Breathing Ch. 04

bytheonlinestalker©

"No one," Sonya echoed. "Are you sure? Maybe it's important."

The smile that he gave her caught him off guard as he took the final step, landing him directly in front of her. His hand moved slowly around her wrist, swiping his thumb over her wrist. "I'm sure."

"Um—"

"Don't worry about it. It'll stop soon," he whispered as he leaned forward. His lips were inches from hers. So close that she could feel his breath ghosting against her face. Sonya's eyes closed and for the first time she could feel the heat radiating off of him.

Cold metal touched her palm, and she opened her eyes again watching the same expression cross his face as he closed her fingers around the object.

"Keep the key," he whispered. "Consuela will probably lock it again. This way you already have it," he answered turning around and going back to check his email.

"Yeah," Sonya whispered looking at his retreating back. "Thanks."

And with that said, she turned around and walked swiftly back to the bathroom. The sound of the door closing was like a nail in his coffin.

****

Half an hour later Sonya emerged from the bathroom wearing a pair of her favorite pajamas. The pink and black plaid pants accentuated her butt perfectly while the pink tank top hung loosely against her chest. She had expected to see Trenton sitting at his desk, but was surprised to see that he was no longer there. Her coffee colored eyes scanned the room for the first time since she had stepped foot inside it.

She had always been a big believer in Karma. So part of her was resigned to her fate while the rebellious side clawed at her to be let out. Even as she felt the panic that started to form in her she realized that it was short lived. Karma sometimes got it wrong. The Universe wasn't the, be all know all she reasoned. If it were then Sean would be with her and she wouldn't be in some stranger's bedroom.

There was a touch of elegance that she hadn't seen amongst the large leather sofas in the living room. A modest comforter was placed on the bed, accentuated by three large pillows. Sonya wanted to smile at the thought of seeing him lying between the pastel blue of his pillow cases.

"At least there are no flowers," she whispered to herself.

If there was one thing she hated when it came to furniture or bedding of any kind, it was a floral pattern. This however was nice and subtle. The baby blue of the pillows a nice contrast to the midnight shimmer of his satin comforter.

Curious eyes shifted to the left where his desk sat. The wood was a dark color that resembled a mahogany. That must have been his doing. Even though she didn't know him he seemed the type to get his way if he deemed it necessary.

Quiet assailed her ears for the first time since she had been in her palace sized prison. Nibbling at her bottom lip, Sonya took one small step towards the door before stopping at the sound of her slippers hitting the hardwood floor. Her breath caught in her throat as she listened for any other movement.

Ten seconds passed without another noise being heard.

Then thirty—

Forty five seconds.

Finally satisfied that she was alone for the first time in days, she quickly shuffled towards the bedroom door. The gentle flap of her maroon slippers the only indication anyone was home. Stopping right before the door she stared as if it was the iron gates out of hell. Her hand slid to the door knob, testing it out. In the back of her mind she was ready for it to burn her hand, warning her to turn around and stay put.

Taking a deep breath, Sonya slowly turned the doorknob and pulled. The soft groaning of the door was like a gavel hammering down on her.

Her early assumption had been wrong as the aroma of bacon hit her nose. The scent caused her to pause briefly, remind her that it had been awhile since she had eaten. As if confirming her thought, Sonya's stomach rumbled its approval.

Eyes as dark as midnight cast its gaze down at her stomach, frowning as she silently told hit that food wasn't important right now. If she were lucky she could sneak to another part of the house. Surely he had something sharp.

Turning her back to the wafting smell of fried deliciousness Sonya was stopped in her tracks by the baritone timber of her 'Warden'.

The thought of betraying Trenton's trust saddened her, but the emotion was not strong enough to force her to reconsider. The hallway was dark, with shadows bouncing off random objects caused from the skylight above her.

"What are you doing?"

The accusation in Trenton's voice was undeniable. She had been caught with her hand in the metaphorical cookie jar. Shifting slightly on her feet, Sonya turned her head to look at him. His appearance was much more causal than earlier. The stone washed jeans he wore hung low on his hips, covered in what appeared to be batter.

Moving her eyes up Sonya couldn't help but notice the light dusting of hair on his chest. And for a second her heard sped up, but just like all the other times she'd felt herself reacting positively she cut the string to that particular emotion.

"Do you always cook without a shirt?" she asked harshly, deflecting his attention from what she had been trying to do.

"Do you always sneak around other people's houses?"

"I wasn't sneaking. I thought I smelled bacon."

Taking a step towards her he frowned. "You did smell bacon. And my shirt is off because I had a—pancake accident. I was coming to get a shirt when I saw you," he explained.

"Oh," she whispered. "Wait, pancake accident?"

"Yeah," he laughed. "Come with me."

"I was just going to go—"

"With me," he cut her off, grabbing her arm securely in his grip, but not so hard it would hurt her.

"Trenton!" she yelled.

"Sonya!" he yelled back in mock anger, but the smile on his face told another story.

