Eye Candy

“Have you known Kenai long?” I dare to ask, in an attempt at making conversation.

“Yeah,” Oliver murmurs. “A while now.”

Right. “It’s a great place they’ve got going on here.”

He glances at me. “It is.”

Gosh, I usually don’t talk much, and this is why. When people don’t answer me, it makes me feel silly. I close my mouth and just keep shuffling along. For a bit, the silence is incredibly uncomfortable, and I shift around trying to figure out what to do. I don’t want to make conversation if he’s not in the mood to talk, but this silence is killing me.

“You worked here long?” Oliver asks after about ten minutes, his eyes flicking in my direction.

“Ah.” Crap, now I’m nervous that he is talking to me. “Not really. I came here for the same reason everyone else does, I suppose. But I felt at home here and wanted to do more, so Marlie offered me a job. So, I’m just a bit of everything, I guess.”

“You were one of the people who came here to find peace? To get away from something?”

My eyes go to his, and he’s watching me with an intensity I can’t put my finger on. It’s almost as if he will be able to tell, just by looking at me, if I’m lying or not. I swallow and decide to just tell him the truth. My therapist told me talking about my ex would help me heal, because for so long I kept it all to myself and almost acted like he didn’t exist and what he did to me didn’t happen. Which she deemed “unhealthy.”

“I was,” I say, stretching the web out even further. “My, ah, ex-boyfriend gave me some troubles.”

“What kind of troubles?” Oliver asks, tying some more string to hold the webbing on.

I shift a little, because I’m not really used to strangers asking me questions, although I guess I can understand why he wants to know. There’s no harm in telling him. It’s my story; I can’t change it, so there is no point denying it. “He was abusive, physically and mentally. After I left, he became obsessed and stalked me for a while, threatening me. I got free of it, but it haunted me, I guess. I only had my best friend to talk to.”

“Was he always like that?”

I shake my head. “No, not always. At first, it was good. A seemingly normal relationship, but over time, he became possessive, starting over small things, like someone looking in my direction, and then it all just got worse until it blew up. Then he wasn’t the person I thought I knew. Not at all.”

I shiver, remembering what it was like living with Terry sometimes. The man I fell in love with very quickly changed, revealing layers of possessiveness, controlling behavior, and abusive tendencies. There were times I couldn’t even look at a man passing or he’d lose it. Swearing that I was trying to leave him, that I was sleeping around and cheating on him. It was an obsession that quickly turned dark.

Oliver’s jaw tics. “What’s his name?”

I blink. “Who? My ex?”

“Yes. His name?”

“Ah, Terry.”

Oliver holds my eyes. “Last name.”

Oh boy. The way his voice sounds makes my skin shiver. He’s serious right now. He wants to know, and I know exactly why he wants to know. He’s like most normal men. They don’t like to know scum like that is walking the streets, and they want nothing more than to stamp it out. I understand that, believe me, but I just escaped Terry’s clutches; I don’t want to go back to them by raising the past.

“I can’t tell you that. Not because I don’t want to—believe me, a part of me does—but because it’s the safest option.”

Oliver’s eyes flash. “I’m not going to do anything, I just don’t like the thought of men like that walking this earth to hurt more women. Pains me to know they’re out there, roaming free, without a care in the world.”

“You can’t control everyone,” I say softly.

“No,” he murmurs. “You’re right about that.”

“Yeah.”

He studies me for a few moments. “What about your parents? Where were they when this was happening? I know you’re a grown woman, but most families tend to notice when things go wrong. Nobody noticed?”

“I don’t, ah, get along with my parents.”

“Why?” he questions.

I don’t have the best parents in the world. They were never great; not a single moment of my childhood do I recall them being any good. I was an accident, and I was reminded of that my whole life. My mom cared more about money and her friends than me. It was as if I was a burden. And my dad was a drunk who never did anything but sit in front of the television, watching the world go by, not a care in the world, beer in hand.

They were never abusive, but they were neglectful. I spent most of my childhood doing everything myself, from cooking, to washing, to getting myself to school. It’s probably why I attached myself to Terry as fast and closely as I did. I was craving love. As soon as I could, I moved out, got a job, and cut contact. I don’t see or hear from them now, and I’m okay with that. My life is better off without them in it. I’m a stronger person because I took a stand for myself. I have no siblings, no one else to rely on. It was always just me.

“My mom is selfish and fake, and my father is a drunk. I tend to avoid them at any cost. I wasn’t something they wanted, and they made sure I knew that growing up.”

He nods. “Understand that, too. Shame you got no one in the world who can have your back. Everyone deserves that.”

I smile. “That’s not true. I have my best friend, Erin, and I have Marlie and Kenai. They have been great to me, and I don’t know what I’d do without them. So, I’m more fortunate than most. Some people out there, and even here at Sanctuary, they don’t have anybody. No one at all. I would never want that life.”

Oliver studies me for a long moment and my cheeks go red.

“Think I might just like you, Jade.”

With that, my knees tremble.

Well.

I think I might just like him, too.





Chapter 2


“Do you have any family?” I ask Oliver as we move up and down the stairs attaching lights so people don’t trip when the lights go off.

“Yeah, got a dad. My mom passed when I was a baby. Never knew her.”

That’s awful, and my heart goes out to him. I wonder if he’s close to his dad. I’d do anything to have parents I could be close to, parents who I could call when something was wrong. I’d give it all, to have big family barbecues, where everyone laughed and joked and there were kids running around everywhere. I never had that. And I can sympathize with anyone else who hasn’t.

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” I tell him. “Are you and your dad close?”

He nods. “Yeah, we get along really well.”

“That’s good. What do you do for a living?”