Leave Me Breathless

‘What are you going to do?’ Ryan asks. ‘Run your whole life?’ He switches his hold, taking my jaw and holding it in his grasp, squeezing firmly. ‘Aren’t I enough to make you stay?’

‘Don’t.’ I look away, but he shakes me, silently ordering me to look him in the eye.

His jaw pulses, his frustration and anger palpable. And his hope. ‘Aren’t I?’

I close my eyes, feeling tears flow over and roll down my cheeks. ‘It’s not that simple.’

‘It’s very fucking simple from where I’m standing, Hannah. Am I enough?’

‘Yes!’ I yell, angered that he would believe otherwise. ‘Yes, you’re enough!’

‘Then fucking stay!’ he roars back, yanking his hand away from my jaw. He seems to take a breather, seems to think and calm himself. ‘I know everything.’

I step back on a sniffle, wiping at my nose with the back of my hand. ‘What?’

His eyes ping open, and I see a resolution and determination in them that I’m not sure I like. ‘I. Know. Everything.’ He doesn’t need to say any more. His gaze spells it out letter for letter, word for word.

I lose my breath, stepping back away from him. ‘How?’

‘Does it matter?’

‘Yes!’ Suddenly my reasoning – that I’m being paranoid, that I’m turning nothings into somethings – vanishes, and I look around us frantically. It prompts Ryan to do the same. There’s still just acres of empty fields.

He must understand my sudden alarm. ‘I work in protection,’ he reminds me. ‘I have contacts.’

‘You had someone pry?’ I ask.

‘If I hadn’t, would you have just left me in the fucking dark for ever? Let me love a woman who isn’t who she says she is?’

‘The woman you love is the woman I am!’ I scream. ‘That’s the fucking point, Ryan! I’m not her anymore. I’m not a punching bag anymore. I’m not a trophy or an alibi.’ My voice quivers with so much emotion, I’m sure I could crumble under the weight of it at any moment. ‘That’s the fucking point,’ I sob, pointing at him. ‘You love me.’ My hand lands on my chest, my shoulders jumping as I cry uncontrollably.

I know it enrages him to see me like this. It must tear his heart out, hearing my fear and my reason. And that’s another fucking point. I know him well enough to know that it could push him over the edge of sanity. Could have him tracking down Jarrad and stabbing him in both eyes so he’s physically unable to search for me.

‘Hey!’ The taxi driver leans out of the window, his face impatient. ‘Am I staying or going?’

‘Going,’ Ryan grates, pulling my duffel bag from the backseat and throwing a twenty to the driver. He slings it over his shoulder and slams the door, and the taxi pulls away.

When I look back at Ryan, he’s regarding me closely. ‘Why did you run today?’ he asks. ‘I need to know, Hannah. No more secrets.’

I take a breath, but I don’t hold back telling him. Not now. ‘I saw a truck at the fete.’ I shake my head to myself, knowing, now I’m calmer and stable, that it was just an overreaction on my part. ‘It was a Mitsubishi. It was there, then it wasn’t, then it was again. It was odd. I remembered you said it was a Mitsubishi that ran you off the road and my imagination ran away with me. Then he flashed his lights and I freaked out.’

He closes his eyes, and I hate that it’s an obvious attempt to gather patience. He thinks I’m overreacting, too.

‘I’ll have it looked into,’ he says, and I can’t help but think he’s trying to pacify me. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing, but for peace of mind, I’ll check it out.’

‘There’s something else,’ I go on, needing him to hear the rest so maybe he might empathize and understand why I went off the deep end.

Ryan’s instantly alert again. ‘What?’

‘The guy who’s bought some of my paintings. He sent me flowers,’ I say quietly, and Ryan’s jaw immediately tics. It’s not worry. It’s anger. Annoyance. ‘And a picture of them hanging in his castle.’

He swallows hard, nostrils flaring. ‘Right,’ he pretty much growls. ‘And that freaked you out, too?’

‘With the truck, the flowers . . .’ I shake my head again, realising how unreasonable it sounds, but I reacted and I wasn’t able to stop it. And I hate that.

Ryan drops my bag with a sigh and comes to me, hauling me forward with force, pinning me to his front. ‘I promise you, he can’t touch you, Hannah. He can’t find you. He can’t hurt you.’ He kisses my hair and pulls me free, making sure I can see the purpose and sincerity in his eyes. ‘I. Promise. You.’ He wipes under each eye with the pad of his thumbs. ‘Please, don’t run again. You don’t have to anymore, because you have me.’ His palms frame my face. ‘Let me love you.’