Seconds later they were both standing in his bedroom again. Her arms folded securely over her chest as she watched him walk towards his dresser. With his back to her she slowly took off her flip flops. The cool texture of the hardwood floor against her feet was a shock to her system, but she couldn't let that deter her.

Turning her eyes back to Trenton, she took one step then another towards the open door. If she was lucky she could get to a phone and call her mom. Or better yet she could call Cameron and beg her to take her in instead.

"Where do you think you're going?"

The question caused her to release a very unlady like curse from her mouth. In her attempt to escape she had gotten so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't even noticed him turn around. He now wore a blue t-shirt that matched his eyes. But as she looked into those swirly orbs she noticed that there was no expression currently gracing his face. There was no anger or pity, just a blank wall.

"Nowhere," Sonya answered. "I—was just—pacing. You were taking a long time perusing through your clothes and I haven't eaten in a long time."

Helping her prove her point, her stomach rumbled loudly. Sonya sent up a silent thank you as she watched Trenton's face soften. "Sorry. I'm done. Let's go get you some food."

"Okay. Thanks."

And just like that she was being escorted to the kitchen. All thoughts of escape temporarily put on the back burner.

****

Trenton's body vibrated at being so close to her, but then the look in her eyes stopped him from making the biggest mistake in his life. Placing the key into her hand, he took a step back.

"Keep the key. Consuela will probably lock it again. This way you already have it," he answered turning his back and going back to check his email.

He tried his best to ignore the confused look on her face, or the way his body felt just leaving her alone in the middle of his floor. The sound of her soft footsteps walking back to the bathroom caused his body to relax with each step. It wasn't until the soft click of the door closing echoed through the room did Trenton release the breath he had been holding.

If he wasn't safe she would drive him crazy. And if there was one thing Trenton Sinclair never did was allow a woman to play with his emotions. It was merely guilt drawing him towards her. He had found her in a pool of her own blood. That alone was enough for him to want her near. In some way he had begun to feel responsible for her life.

The fact that she kept looking at him with pain in her eyes didn't help either. He wanted to be able to erase that look from her eyes. To know that he wasn't the reason it was there.

"Shit," Trenton whispered out loud. He needed to do something to get his mind off of her. Breakfast. He could make breakfast, he hadn't eaten in hours, and since he had given his housekeeper the week off it would keep him occupied.

Turning his head towards the door once more, he frowned and sent up a silent prayer that she would be okay, and walked out into the hallway. With one last glance he closed the door and headed towards his kitchen.

Once inside the enormous kitchen Trenton began pulling out the ingredients he'd need.

"Everyone loves bacon," he smiled. "And pancakes. Yeah, she'd like pancakes."

With a whistle he poured batter and milk into the mixer and pressed the first button he saw.

Ten minutes later

"Stupid pancake mix," he grumbled. "How does Consuela do this every day? Electric mixers are stupid," he complained.

Looking down at his shirt, he cursed as he watched batter run down his brand new Ralph Lauren button down.

Trenton's hands moved quickly, undoing the buttons until the shirt lay open. Taking it off, he flung it to the ground and began walking towards his bedroom. It was then that he saw Sonya walking towards his living room.

"What are you doing?"

He watched as her body stiffened and then watched as she slowly turned around. His eyes roamed over her pink pajama top slowly working its way to the flip flops that were on her feet. Her feet were shuffling back and forward nervously giving away the fact that she was up to no good. What was he going have to do to keep her safe? Handcuff her to his bed?

The thought was quickly discarded as he looked into her angry eyes.

"Do you always cook without a shirt?" he heard her ask.

"Do you always sneak around other people's houses?"

"I wasn't sneaking. I thought I smelled bacon."

Taking a step towards her he frowned. "You did smell bacon. And my shirt is off because I had a—pancake accident. I was coming to get a shirt when I saw you," he explained.

"Oh," she whispered. "Wait, pancake accident?"

He hadn't wanted to remember his incident in the kitchen. How was he supposed to know that putting a mixer on high would make such a mess? It also didn't help that he filled it up completely to the top thinking that it would help him make more pancakes.

"Yeah," he laughed. "Come with me."

"I was just going to go—"

"With me," he cut her off, grabbing her arm securely in his grip, but making sure he wasn't hurting her with his firm grip

"Trenton!" she yelled.

"Sonya!" he yelled back trying his best not to laugh at how childlike she sounded.

As he stepped into the bedroom he released his grip on her arm and walked over to his dresser. His eyes were glued to one shirt in particular. It was a gift from Melissa. Seeing it staring back at him reminded him that he had a girlfriend. A very beautiful girlfriend. Who gets on his very last nerve, he reminded himself.

She had called him a total of fifteen times since he had arrived home. It didn't help matters that each time he had allowed it to go to voicemail. He hadn't wanted Sonya to hear him talking to her. How messed up was that he thought. He didn't want the complete stranger in his house to hear him having a conversation with his girlfriend because then she might get upset. The irony was not lost on him, that he cared more for the mocha goddess in his bedroom.

"Mocha goddess," he laughed as he pulled on a blue graphic tee. Turning around to face Sonya he noticed that she had slowly inched her way to the bedroom door. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Fuck," he heard her whisper as she turned around slowly. He would have to watch her more intently if she was this bold.

