Iris Johansen - Eve

Eve nodded. “In a week or so.”

“That’s good.” She was gazing drowsily up at Eve. “You have a bruise, too.” She reached up and touched the purple mark on Eve’s cheek. “Did Jimmy do that to you?”

“No, someone else. A couple days ago. I’m okay.”

“Poor Eve.” She gently patted Eve’s face. “Poor little girl. Like mother, like daughter.” Her eyes closed. “Like mother, like daughter…”

Eve stiffened as if Sandra had struck her.

She threw the salve on the nightstand and got to her feet. Her voice was shaking when she said, “She’ll be okay for the night.” She turned and strode out of the room. “Turn out her lamp.”

An instant later, the light went out, and John came out of the bedroom.

“Thank you for helping with her.” She was standing at the window with her back to him, looking down at the street. “Though I didn’t give you much choice, did I?”

“I had a choice.” He paused. “And you’re not like your mother, Eve. She’s not a bad woman, but she’s weak. There’s nothing about you that’s weak.”

“I know that,” she said. “But when I see her like that, I have to keep reminding myself. And how can I be sure that she wasn’t stronger when she was my age? Was she like me? Can life beat me down and turn me into what she’s become?”

“Not if you don’t let it.”

She drew a deep breath. “That’s right. I’m not thinking straight right now.” She turned around to face him. “Sometimes I get scared, but it doesn’t last long. Do you ever get scared, John?”

“Now and then. Usually it’s about being trapped somewhere and not able to get out.”

“And that’s why you’re going to join the Army and see the world. You’re going to avoid all the traps,” she said. “I don’t have to see the world. I’m going to make my own world.”

He smiled. “And what a world it will be. I’d like to stay around and see it.”

And she would like him to be there to see what she could accomplish, she realized. He would give life an edge, an excitement.

What was she thinking? That edge and excitement were what was most dangerous to her. She needed steadiness and focus to reach her goals.

He was looking around the room. “Very clean, very neat. It looks like you.”

“It’s the only way I can stand it. I taught myself to keep house, but I’m still a lousy cook. Strictly TV dinners.”

“I like to cook. It relaxes me.”

“Another thing your uncle taught you?”

He nodded. “He never got married. He had to do for himself. I’d like you to meet him someday.” His gaze was on the wall beside the window. “That’s a nice sketch on the wall. It’s Manuel, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I did it when I sat with him while Rosa went to the store. I’m going to give it to her when she starts her GED study. It’s sort of a bribe.”

“It’s good. Is that what you’re going to study?”

“Art? No way. I’ve heard too much about starving artists. And people who starve end up in places like this. I’m going to study engineering. That’s solid.”

“You have something there.” His gaze was still wandering. “One bedroom. Where do you sleep?”

“On the couch. It’s pretty comfortable.”

His gaze went to the paisley-covered couch across the room. “Cushy. Yeah, I can see you lying on it.” His eyes shifted back to her. “I’m glad I’ll be able to picture you there.”

Heat again. Out of nowhere. Just a few words, and that tingling tension was back.

“You’d better leave.”

“I’m going. I knew I said the wrong thing. I was making headway. We’ve gotten to know more about each other. You’re not thinking of me as a threat to you any longer. I should have let it go at that, but I couldn’t do it.” He added, “But I didn’t want to let you forget what’s going to be important to us.” He turned toward the door. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow night.”

“Don’t you ever give up?”

“If I’d taken you at your word tonight and left you when you handed me my walking papers, then it would have been a hell of a lot more difficult for you.” He opened the door. “You can never tell when I might come in handy.”

“One-in-a-thousand chance.”

“When it comes, I’ll be there.” He looked back over his shoulder. “Do you know how I’m going to be thinking of you lying on that couch?” he said softly. “Naked, Eve. Naked and moving.”

He shut the door.

Damn him.

A wild kind of chemistry.

Searing hunger, mindless need. She was feeling all of those emotions that very moment.

Her hands were clenched as she stared at the door. The hell he was no longer a threat. Yes, they had gotten to know more about each other. Though he had become more knowledgeable about her than she was of him. He had caught her at a susceptible time, and she had revealed a vulnerability that she had shown no one before.

All she had learned about him was that he could be even more brutal and dangerous than he had shown her with that encounter with Larazo. That he had effortlessly made himself a necessity to Sandra and her during this hellish night. That he had read her mind and emotions with a cleverness and sensitivity that made her uneasy. That he had a patience that was almost intimidating. That his worst fear was of being trapped.

And that he was able, with one look or sentence, to make her body respond.

Naked and moving.

She knew as she lay on the couch trying to sleep tonight that she would be thinking, feeling, imagining John Gallo’s vision of her… and of him.

Damn him.

SHE TOOK AN HOUR OFF FROMwork the next day so that she’d be gone when he reached the restaurant.

The next night he showed up at the restaurant three hours early.

“I was worried that you weren’t here,” he said as he sat down on the chair. “Until Teresa told me that you’d left early. Is Sandra okay?”

“I guess so. She only stayed at home one day. When I got home from school today, she was gone.”

“Then it wasn’t trouble at home. You were running away from me.” He added quietly, “You shouldn’t do that, Eve. I know you can’t afford to miss any hours.”

“I wasn’t running from you. I had homework.”

He looked at her skeptically.

“What’s wrong? Didn’t Teresa entertain you?”

He shook his head. “You keep pushing her at me. If I wanted a substitute, I’d choose my own.” He studied her. “And you’re changing the subject. You must have had a reason to panic.”

“I didn’t panic.”

“Too strong a word? Maybe just a couple of really bad nights?”

She didn’t answer.

“I had them, too.” He got up from the stool, and said curtly, “And it’s time you brought this to an end. I’ll be waiting outside every night until you decide to either call the cops on me or give me my shot at convincing you that I’m not going to do anything to hurt you.”

He walked out the door.

And he would do exactly what he said, she realized. She had already gotten a taste of that patience. He was right. She would have to settle this in some other way because he wouldn’t be avoided.

And she wouldn’t run away from him again.

“LET’S GO.” SHE OPENED THE passenger door and got into John’s Chevy. “I’m tired of the people I’m working with thinking I’m being stalked.”

“I guess you could say they’re right. Except stalking implies violence, and there’s no way I’d be violent with you.” As he started the car, he said, “Unless you wanted it. You don’t have the experience, and I’d shy away from it. But we could try it if you-”