Chapter 21: So Be It
"What do you fucking mean you couldn't get the fucking number, Baz?" Red barked into the phone.
"Just what I said, Red," the other man replied calmly. "The damn AT&T worker asked Elizabeth if she wanted to use her old number and she said no. Neither of them said the new number out loud. I was listening, trust me."
Red growled in frustration.
"You know," Baz said slyly, "you could always just ask her for her number."
"Fuck off," the other man snarled, jaw clenching as he quickly thought through all the various moves he could make in getting Elizabeth's new fucking cell phone number. It was like a damn chess game. He could call Jules and have her use her fancy technological equipment that he didn't understand at all (well, fuck, that's why he paid her-so he didn't have to understand it). But he had her working on another project right now and to move her-even for something as simple as this-would affect too many other pieces on the chessboard. He could call Greg and get the same job done, sure, but he was out of the country and therefore useless. Shit.
Baz chuckled boldly, unphased by his employer's ire. He knew it wasn't really directed at him, anyway. "What's my next move?"
"Just slip back into your normal routine. Watch her. If anything unusual happens-"
"I'll call you. Got it, boss."
"And if you happen to hear her repeat that fucking number to someone-"
"For instance, to another man?"
Red swallowed a hiss, refusing to continue to outwardly show that the other man's joshing was yanking his damn chain. "Just text it to me, will you?"
"And if I don't hear her repeat it?"
"Then I guess I'll be coming to fucking Seattle sooner rather than later, won't I?" He could hear Baz's guffaw even as he jammed his thumb into the End button.
Fucking Baz. Oh yes, the younger man had a grand old time razzing Red about how it was his damn fault that Elizabeth broke her phone in fit of temper over the status of their relationship. Red hadn't breathed a word, but the few people closest to him in his protective circle had quickly figured out what had passed between himself and Lizzy during their stay in Nebraska...and what had passed between them two days ago.
Fuck.
Red sighed, rubbing his brow as he headed to the liquor cabinet to pour himself a glass of scotch. He swirled the amber liquid, watching the lamplight play with its color, shading it from a dark auburn to the lightest of golds. As always, the look of it, the taste of it in his mouth soothed him somewhat.
Alcoholic.
Yes, he acknowledged to himself. He probably always would be-to a degree. Drinking relaxed him, helped him take the sharp edges of his raw emotions off. And he definitely needed to be calm and centered at this moment in time. Red eased down into his chair before taking another swig. During the first few weeks after he'd arrived back home from Nebraska, he'd often wondered what had given him away once he'd caught the few people he kept around him slanting him sidelong glances and hiding smiles (or smirks) behind their hands. He had always made sure he'd been as alone as he could be whenever he had spoken with Lizzy on the phone. And he'd made sure to try and ratchet down the sensual purr that would sometimes creep into his voice (when he wasn't thinking) whenever he did speak to her-or spoke about her. Obviously his efforts had been in vain.
Christ, that girl.
That glorious, volatile, imperious minx.
Red took another drink, expression pained, wishing to God that he had chosen his words with more care that night. But he had discovered-too late-that she was able to rile his temper in a way that no one else could, verbally pushing and shoving him until he snapped. Obviously he had the same effect on her. He'd been stunned speechless when she had actually hung up on him. Then that shock had morphed into fury when the rest of his calls had gone straight to her voicemail. Of course, he hadn't known at the time that she had smashed her phone to literal bits. Once he'd received word of that particular incident, he had waited-as patiently as possible-for her to buy a new phone and call him back. An entire day had passed them by and she still had not called him. It was purposeful. She was punishing him, he knew that. But how the fuck could he make her see that what he was doing was for her own good if they didn't speak over the Goddamned phone?
That girl.
That gorgeous, fiery, dazzling pain in the ass.
He closed his eyes, involuntarily envisioning how she might have looked the night they had fought. He could just see her hissing at him, those beautiful eyes of hers flashing, fist clenching around her cell phone as she sat cross-legged on her bed, long, smooth legs pale against the dark comforter, breasts straining against the ribbed tank she wore as she took in a deep breath to snarl at him...
His penis twitched and he growled softly. Christ. Where was his fucking self-control?
Red had been truthful that night when he'd said that he wasn't trying to hurt her, directly implying that he was looking out for her like he always had and always would. For the last month and a half he had berated himself and had questioned every action he had committed with Lizzy. Conflicting emotions had warred within him, the two main ones being-simply put-throbbing guilt for taking her into his bed and aching desire for wanting to keep her there. She had stirred a previously dormant passion in him that had been breathtakingly beautiful. Addictive. Honest and all too revealing. Unnerving.
Red quickly shied away from that particular train of thought.
