exactly the same as when I left. Except now, Bruce has a new expensive looking shiny pot and is sitting proudly on the hall table with Beryl. She even looks pleased to see him. Her leaves are unfurled, open, and bursting with excitement.
Theyâre like two lovers, reunited after time apart. I tilt my head to one side and stare at them.
âHere.â Reed closes the door and steps around me, sinking to his knees in front of me.
I look down and smile. âYou hate these. You could have said they got lost when Suze moved my stuff back.â
âI donât hate them.â Reedâs brow furrows as he gently slides one pink fluffy slipper onto my injured foot and then takes my weight to help put the other on my good foot.
âYou said they leave bits everywhere.â
âI missed having your bits everywhere.â He rises to his feet, his eyes holding mine.
I stare back at him, my stomach sinking. The hospital kept us busy. Nurse Michael was true to his word and really was only a minute. I had the glass removed from my foot and wrapped in a bandage, and they gave me clean dressings to use for the next couple of days. They wanted to check Reedâs shoulder at the same time, but he refused to leave my side. When he finally agreed, I went with him. Luckily, he didnât do any permanent damage either. He has soft tissue bruising and was given some strong painkillers. But apart from that, heâs good.
Now itâs the two of us again. And all the reasons I had for staying away, all my guilt, the hopelessness⦠itâs all flooding back.
Nothing has changed.
I still let him down.
He still said he needed a fresh start.
âIt was never going to last forever, Angel.â
âI know I agreed to come back here, but after everything, are you sure you want me here? I mean, what are we even doing?â
âHarls.â He reaches out and cups my face between his large hands, his thumbs stroking my cheeks. âThis is where you belong. Why would you even question that?â
âBecauseâ¦â My chest burns as I look into his eyes. Iâm unable to look anywhere else. Not that Iâd want to. When Reed looks at me like this, nothing else exists.
âBecause?â he coaxes.
âBecause Maria heard you tell Griffin and Stuart that it canât ever be allowed to happen. That youâd rather die.â I gulp in air as Reedâs pupils dilate, pushing the golden flecks in them wide. âThe idea of that video getting out made you say that. Youââ
âYou think thatâs what I was talking about?â His expression folds into one of shock and concern, his thumbs pausing their gentle path over my skin. âI said that about you. The idea of someone using you. Hurting you. Trying to blackmail you. Anyone doing anything that makes your eyes look like they do now. Like youâve been told you just saw your last sunrise⦠Harley, I would rather die than allow that to happen to you again.â
âOh.â My heart beats out a low, melodic chant in my chest. âBut at Suzeâs, you said you had to let go, have a fresh start. That nothing lasts forever.â
Reedâs eyes shutter closed, and he rests his forehead against mine. âI did say that. Youâre right.â His voice is low and weary, exhaustion rolling off him in waves. âAnd I should have explained what I meant.â
I stand numb, unable to say anything else. Is this the part where we sit and have a big talk? Where we amicably part ways? But why would he insist I come back here after the hospital? Why would he kiss me in the back of the ambulance like he had finally found me after a lifetime of searching?
âThey canât blackmail you anymore. We can be together. You donât need to worry about it anymore.â He screws his face up, his body tensing. âItâs over.â
âNo.â Tears threaten my eyes as he opens his and they burn into mine. âThey could still tell people. They could still leak the video. Even if itâs safe with the police, it could all still come out.â
My chest tightens, images racing through my head. Reedâs video on the internet. Him seeing it. Everyone that he loves seeing it. Him never being able to leave it behind, always wondering when he meets someone, or walks down the street, if everyone he meets has seen him at his most vulnerable. Seen a part of his life that he doesnât remember all the details of himself.
How do you even begin to deal with something like that?
âI donât care,â he breathes out slowly, his entire body loosening as though saying the words alone is enough to make it all better.
âYou donâtââ
âI donât care, Harls,â he says again, lifting his lips to my forehead and pressing a kiss to my skin. âCome. Thereâs something you need to see.â
He helps me over to the sofa, lowering me down onto it, despite the fact it must make his shoulder throb painfully. He sits next to me and flicks the TV on.
âYou want to watch TV?â My mouth drops open as I turn to him. âI donât understand, I donâtââ
âJust watch.â He rests his hand on my thigh, his eyes on the screen. âYou wanted to know what I meant? Itâs easier if I show you.â
I turn back to the giant wall-hung flat screen as Reed brings up a recording and the intro music for Tom Coulterâs evening news and chat show comes on.
