Ten Days of Perfect (November Blue #1)

When his hands wrapped around my calves they slid a little under the sweatiness of his palms. He tried to stop their shaking by tightening his grip around me as he buried his face in my bloodied knees.

“Bowan when I met you. . .” My soul shifted; my heart pulsed with fresh blood. “Never mind, it was all a lie; I was just a pawn in some high-society bullshit blackmail.”

“No! November, no!” His fingers dug deeper in to my legs.

I bent at the knees slightly, forcing him to look at me through tears and blood. When our eyes locked I took a deep breath, aiming for clarity.

“Trust, Bo. All that keeps two people together is trust. Love isn’t enough. I don’t trust you. I don’t want to see you ever again. Get out.” My throat locked and threw away its own key against the words.

Bo reached up and pulled me to my knees by the wrist, causing Adrian to rush to my side.

“Ember, please. Calm down. We can work this out, come on!” His plea wretched through my soul, and for a split-second I wanted to concede, but couldn’t. I had been purposefully put in danger, lied to, and deceived.

I couldn’t meet his eyes. I remained on my knees, begging the floor to swallow me.

Adrian lifted me from the other side, “Everyone needs to sleep on this, I think,” he said with remarkable poise. After I was on my feet, Bo tried one more time to convince me to talk.

“Ember, can we just take a walk, or something?”

Adrian put his hand up, “Dude, tomorrow, OK? Everyone needs to sleep off tonight.”

Crestfallen, Bo followed Adrian out of the room, looking at me one more time over his shoulder before the door closed.





Chapter Twenty-Four

The water in the shower at The Centennial burned my skin. It was liquid therapy. I let the water boil over the raw skin on my face, elbows, and knees; inviting it to boil through my soul to no avail. I heard the door to the room click open and closed.

“Ember, it’s Adrian - you OK in there?” The sincerity of his voice produced fresh tears that washed away with the shower.

“Yea, I’ll be out in a minute. Thank you.”

Turning off the shower produced an eerie silence; a foggy, suffocating silence. Not even the TV could be heard in the other room; Adrian was observing the silence as well. As I dried, I groaned at the fact that all of my belongings were still at the Cavanaugh house. Without pretense, I walked in to the room in just my towel and stared at my red dress, crumpled on the floor.

“Hey,” Adrian called gently.

When I looked up, I saw him lift my suitcase and a bag onto the bed.

“How did you . . .” I paced toward my things.

“When I brought Bo back to his house he had me wait so he could get your things . . .” Adrian shrugged uncomfortably.

“Adrian, I’m so sorry for dragging you into this. I need to call Monica to come pick me up. I need to call my boss to tell her about everything. . .” Dissolution of the relationship . . .

Adrian sat next to me and put his arm around my bare, wet shoulder, “I’ll call Monica. I’ll just give her the basics and tell her that you’ll fill her in in the morning. I’ll take you home, but you need to get some sleep first. About your boss, Bo said he was heading inside to call David Bryson to tell him about the blackmail. David and Monica will fill your boss in. Don’t worry about it tonight.

“Just like that . . .” I whispered.

“What?” Adrian lifted my chin.

“Nothing . . . I’ll get dressed. Sleep sounds divine, I’m sore as hell.”

“Here’s some ibuprofen, take it.” Adrian handed me the pills and a glass of water. “You’re tough shit, November Harris, I’ve never seen anyone so . . .”

“Pissed?” I laughed as I swallowed the pills.

“Yeah, pissed. Look, I’m sorry about what happened with Bo, I can tell how much you mean to each other.” He pulled me in for a hug.

“Meant. And, I’m sorry you had to witness all of that.” I spoke weakly into his chest.

“It was intense, that’s for sure. But, I’m glad to know you can hold your own, Blue, that was something.”

I stood to bring my clothes to the bathroom, but Adrian excused himself to the hallway so I’d have privacy and he could make phone calls. As I gave in to sleep, I could hear Adrian’s muffled voice in the hallway, “Hey Monica, it’s Adrian . . . yes, Adrian Turner. Look, something happened tonight. No don’t freak out, everyone’s ok for the most part . . .”

*

I woke early, thankful for a dreamless sleep. Stretching out in bed I could feel the pain of last night in every muscle of my body and soul. When I sat up on my elbows I smiled at the sight of Adrian Turner sleeping in the desk chair. His head rested at an awkward angle against the wall, and his arms folded in front of him. The crinkle of the comforter as I swung my legs over the bed startled him awake.

“Sorry,” I whispered.

“How’d you sleep?”

He rubbed his neck. “Great, actually. Turns out being chased, and trying to kick someone’s ass really takes something out of you. Why didn’t you sleep in the bed?”