-Chapter 9-

I awoke the next morning with a strong pounding in my head. I lay there for a minute with my eyes shut, preparing myself to walk downstairs into the kitchen and get some Tylenol. But when I opened my eyes, I was shocked to find I wasn't in my familiar room. There were white, hard sheets underneath me, instead of my usual plush red ones. On the nightstand beside me, I saw an ash tray, old beer bottles, and a few crumbled up newspapers. I propped myself on my elbow, looking around the room and trying to make sense of where I was. That's when I heard a low, deep groan beside me. Holding my breath, I slowly looked over and saw John sprawled out next to me, the covers pulled down enough to expose his built, bare, hairy chest. I let out a quick gasp, and then jumped out of bed. I guess he heard me, because as soon as my feet touched the ground, he squinted his face and rubbed his hand across his jaw line, and then slowly opened his eyes. I stood by the bed like a dear in highlights, scared to move. He sat up, and then turned to face me. When he saw me, he looked me up and down. A sleepy smirk came across his face, and he let out a whistle.

I didn't understand why he did that, until I looked down and realized I was completely naked. I quickly jerked a blanket off the end of the bed, and used it to cover my body. I stood there in shock with my jaw dropped.

"I forgot how amazing you were, Little Red." At the moment, he sounded like the devil.

"Uh…" It was all I could do to mumble. My head was hurting worse than before, and last night's events quickly came back to my mind. My palms started sweating and my breathing got quicker as I realized what I had done. Meanwhile, John hadn't taken his eyes off me. He got out of bed, showing no shame in his naked body. I tried not to look.

"Why are you acting so weird?" He asked as he put on some boxers (Thank God).

"What did we do last night?" As if I didn't know. But honestly, it was all I could think to ask. My throat was dry and my words came out raspy. John walked towards me.

"You don't remember? Here, let me remind you." He said as he began to pull the blanket off of me.

"No!" I quickly jerked back, resisting his urging to expose myself. His face grew stern, and I became even more scared than before as he stared at me with the eyes I had tried so hard to forget. I knew I had to save myself. "Just not now, okay honey? Can we have some breakfast first?"

"It's one o'clock." He said, not moving his penetrating eyes from mine. I had no idea it was already afternoon!

Repeating last night's events was the last thing I wanted to do. I just needed to buy some time to think of an excuse to leave "Uh, lunch then? I'm super hungry."

He stared at me harshly for a few seconds, and I didn't breathe again until he looked away and started walking out of the room. "Fine." He trudged out of the room and down the stairs as I stood in the same position I had been in since I first sprung out of bed.

Finally, I snapped out of my trance and looked for my clothes, which were scattered across the room. I put them on and then went to the bathroom to wash my face and run my fingers through my tangled hair. Then, I checked my phone on the nightstand to find 3 missed calls from Cheyenne, 2 from Brock, and 36 from Barbra Jean. I ignored her, and then quickly called Cheyenne back. She didn't answer, so I sat down on the bed and stared at my phone. My heart throbbed as I realized she could have needed me, and I wasn't there. Knowing Cheyenne, she was probably just calling to ask how to boil water. But still…I should have been there to answer her. The guilt was pounding in my body, but just like everything else, I shoved it out of the way and tried to forget about it. I cautiously shut the door, and then called back Brock, who answered after the third ring.

"Reba?" He sounded relieved that I called back.

"Hey. Did you call?" I tried to act as causal as I could so he wouldn't suspect anything.

"Yeah I called you last night and this morning. Jake left his homework at the house, so I drove him by but you weren't there," I cringed when he called it 'the house', not 'your house'. "It was pretty late, too. I was just making sure you're okay."

"Yes, I'm fine. I just went out on date night with the girls." I forced a laugh at the irony.

"Oh you did?" He asked suspiciously. "Because Barbara called me last night to make sure you were okay. She said she's worried about you… Since you haven't been going out with them lately." Dammit, Barbara. My throat closed up as I tried to think of an excuse. It was silent for a few minutes, and just as I was about to speak, Brock spoke again. "Barbara never calls me. Actually, she kind of hates my guts. So, it's obvious she's real worried about you." It was quiet again. "I'm worried about you too, Reba." This time, the reason I wasn't responding wasn't because of my dry throat or my nervousness. I wasn't responding because I was trying to hold back my tears. The gentle caring in his voice seemed so relieving after last night.

"I'm fine, Brock." That was all I could get out. I'm sure he could tell by my voice that I didn't want to talk about it, so he tried to sound causal again.

"Cheyenne and B.J. wanted to come by and show you some new clothes they bought for Elizabeth. Is it okay if we swing by real quick?" Great. Just great.

"Um, I'm not home now. I'll call you as soon as I can."

Our conversation was again filled with that stupid, eerie silence that was killing me. Finally, Brock asked the question I knew he had wanted to ask in the first place. "Reba, where were you last night? And where are you now?" His voice had a mixture of sadness and intense seriousness that gave me goose bumps. My only response was to be my normal, moody, ex-wife self. If I didn't, I knew there was no way I'd be able to hold back my tears.

"That is none of your business, Brock." I said matter-of-factly.

"Reba-"

"Brock." I said sternly. "It's none of your business."