I sit mesmerized as Tom comes into view, sitting on a deep blue sofa, his hands clasped between his knees as he leans forward. His show that airs in the evening is made up of political and current affairs topics. There is no live studio audience. Itâs intimate and why I love his show. Itâs like watching a chat between friends.
âThis is what you were filming when I came to look for you.â I glance at Reed, and his lips lift into a calm smile.
âYes. It is.â
I turn back to the screen as Tom begins.
âI have a special guest with me tonight. Heâs an old friend of mine. Well, Iâm the old part in that sentence.â He chuckles, his silver hair gleaming as the camera zooms out, showing the rest of the set and the other blue sofa.
Even though I know heâs going to be there, I still emit a small gasp as Reedâs broad frame comes into view. His waves are perfectly swept back from his face, showing his striking eyes. And his perfect teeth are on show as he smiles at Tom and reaches over to shake his hand.
âThatâs your real smile,â I whisper to Reed out of the side of my mouth, my eyes glued to the easy familiarity he has on screen with Tom.
Reed doesnât say anything, but his fingers flex against my thigh and squeeze gently.
âThanks for having me, Tom,â TV Reed replies.
âNow, we had this interview planned from the moment you won the New York City Mayoral vote. Congratulations, by the way.â Tom laughs and Reed joins him.
âThank you.â
âButâ¦â Tomâs smile fades. âThe content of what we planned to discuss today has changed somewhat, hasnât it?â He looks to Reed, who runs a hand over his jaw, his eyes looking skyward.
âYes. I would say thatâs an accurate description.â Reed chuckles softly, leaning his elbows forward over his knees and opening his palms up between them. âThis was going to be about my plans for the city. And it still is. But first, I need to share with everybody why Iâm so grateful that you put your faith and trust in me. I think we become the people we are based largely on our experiences and our influences. And a lot of passions are created that way. Some people are born with a talent, but not many. Most of us donât discover our talent, our passion, and what drives us until it shows itself to us in our life. Some of us wait a long time for it. Some of us search. Some of us sit back and hope that it finds us. And sometimes itâs born out of good experiences. And sometimes itâs not.â
âThatâs really interesting. I love how you said that. Itâs different for everyone. And itâs not always an easy road to it. And youâre going to share with us what gave birth to your passion today, arenât you?â Tom leans back into the other sofa, his eyes softening at the corners as he waits for Reed to continue.
âI am.â Reed nods, rolling his lips and dropping his head to his chest before looking back at Tom.
âReedâ¦â My eyes stay fixed on the screen, at TV Reedâs brow, and the way itâs drawn together so tightly that bile rises in my throat.
âJust watch, Angel.â He squeezes my thigh again.
I place my hand over his and he turns it so our fingers can wrap together, gripping on to each other like two people stranded in the cold. Knowing that your best chance of survival is to stay together. That your lives depend so heavily on the otherâs survival.
âMy passion, and the reason I wanted to be mayor, was to help people. I want to instill trust and hope in people. To lead with honesty and integrity. And I want justice for people who are wronged by others. Truth is important to me. Whenever Iâve been asked a question, Iâve answered it honestly.â He shakes his head, pausing, as Tom waits patiently.
âBut I havenât been completely truthful in why those things mean a lot to me, just that they do. And recently, Iâve come to realize that my reasons for not being completely truthful werenât serving me anymore. In fact, they were hurting people. People I care a lot about. And I think sharing those reasons now is right. It feels right.â
Reedâs fingers stroke against mine, reminding me that he is here, right beside me. Keeping me warm. Sharing his body heat. Protecting me from whatâs coming.
âWhen I was twenty-one, I was sexually assaulted. I was drugged by a woman and taken to a hotel, which I have little recollection of. She did things that I donât remember. She had sex with me without my consent. I reported it. But she was never found. There was no evidence.â
I canât contain the gasp that falls from my lips, hearing it laid out like that, for the world to hear.
âI see,â Tom says, leaning forward and mirroring Reedâs posture. âAnd this is something you feel led to you wanting to help others to get justice?â
âYes,â Reed answers openly. âItâs why some of my main policies are based around improving personal safety and investing in the cityâs justice system. Iâve spent a lot of time looking at crime rates. I want cases to be stronger, to have the resources to investigate and go to trial. I want people to feel supported and never be reluctant about coming forward to report a crime. Crimes of all natures. But especially sexually motivated ones. For a long time, I felt like a part of me had been stolen that night. A part I never got back. And I made my peace with it. I thought that night was in the past. And I was happy to leave it there. But recently Iâve come to realize that I can do something better with it. It made me want to do better. Be better. It gave me the drive to want to run for mayor so that I can make changes that will benefit peopleâs lives. But thatâs no longer enough.â
âYouâve got plans for something, using your experience to guide you?â Tom asks.
