Cait squared her shoulders. He couldn’t possibly know she was here. She refused to huddle at home every evening. Between her thirty-hour-a-week job and work on her dissertation, her days were full.
Nobody else seemed even to be close to ready to leave, so she pushed open the door and went out.
She was parked just around the corner of the building. There were pools of darkness, but really the lot was well lit. Lights of a passing car on the street washed over her, momentarily blinding her and leaving her trying to blink away dancing spots.
Even so, she was still a good ten or fifteen feet from her car when she saw that a man leaned against the hatchback. She stopped, and he straightened at the sight of her.
“Hey,” Blake said, totally friendly. “I was passing and saw your car.”
He couldn’t have seen her car from the road. He’d either followed her or taken to prowling the parking lots of health clubs she might conceivably have joined.
Cait stayed where she was, wishing someone—anyone—else would come out. A couple of guys would be really good. Poised to run, she also eased her hand into her purse, groping for her phone and praying he couldn’t see what she was doing.
“I’ve asked you to leave me alone, Blake.” Thank God, her voice was calm and confident.
He took a step toward her. “I can’t even say hello?” He sounded offended, as if she’d been rude.
Bad moment to be hit with how really skewed his perspective was. He was not normal. Of course, she’d already known that, but…
Later.
Refusing to retreat, she lifted her chin. Her fingers touched a smooth, flat surface. Her phone, thank God. Now, could she dial without being able to see what she was doing?
“No,” she said. “I don’t even want you to say hello. I really don’t want you cornering me in dark parking lots.”
“I didn’t corner you—I waited for you!” Anger was making his voice more guttural. “How can I say I’m sorry if you won’t listen to me?”
“You’ve said it.”
“Yeah, and how many times do I have to? I’m sorry! Goddamn it, I’m sorry, okay?”
She licked dry lips. “Thank you for saying it. That’s better than not saying it. But no. It’s not okay.”
“You love me. I know you do.” He took a couple more steps toward her, his voice now low and persuasive. Warm, affectionate. “Jesus, Cait. I’ve gotten your message, loud and clear. I swear I won’t do anything like that again. Why won’t you believe me?”
“Maybe because you swore two other times that you wouldn’t hit me again? And, oh gee, you did?” Making a decision, she yanked her phone out and dialed 911 really fast.
“You knew you were pissing me off!” The guttural, furious note was back. He seemed oblivious to the phone.
In the yellow light of the overhead lamps, she saw that his hands had knotted into fists. The sight made her pulse rocket. She slid one foot back, then the other. Please, please, please, let somebody come outside. A car pull in.
If she said no often enough, he’d eventually have to believe her, wouldn’t he?
“I don’t love you anymore. You killed what I felt for you. You need to accept that.” Cait brandished the phone so he couldn’t miss it. “If you don’t leave right now, I’m calling the police. If I have to scream, a dozen people will come running out of the health club.”
His face was ugly, transformed by shock and rage. She was shaking, and she hated knowing he could make her so afraid.
I should run.
He’d be on her before she could round the corner of the building.
She was still frozen with indecision when he snarled an invective and turned to her small car, then kicked the bumper until the car rocked.
“You bitch!” he yelled, and used his booted foot to crumple the fender. As she watched in shock, he circled the car, kicking, smashing, doing to it what he wanted to do to her.
Backing away, gasping for breath, she tore her gaze from him long enough to look down at the phone. Just as she reached the corner of the building, she pressed Send.
At that very moment, he went still and stared at her across the distance separating them. His voice floated to her, quiet compared to the invectives. “I will never accept that you’re not mine.”