He sighed. "Okay, fine. I guess I'll just tell the kids we'll drop by later. But Reba, please just be safe-" That was all I heard. John busted the door open. The bang was loud enough to cause Brock to stop mid-sentence.

"I've been waiting down there for 10 minutes!" John yelled. "Who the hell are you talking to?"

"I gotta go." I slurred to Brock as I quickly hung up. "It was just the kids. I was making sure they were alright." I spoke to John calmly.

"I heard you say Brock." He stated in a flat voice, moving closer to me.

"I know. I had to call his phone to talk to them." I stuttered as he approached me. He stood by the bed, as I sat on the edge, and stared down at me. Just then, Brock began calling back. I quickly declined his call and turned off my volume. I looked back up at him, and he continued to stare with anger and rage burning in his eyes. It was quiet as I tried to avoid eye-contact with him, and my voice was shaky when I finally spoke. "I'm sorry. You have nothing to be worried about." I purred as I ran a finger down his lower stomach, finally meeting his eyes. Now, being seductive with him literally made me nauseous. But I knew it was my only option.

He continued to stare for a second, and then his jaw loosened and his fist unclenched. "Okay. Come eat. I made you a sandwich." He mumbled. He walked downstairs, and I followed him with shaky legs.

Lunch was awkward, to say the least. I wasn't hungry, but tried to eat as much as I could since he made it for me. The tension from mine and Brock's phone call lingered in the air, and we hardly spoke the whole time. But every few minutes, I would look up and find him staring at me. I couldn't tell if he was angry, or extremely turned on. Either way, it scared me.

After several minutes of thinking of an excuse, I finally spoke. "So, Cheyenne and Van have class today, and Brock is taking Jake and Kyra shopping, so I need to watch Elizabeth. I should probably head home pretty soon."

It was quiet for a few seconds, but I didn't dare look up.

"Can't his little mistress watch her?" Why must he call her that?

"No, she's going shopping with them. They can't take Elizabeth though, because she's never been a very cooperative shopper." I tried to laugh, but I'm sure John could tell how fake it was. It was silent for an even longer period this time.

"I really don't want you to leave." He said rather forcefully, hitting his hand against the table.

"I don't want to go either." Lies, lies, lies. "But I have to." I said in a slow, quiet voice, trying to sound as if I didn't want to leave as badly as I did. John didn't respond, but got up to put away his plate. He grabbed mine, with over half a sandwich left on it, and then walked to the sink. He placed the dishes down, and then walked around the counter to lean against the edge. He stared at me.

"What time will you be back?" What time will I be back? I was expected to come back? Where did this come from?

"Well, I'm not sure. They'll probably be out pretty late," I drug out the end of my sentence, hoping he'd get the hint. Of course, he didn't.

"I want to see you tonight." He stated. It sounded more like a demand, and I knew from experience it was one I couldn't turn away from.

"Okay." I felt like I had just been sentenced to life in prison. I grabbed my purse, and slowly walked towards the door.

"Wait." He stopped me. I turned to face him, and he came close to me. I smelt the luring, dangerous scent of his body, and felt the seductive, deadly heat on his breath. He clinched my upper arms, and squeezed tightly as he leaned his mouth towards my ear. "I mean it." He breathed. He lightly kissed the base of my ear with a sincerity that contradicted everything he was doing. I expected him to let me go, but he kept his grip as he slowly buried his face into my neck, taking a deep breath of me. Then, softly, he kissed my neck, causing me to shiver. He let his tongue move across my skin for a quick second before pulling back and staring at me again. "Understand?"

"Yes." He let go. I grabbed my purse and walked on shaky legs out to my car, which was still parked pretty far away.

On the way to the car, I felt my eyes grow heavy and my vision cloud up as tears began to form. Why did he do this to me? He could make my life complete misery, but yet do it so sweetly, to where all I wanted was more of it. But, it was then that I realized that I had no clue what it felt like to be in a true relationship. Yes, I've had a few since my divorce, but nothing serious. In 6 years, I had forgotten what it felt like to feel these amazing, spontaneous feelings, but with someone you love. I forgot what it was like to do things for each other out of love and admiration, not horniness and loneliness. A large part of me yearned to feel that way; to be able to allow myself to feel great, and not have any sort of regrets like the ones that were weighing down on me. I should feel free and happy, not bounded and scared.

Scared. That was something I hadn't felt in a long time, and definitely something I didn't miss. I had always told myself I would never, ever be scared of a man. But John was different. I knew just what he was capable of. Feeling this brought a whole new thought to my heavy mind- security. How long has it been since I've actually felt safe? Secure? How long has it been since I didn't have to constantly worry about protecting myself? Realizing so much at once made the tears flow harder as I opened my car door and sat in the seat, leaning my head against the steering wheel to sob.

Last night I was off at John's acting like an idiot, and no one was there to stop me. That scares me. All I want is someone who cares for me, not just my body. No, actually, I don't want, I need it. I need that feeling of knowing that someone notices when I'm not okay, and actually cares that I'm not around.

I tried to clear my head as I started my car. With shaky hands and blurry eyes, I pulled out my phone. I looked at the screen to find 18 missed calls from Brock.