âI do. I want to invest time in community building. I want more places people can go to for help without fear of being judged. Without feeling ostracized for the things that have happened to them, for their past. I want people to be supported. To feel supported. That was a dark time in my life, and without my family and friends, I might not have found my way out. I want to spread that message. You are in control of your own life. And there is always support there when you need it. For everyone, but especially men. We donât always forge relationships so easily. We can hide our feelings until they consume us. But we need society to be promoting positive attitudes to mental well-being and health. Itâs something Harry Ellston, the new commissioner for education, and I have been discussing. We want to bring it into schools. We have physical education and sports, and weâve come some way into the mental side of a healthy mindset. But we feel there is so much potential for more.â
The camera pans back as Reed and Tom continue to talk about the plans in more detail. His admission of his assault is already fading into the background as they discuss schools and what might be trialed for different age groups.
I turn to Reed, silent tears running down my cheeks. He looks back at me, his eyes glassy and wet.
âItâll help people, Harls. Thatâs partly why I did it.â
âPartly?â My voice betrays me, cracking at the end.
âMostly I did it for you. So you never had to worry about it again. Iâm not afraid of people knowing. Iâm not even afraid of them seeing that video. Do you know what I am afraid of? What scares the shit out of me?â
âWhat?â I whisper.
âThe helplessness I feel when I see you cry.â He reaches up and swipes my tears away with his thumb. âFeeling helpless. Being helpless. This was me taking back control. I never want you to cry because of my past. It canât hurt me anymore. As long as it doesnât hurt you, then it canât hurt me.â
âReed,â I sob, falling into his arms, making sure to bury my head into his good shoulder, and not the one thatâs bandaged up.
âNo one in this world can hurt us again like this. As long as we stay together. You should have come to me, Angel. We can face anything together. But you have to talk to me about it.â
His arms are warm around me, encasing me in a cocoon of hope. Heâs shared it with the world. Heâs changed it with one decision. Transformed it so itâs no longer a dark poison to be used as a weapon, but a seed from which new beginnings can grow. If he wasnât about to be mayor, maybe he wouldnât have done it. Maybe he would have kept living happily like he was. Because I truly believe he was happy. He never let it define who he was. But now he has the tools and position to use it in a different way.
Heâs chosen his next step.
One I never anticipated.
âI thought I was doing the right thing. You didnât want your past held against you. But I should never have assumed I knew how you felt. I should never have tried to make that decision for you. I thought I was helping. I knew you would do anything to protect me, and I wanted to do the same.â I sniff into his neck, inhaling his scent Iâve found so intoxicating right from the beginning.
Adventure and home.
âI understand. And I would have done whatever I could if it was the other way around. You didnât make a mistake, Harls. You thought you didnât have a choice.â His voice falters. âI never want you to feel you donât have a choice.â
I murmur into his neck. Telling him how strong he is, how heâs exactly what the city needs, what the people need, what I need. I hold him close, stroking the hair at the nape of his neck as I scatter kisses all over his skin and over his throat as it vibrates with his words.
âItâs the past. All I care about now is the present and the future.â He places his hands on my shoulders and guides me backward, so our faces are together, nose to nose. âNothing in this world is worse to me than seeing you cry. Remember that.â
I suck in a deep breath, tears pricking at my eyes again. But I refuse to let any more fall. Heâs right. Itâs time to look forward, not back.
âI love you,â I whisper against his lips.
His fingers freeze on my shoulders and the golden flecks in his eyes flash brighter than ever before as he looks at me with an intensity that stills every movement in my body until all thatâs left is the beating of my heart. A beating matched in his own and felt against my skin like the bass of the most beautiful song.
âI love you too, Harls. Iâve loved you for a long time.â
We fall silent for a few minutes, just content to listen to each otherâs breathing and feel each otherâs hearts beating.
âI was worried I was going to lose you forever. You and your pink fluff and deformed cat pajamas.â
âYou hate those pajamas.â
âI fucking love those pajamas.â A deep chuckle rumbles in his chest.
I laugh as Reed places his hands on my cheeks. âAnd the motivational plant talks, and your beaver mug.â
âItâs a sloth, not a beaver.â
Reed arches an eyebrow at me with a smirk.
âI would have missed your bad jokes.â I roll my eyes.
âI wouldnât have made any without you.â He falls serious again.
I stroke the back of his head, running my fingers through his hair. âNow what?â
He sighs contentedly, an easy smile spreading over his face. âNow we go to bed, Angel. Itâs been too many nights without you. I need you.â
âI need you too.â