Page 64 of Vicious Temptation

“This was good,” he says, when I’m sweaty and tired, my muscles aching from running through the drills, and probably in need of another shower. “We’ll keep at this a while longer.” Gabriel hesitates then, looking at me. “If I’m really going to teach you self-defense, though—I’m going to have to touch you eventually, Bella. You’ll need to learn blocks, things like that. Some of it can be done with pads—I’ll hold them up, and you punch, kick, all of that. But it’s inevitable that we’re going to touch at some point. Not like—wrestling on the mats or anything,” he adds quickly, a flush rising in his throat. “But some contact is unavoidable.”

My pulse quickens. I know what Dr. Langan would say. Progress. And I know what Clara would say, too. It would be a very different opinion of what’s happening here.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” I manage. “The drills for now, and then?—”

Gabriel nods, and I can see that he’s pleased that I didn’t entirely shut him down. But why? I tell myself it’s because he wants me to be safe, and nothing else. Not because he wants an excuse to touch me. Not because he wants to be closer. Because he’s a good boss. A good friend. He’s concerned for my welfare.

I go back up to my room, into the shower again, and change into pajama pants and a long-sleeved shirt, like usual. The new prescription bottle is in my side table, filled with a month’s worth of pills, ready for me to get a full night’s sleep in my own bed. I open the drawer and look at them, swallowing hard.

I’m not tired enough to fall asleep on my own, after the nap, but the pills would take care of that easily. The problem is?—

Do I want to take them?

Of course I do, I tell myself sternly. They mean a good night’s sleep, no nightmares, no disturbing anyone in the house. I have to get back to my routine tomorrow, back to work, and they will ensure that there are no hiccups when it comes to that. Gabriel has been patient with me, but I shouldn’t test that patience. I should do everything I need to, in order to make sure that I’m doing my part to not burden him or anyone else with my problems.

I can hear Clara’s voice in my head, as soon as I think it. What if he wants to be ‘burdened’ with them? What if he wants to help you?

What if he could?

The nap and the workout has me keyed up, and I lie there in bed, staring up at the ceiling for too long. Finally, I push back the covers and sit up, unsure of what I’m really thinking about doing.

I think about what Dr. Langan said in the appointment. About the swimming. The bathing suit. About trying it when no one could see me.

The house is quiet, and it’s late. It’s dark outside. Everyone is asleep. There’s no better chance of trying to follow her advice when no one can see me than right now.

My heart picks up pace in my chest, the itchy feeling that comes before a panic attack tingling along my skin. I think of Gabriel asking me if I always want to be dependent on the pills. If I want to try to do the things that will help.

I am trying. I’ve started doing the workouts with him. I took the driving lesson. I want to feel independent. In control. Like I can keep anything terrible from happening to myself ever again.

But I want to do more. I don’t want to have to drug myself into a stupor to keep from having nightmares forever.

I stand up, walking to my dresser. I honestly have no idea why I brought any two-piece bathing suits with me at all, but there is one in my upper drawer. I definitely never thought I’d wear it again. But maybe some small part of my mind, in the very back of it, was hopeful.

It’s very simple—a black balconette top with thin straps, and a black bottom that ties on the side. Swallowing hard, I slowly slide out of my sleep clothes, and into the bikini.

My heart is pounding, and I’m just in my room. No one will see me here. But no one can see me on the walk to the pool, either.

I grab my jeans and a different sweatshirt, pulling them on over the bathing suit, shoving my feet back into my sneakers. And then quietly, very quietly, I step out into the hall.

The house is utterly silent. I walk to the staircase, stepping carefully to avoid any creaks, not wanting to wake anyone. Especially Gabriel, who deserves a good night’s sleep after the ones I’ve cost him. But I manage to make it to the kitchen, and the back door there, without alerting anyone or waking them up.

It’s a warm night outside, cloudless—a beautiful night, far enough out from the city that I can see the canopy of stars overhead. A shiver runs over me despite the warmth, but I push forward, walking quickly out to the pool deck.

There’s no better moment than this—alone, at night, with nothing but the quiet hum of the darkness around me and my own thoughts. Those thoughts aren’t the best company, but I focus on one thing, over and over—I can do this.

And if I can do this, what else is possible?

I never thought about going swimming at night before, but it’s remarkably peaceful. The moonlight reflects off of the dark, still water in the pool, the pool house a shadow at the far end, the lounge chairs neatly silhouetted alongside. I walk over to one of them, taking a deep breath.

I’m all alone. No one is stirring, not in the main house or in the cottage half a mile across the estate, where Agnes and Aldo are peacefully sleeping. I can do this.

I reach for the hem of my sweatshirt, and pull it over my head.

20

GABRIEL

The bed feels empty without Bella.

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