Ramsey Security (Ramsey Security #1-3)(18)

"It's nothing about that. Or anything money can fix either. It's me. I'm not normal anymore."

Shelley sighs. "Darla, you were never normal."

"How do you figure?"

"You acted shy even though you weren't. You loved to read and study, but sucked at school. When we modeled at boat and car shows, you were the only girl who complained about smiling so much. Not the outfits covering almost nothing or the leering from old men. No, you didn't like pretending to be in a good mood. That was weird to me."

"Fine, I'm weird then."

"Don't sulk."

Crossing my arms, I do sulk a little. "I don't think I'm weird."

"Most people wouldn't think you're weird since it's not obvious stuff."

Sighing, I walk into the living room, glance around to make sure Minka isn't in earshot, and sit down on the couch. Shelley follows me with a look of bated excitement. I think she expects gossip, and I don't disappoint.

"I like Troy."

"He's the blond one, right?"

"Yes."

"I only met him briefly. The guy at our house is Cuban. He talks to the kids in Spanish. I feel left out."

"Learn Spanish then."

"You could learn with me."

Nodding, I imagine having goals again like learning a new language, finding a new hobby, and brushing my hair every day.

"Tell me about Troy," she says when I remain silent.

"He's beautiful and funny. He teases me but not in gross ways." I pause to check if Minka is coming down the hall. "He has a million unexplainable qualities that I'm obsessed with, even though they're all likely related to lust. Except I don't feel lust. I don't look at him and get aroused. I just like looking at him."

"No harm in looking."

"I think he might like me, but I can't figure out why."

"He's a man, and you're hot."

"I'm a mess."

"A hot mess."

Smiling, I lean against the back of the couch while taking Shelley's hand. "I want him to want me, but I can't do anything if he does want me."

"It's only been a short time. Give yourself a break."

"I was giving myself a break," I mutter, wanting to hide in bed under the covers. "Troy makes me impatient."

"He's one guy."

Frowning, I let go of her hand. Shelley shares my frown and retakes my hand.

"Don't give me that look," she scolds.

"I'm tense, and you're making me edgy."

"I'm trying to help."

"I know, but you're not."

"Clearly, you just want to bitch. So bitch away."

Closing my eyes, I see Troy watching me. I'm never sure what he's thinking, but I've always sucked at reading people. The first time I saw Locke after he removed the blindfold, I believed he might help me. I'm too easily fooled by a smile or soft glance.

Even after all those months under his thumb, I didn't know Locke any better than I did the first day. He was crazy and cruel. Otherwise, the monster remained a mystery.

Is Troy any easier to read? I want his gaze on me to mean something special. I hope his smile indicates he's a good man. His mood in the elevator might promise a desire beyond nailing the weak woman he's paid to protect. Everything I imagine could easily be the fantasies of a desperate mind and a broken heart.

Life was easy before Locke. After I ran from him, I stumble along waiting for him to claim and punish me. Troy offers me the perfect fantasy of an unbearably sexy man who will kill my tormentor and heal my soul.

Fantasy or not, I want to believe. I crave the lies even more than the darkness I'd embraced for weeks. Except without the darkness, I see the lies for what they truly are. Troy is just a man. I am just his client. Even if he somehow finds me attractive under all these sweats, his interest will last only as long as the job does. I can't be fixed, not by Troy or the therapist or a million tiny pills.

I refuse to be Rose, but I can't be the old Darla anymore either.





14


~~~

Darla

Reality Destroys My Sweet Lies

Shelley puts up with my bad mood for as long as she can before ditching me for her happy home. She's a good sister to make the effort. I often wonder if I'd be capable of her strength if the roles were reversed. Had Locke stolen her rather than me from the cruise, would I have raised her children for those months she went missing? Could I have supported Vern? Shelley remained strong while still living her life without me. I doubt I'd have handled myself with such dignity. I suspect my days would have involved much more crying and moping.

After Shelley leaves, I remain in the living room with Minka. She doesn't speak much. I sense she knows I'm in a bad mood and chooses to give me space. Minka's smart that way.

I take a sleeping pill around nine to ensure my bad mood doesn't last all night. Thirty minutes later, my eyes close and remain shut. Twice, I wake up to use the bathroom. Both times, I look into the living room to find Minka. She's alert enough to notice my quiet presence. Our gazes meet each time before I return to bed. Minka makes me feel safe but does nothing to improve my mood.

After returning to bed at four, I dream of Troy. Our naked bodies move easily together. My fingers explore his chest. His fingers explore mine. Everything is hot but not frenzied. I'm comfortable in the dream. Wanting more, I take more. His lips seek my flesh, so I give him my flesh. His cock doesn't steal from me but brings us both pleasure. Sex in the dream goes on and on, perfect the way it's never been in real life. Not with my only two lovers and certainly not with Locke's sick needs.