Escaping Reality

me enough peace to
    get through the night. And while I should be freaked out that I didn’t hear
    him leave, I’m pretty sure my mind used Liam as we had used each other
    for sex. For an escape. He had given me something else to focus on instead
    of my situation, and clearly allowed me to shut down mentally and hold
    myself together.
    Liam had been an unexpected gift. Who was gone.
    Standing up, I ignore the gut-wrenching feeling of being alone. I’ve
    done this for years.
    There’s no reason I can’t do it now. Besides, I was never alone or my
    handler wouldn’t have known when I was in trouble, but where the idea of
    his existence has comforted me in the past, it doesn’t work this time. I can’t
    go through this again. I have to have an exit strategy of my own.
    One that gets me off everyone’s radar, including my handler.
    I walk to the living room to assess the rest of the apartment in the
    daylight and my breath hitches as I spot a package sitting on the kitchen
    table with a note. I reach for the wall to steady myself, an icy chill sliding
    through me at what this means. My handler has a key to the apartment.

Chapter Eight

    The air feels thicker, my breathing more labored, and I barely
    remember walking to the table. I am simply there, staring down at what has
    been left for me. The box is white with an Apple logo on the top, and this
    does not seem like good news to me. Is the new phone I received last night,
    and haven’t used, already compromised in some way? Am I moving again?
    Is this location unsafe? My adrenaline spikes and I grab the small white
    envelope and pull the card from inside out.
    Amy -
    It’s not safe to be without a phone. This is yours to keep and the
    service is paid for a full year. And don’t say “no” when I’m not there to
    argue the many reasons you have to say “yes”.
    Think about your safety and convenience. Besides, I selfishly do not
    want to wait to hear your voice until I see you again. My number is
    programmed in the phone. Text me when you get this and I’ll call you at a
    break from my meeting.
    Liam
    A sense of relief washes through me and I become aware of my free
    hand balled at my chest, where my heart is beating like a drum. I inhale and
    will it to slow. I’m okay. Everything is okay. The note isn’t from my handler.
    I am not leaving another city. I am not running. I am only hiding. Or maybe I
    am running. I don’t know how to define what I am or what I do anymore,
    and suddenly I am exhausted when I’ve only just woken up.
    I sit down and touch Liam’s signature, blocking out everything else.
    He didn’t walk out the door today without saying goodbye. He doesn’t
    intend to say goodbye at all. I’m blown away that he took the time before
    heading to his meeting to go out and buy me a phone. No one has done
    anything like this for me since I was still living at home. Home . The word,
    the place, the past, crashes over me. Sometimes I dream of throwing away
    fear and returning. Sometimes I think that facing the danger rather than
    running from it is my better option. But how do you face what you do not
    fully know?
    My gaze falls on Liam’s neat, masculine script and my lashes lower.
    For a few moments, I let myself indulge in the memories of Liam’s velvety,
    warm kisses and sensual caresses. I remember the “pi” tattoo and the
    numbers that formed a triangle that disappeared deliciously below his belt
    line. I remember his husky voice when he’d said, “Baby, you can examine it,
    lick it, do whatever you want to do to it and me, after I feed you. I promised.
    I meant it.” A shiver of pure desire tracks down my spine, but my eyes land
    on the envelope with my lease inside and it’s like a knife has cut open the
    sultry veil of fantasy I’m hiding beneath. My handler wasn’t here today, but
    he could have a key. I wonder if he’d had a key to my first place in New
    York. I shiver again, and this time it is not with desire. I am creeped out in a
    big way, and I’m having my locks changed.
    I shake myself and stand up, setting the note from Liam back on the
    table, uncomfortably aware of my circumstances. Liam is a distraction and a
    problem I cannot afford. No matter how much I might want to see him
    again, I cannot. I won’t. Sleeping through the sound of a feather dropping
    isn’t an option to me, let alone relaxing with a man I barely know to the
    extent I sleep through the opening and shutting of doors. Liam was