And so he had maintained a physical-and to some extent, an emotional-distance to attempt to temper their passions...and definitely restrain himself until he could figure out how best to proceed with her. Red shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Christ. He had purposefully stayed away from her for this very reason! If just thinking about her could turn him on, how could he have controlled himself and have kept them on a more platonic footing if he had seen her in person? Despite what she might think due to the causal facade he had adopted, it certainly hadn't been easy on him to stay parted from her.
But his efforts to mitigate the emotional and sexual tension had come at a price. Red had hurt her deeply. And what was worse was that he'd known he had been upsetting her when he had kept her at a distance and hadn't made the effort to come see her before Spring Break. Lizzy had handled herself quite admirably, following along with his plan of platonicity-at first. But he had known she wouldn't play that game for long because there hadn't been an end in sight. And she wanted an end-he'd known that much about her and should have had a better plan in mind for when her imperious will had finally made its appearance. She'd had too much pride to continue the charade, which was why she had taunted him with the clubbing comment. She'd tried to mask it, but Red knew she had been crestfallen when he'd broken his promise. The thing about Elizabeth was that any time she felt sadness, or felt emotionally threatened in any way, she tended to turn immediately to anger, thinking it would make her strong. So she had turned that flaring temper onto him, letting him know by her tone just how devastated she really was. And then...
Intense guilt washed over him.
Christ, he shouldn't have made love to her. He shouldn't have. A part of him had hoped that once she had resettled into college life, she'd be lured back into dating young men her age like she had used to...that she would realize that she didn't really want him. That she'd admit to herself that he'd been there for convenience, to help fill an emotional void as she coped with the devastating loss of Sam.
Had that made him a coward, hoping she'd do his dirty work for him so he wouldn't have to cut those physical and highly-emotional ties?
Maybe it had.
And yes, that part of him may have wanted her to be the one to initiate their return to what their relationship had been before. But there was another part of him that resentfully stalked stiff-legged within the inner barriers of his mind, snarling viciously at him to pursue her and take her, because, damn it, he desired her. Yearned for her.
Loved her.
Fuck.
Red threw back more alcohol, wincing as it burned down his throat.
He didn't deserve to love Elizabeth as a man loves a woman. He had done so many horrible, ghastly things in his adult life. He had committed unforgivable sins. He was plagued by multitudes of demons...haunted by the ghosts of those he'd killed, hunted mercilessly by his addictions, and all of the agonizingly painful memories that shadowed each and every devil lurked just behind his conscious mind. If he gave any one of those impurities marring his soul any attention whatsoever, most-if not all of them-would sense his weakness and lunge ferociously at him all at once, attempting to tear him asunder.
He was damaged. Hell-bound. A miscreant and eater of others' sins, like Elizabeth's. And that was yet another reason for trying to create a distance between them. How could he be what she deserved if he couldn't be wholly and completely honest with her? Not that he had ever quite lied to her outright, but throughout her whole life he had lied through omission. She had no idea who he truly was, what he knew about her and her past life as Masha Rostova. If he had capitulated to his own intense yearning to persist in exploring their evolving relationship as she continued to grow out of the protective sphere childhood and young adulthood had afforded her, his enemies-and her mother's-would certainly find her through tracking him. How could he, in good conscience, submit her to the possibility of being hunted down like an animal for the sake of his own physical and emotional needs? The very thought was unconscionable. He knew that.
And yet nearly every late night when he was alone in the dark, his thoughts would turn to Lizzy. He would torture himself with memories of how it had felt to lie with her. Sometimes he could almost taste her sweet flesh, smell her clean scent, feel the brush of her soft hair against his chest, feel her nails lightly biting into his arms, feel her thrusting and sliding over his cock as she moved on top of him, completely lost in her own guileless pleasure. There had been a few times over the last month when his fantasizing had become so real that he had actually allowed himself physical release using only his thoughts of her and his hands, rationalizing that he did it to ultimately stave off his sexual longing so he could think clearly and make decisions that weren't tainted by lust. The fact that he had almost been swayed by his own desires multiple times was beyond shameful. He didn't deserve to be loved by such an honest and vibrant soul.
That girl.
His darling Lizzy.
She deserved so much more than what he could give her. But he could still provide her his protection. And he would, always. Of course, having her cell phone number on file would certainly make that part of his responsibility easier, in case there was an emergency and he had to swiftly get a hold of her, or she him. Red scowled down at his empty glass. He would give Baz a few more days to try and overhear it. He would give Elizabeth a few more days to call him back. If neither of those things happened, then Red would probably have to confront her himself.
And knowing his stubborn Lizzy as well as he did, that "probably" could very well turn into a "definitely."
So be it.