C23 I'm just passing through

There would be no way for me to forgive myself.

After falling into a dreamless sleep, exhausted by my thoughts and emotions, my cell phone alarm went off, waking me up and announcing it was time to get ready.

I showered and dressed in the clothes I had prepared for our date. Once my hair and makeup were done, I slipped out to my truck and packed my belongings before Paul arrived.

I was ready to go.

Now I just had to survive the night without collapsing in a heap and sobbing like a wet sheet for the rest of my life.

I chose flat sandals to match my jeans. Heels wouldn't help me when I had to get Paul into my truck after the inevitable.

Nausea assaulted me at the thought, but I pushed it aside. Carry on.

Now all that was left for me to do was grab my purse, my keys, and meet Paul outside.

"You look beautiful," he said when I saw him. He leaned against my truck, looking a little too sinful, and I naturally responded to the hunger in his eyes.

"Thank you. I walked over to him. "You don't look so bad yourself."

He took my hand in his. "Will I see you again, Lara? After your aunt's funeral?"

I swallowed hard, ready to tell him everything, everything, but I held fast to my duty. "I don't think you'll want me once I'm gone." I patted her arm, trying to say goodbye in my own way, to apologize. "Now come along. Your chariot awaits you, my good sir." I jingled the keys before jumping into the truck, anxious to get away from his scrutinizing gaze.

I gripped the steering wheel for some sense of security, waiting for Paul to climb into the passenger seat. After taking one last look at him, we set off.

He chatted nonchalantly as I drove, giving directions, ignorant of what the night would bring. I doubted he could hate me more than I hated myself at that moment, listening to him, wanting to scream, to cry, to run. But I did none of that.

Finally, I pulled into a parking space outside The Gray Robin.

"And we made it," he sighed. "But before you go in. Before you say goodbye and leave tomorrow. Are there any skeletons in your closet I should know about, Lara?"

No. No. No. No skeletons. Why would you ask me that?

He looked disappointed. "No one to go back to once you're done in Albuquerque?"

"No. Not really." I picked up my purse, trying not to show that his strange questions puzzled me. I refused to look at him-I didn't even dare to-so I was surprised when he came to my window, opening the door for me. "Thank you.

He said nothing more, his hand rested possessively on my waist, directing me toward the bar.

We walked into a booming venue. A band was playing on stage. People were dancing. Others sat or stood in small groups.

In the crowd, I could breathe, though the heat of Paul's touch seemed to burn my skin through the fabric. The very thought of hurting him made me scream in frustration.

"I'll go get us a drink," I shouted over the music and the chatter of the crowd. "Why don't you go find us a seat."

"It's my turn to get the drinks," he said patting my arm. I snatched it from him without thinking.

"No. It's the least I can do for how welcoming you've been. I won't be long." I hurried away before he could argue, clutching the strap of my purse as if it were my lifeline.

Grateful when Paul didn't follow me, I headed for the bar.

"What are you drinking?" the bartender asked when it was my turn.

"Two beers, please. Bottled."

He studied me. "From out of town, huh?"

"I'm just passing through.

"Okay," he said, and went to get the beers. I discreetly took advantage of the time to reach into my purse and grab the white energy stuffed in a plastic bag. I held it so tightly that my fingernails dug into my palm and waited for the beers. The bartender set them in front of me and took my money. "Enjoy your evening at The Robin."

"Thank you, I will."

My hands shook as I watched him walk away. I couldn't.

You can, I commanded myself. You don't have a choice.

I picked up a bottle, set it down and placed it out of sight, discreetly pouring the white powder inside. I discarded the bag once that was done, picked up the two beers and held the drugged one in my right hand, taking a few breaths to steady myself as I looked around the bar for Paul. He beckoned to me from an empty table in the corner. I headed toward him, my legs shaking so badly I had to concentrate on every step.

Are you okay?" he asked worriedly.

"I'm fine." I set the beer down in front of him.

"Thanks for the drink."

"You're welcome. And thank you...for everything."

He didn't take the beer, and the panic inside me grew.

Drink it, drink it, drink it, drink it.

"How about a dance?" he suggested with a smile. "It's what we came for, isn't it? It might make us thirsty."

"I don't..."

"Come on." He got up and took my hand. To the people at the next table he said, "Watch our drinks, will you? I have to take this lady for a ride."

The older of the couple laughed. "Sure thing, guys. Have fun."

Paul smiled and led me to the dance floor. I wanted to run out of the bar, but I couldn't. Paul hugged me tighter, pacing himself to the slower beat of the group's next song. He rested his arm on my back, his other hand gripping mine, "I've been wanting to be this close to you all day."

I tried to smile, but failed, letting myself get carried away by the sway of the dance.

"I hope to see you again, Lara," he continued, his guard down. "The drawing you did. I hung it in my studio at home." He spun me around before I approached him again. "I don't think anyone has ever seen the real me before. It's something I've longed for since I was younger. My mother I don't remember much...but ever since I lost her, I've always had to find my own way in life. I didn't have anyone to teach me, to show me..." He hesitated, "But you saw. You have a gift. And you saw me. I will treasure it forever."

I could say nothing. Nothing, as each of his words shot like a bullet into my heart. I rested my head on his shoulder, losing myself in him, trying not to cry.

An image of the gun pointed at my uncle's head swam in my mind. The way he was shaking with fear, silently begging me to help him. Scott's laughter . His demands.

And the menacing way those who worked for him watched and waited for orders. I was out of my depth and then some, and the fire inside me cooled.

"Paul." I raised my head, not knowing what to say, only aware that I wanted to say something to him, to let him know that my reactions to him were not false. But before I could say anything, he pressed his soft lips to mine, enveloping me in his warmth.

I clung to his shirt, the bubbling heat threatening to consume me. I moaned against him sliding his tongue inside me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him close.

His hand tangled in my hair, holding me down so I could eat my dinner. And I wanted him to have dinner.

The song ended too soon, and before I could comprehend what was happening, Paul was leading me back to the table.