Up in Smoke - Tessa Bailey Page 0,11
broken through into a crawlspace she hadn’t known existed. As she’d sobbed and slipped her way to freedom, the noise had muted. She’d sworn to herself that no one would ever lock her up again. If they tried, she would get free every goddamn time, no matter what it took.
Night had fallen hours ago, but she still sat in the middle of her new bedroom floor. If she looked closely, she could still see Connor’s outline in the doorway, and she wished she hadn’t told him to leave. Safety. He made her think of safety, and she desperately needed to feel it right now. She didn’t do well in new places. Without any knowledge of the various means of egress, hollow spots in the wall, or who lived around her, she felt limited. If her window led to a viable escape route, she wouldn’t be in this state. But it didn’t. Neither bedroom had one, thanks to them being in the back of the building. She’d looked down into an alley surrounded by cinderblock walls and she’d seen a trap. A death trap.
It had shut her down cold, forcing her to tunnel into herself. But she had to get up and move at some point. Sitting here wouldn’t ease the thrashing of locust wings paralyzing her mind. Only finding a safe place would. Move. Move. Where would she go?
Erin rose unsteadily to her feet, stumbling against the bed frame when she found both of her legs asleep. Several minutes later when she could move without falling, she left the bedroom. She paused at the front door, once again attempting to examine this certainty that being around Connor might dull the harsher edges of the sound, the fear, but she couldn’t hear her thoughts over the roar. Tears burned behind her eyelids, but she told herself to grow a fucking pair and blinked them back. If she made any noise, she might wake up Polly, and no way could she explain herself. Especially to her new roommate, who so obviously had her shit together.
Only one option.
In a move of desperation, she opened the door and closed it quietly behind her. It only took her a few seconds to let herself into Connor’s apartment. As soon as she crept inside, the noise started to recede. She told herself it was the fire escape attached to the living room window and the view beyond that calmed her. The identical fire escape she’d seen extending from his bedroom window, as well. Not his cool, smooth scent that dotted the air. Like freshly sanded wood rubbed with pine needles. She told herself it was the view, the promise of freedom, but she inhaled through her nose like a resurfaced diver as she padded toward the window. She would just curl up here and be gone before Connor woke up in the morning. Easy peasy. The sound died down a little more.
“What are you doing, Erin?”
Roaring. Battering. Her hands flew to her ears to muffle the noise, but it didn’t work. She couldn’t draw a full breath. Connor stood in the dark, shirtless above black sweatpants, talking to her. None of his words broke through. She lurched toward the window and looked out onto the avenue running in front of the building, trying to breathe, but the guarantee of escape didn’t help this time. Connor’s heat at her back should have alarmed her. When the noise got this loud, the fear this great, it took her a long time to come back from it. Miraculously, though, his heat was absorbing it. Taking the weight off of her. Her body sagged back against his in relief, but she batted his arms away when they tried to close around her. Too much. Too soon.
“What do you need?”
His voice bathed her ear with a feeling so delicious, she felt it down to her toes, alleviating anxiety as it went. More…she needed more of him. In her own way. Even as Erin turned to face him, she had no idea what would happen until she saw his concerned face, his masculine lips hovering above hers. “You’re fighting it off,” she whispered. “I thought it was the window.”
“I don’t understand, sweetheart.” He looked frustrated, but not with her. More because he wanted to comprehend. His fingers touched the glass. “Don’t you have a window in your room, too?”
She shook her head. “It’s a mirage. There’s a trap set for me.”
Motherfucker. Why couldn’t she say what needed to be said? The words