"Nowhere," Sonya answered. "I—was just—pacing. You were taking a long time perusing through your clothes and I haven't eaten in a long time."

"Sorry. I'm done. Let's go get you some food."

"Okay. Thanks."

"After you," Trenton bowed making a show of allowing her to go in front of him. He watched as Sonya tensed and then began to walk towards the kitchen. The loud clapping of her flip flops hitting the floor were unmistakable now. She didn't care who heard her now. After all that work she had still been caught and forced to walk around with him.

"HOLY—"

"It's not that bad," he cut her off.

Sonya's eyes landed on the gourmet style kitchen with a shocked expression on her face. Sitting on the counter was a blue mixer and bowl. At least she thought it could be blue. It was hard to tell with all of the beige and white batter covering it. This was just like watching a car accident on a highway except the cars were a mixing bowl and pancake mix. So this is what he meant by pancake accident.

"Not that bad," Sonya almost shouted. "What do you call good?"

"I didn't burn down the kitchen," he smiled as if that was a feat to be proud of.

Quickly Sonya's head snapped toward the stove and oven. When she saw that neither one had been turned on she let out a sigh of relief.

"You didn't start the oven so that's good," she said thoughtfully.

The sight before her was pure chaos. If she didn't know any better she'd think that a child had helped him with breakfast, but there was no one around but the two of them.

When Sonya didn't say anything Trenton looked at his surroundings. There was batter dripping from the counter onto his Italian stonework. In his attempt to make pancakes he had panicked and forgotten the bacon that was cooking. To him it was good enough but at closer inspection, it was garbage bound.

"It didn't look this bad when I came to get a shirt."

Trenton watched Sonya as she walked towards the mess. Her eyes never leaving the spills that flowed throughout the kitchen. No doubt she was trying not to fall.

Finally her eyes looked up and met his. "I'm going to make you breakfast," Sonya finally announced.

"I couldn't do that. You're my guest," Trenton started. "I wouldn't feel right making you make your own meal while I just sat her."

Laughing for the first time since they arrived, Sonya picked up a clean sponge and pushed it towards his chest. "Who said anything about you sitting down? You're cleaning up this mess."

"But—"

"And once you're done you can help me cut up some vegetables. You have vegetables right?"

"I'm not giving you a knife?" Trenton blurted out. In that instance the mood changed and everything went back to the awkward silence that smothered them earlier.

After what felt like hours Sonya nodded her head, "Fine. You can cut them up, and I'll instruct you."

"What are we making?" he asked hesitantly.

"Omelets"

"You can cook?"

Smiling Sonya pointed to his mess, "I don't think you have the right to ask me if I can cook."

"Touché," he laughed.

And so the two set off on their tasks. Sonya with her cooking and Trenton with cleaning up the mess he had made. It was the first time either of them had let their guard down. Something Trenton hoped she did more often while she was there.

****

The rest of breakfast went down without a hitch. Sonya had put in the chopped up green peppers and mushrooms to their omelet while effortlessly cooking the bacon and pancakes at the same time.

"How did you learn to cook so well?"

"Sean—," she paused, looking down at the spatula in her hand.

Her eyes watered as she said his name. She had once again betrayed him. Here she was laughing and carrying on with a total stranger. She had forgotten about him. What kind of person did that? Forgot about the man they were supposed to love with all their heart. She was practically throwing herself at him.

"Sonya, there's nothing wrong with having a good time. You aren't bringing shame to him because you don't spend every waking hour thinking of him. Punishing yourself for something that isn't your fault," Trenton whispered.

"How would you know Trenton? You don't know shit about me. So don't tell me what I should or shouldn't do. Or how I should feel," she yelled at him.

"Okay. I'm sorry," he whispered again.

"And how dare you say that I'm punishing myself. "

Placing his fork on the counter Trenton looked at her for a second. "Aren't you?"

Before she could utter another word the doorbell rang. The sound was just as harsh and demanding as the conversation going on between the two of them. Even if the hostility was only coming from one side. No one made to move towards the sound which caused the person on the other side of the door to ring it again, this time holding it down a little longer.

"Come with me," he whispered.

"Yes, Warden," Sonya murmured under her breath.

Trenton pretended that he hadn't heard her comment as he walked a couple steps in front of her. The silhouette on the other side of the door made him pause. It was definitely a woman. "Shit."

Maybe after all of those ignored calls, Melissa had decided to just stop by. How was he supposed to explain what Sonya was doing there? The same woman he had claimed to not know the day before.

Walking the last few feet he slowly pulled open the door to greet the person on the other side, but wasn't given the chance as Cameron pushed her way past him.

"It's about damn time. What took you so long?"

"CeCe!"

"Sonya," she yelled back at her friend. "I'm so glad that you're okay. I was so scared."

"I know."

"Please don't do that again," she gasped through the tears that had started to fall.

"Oh CeCe. Please don't do that."

"I can't help it. If I had just paid attention and not left you alone for some fucking date—"

She couldn't even finish the sentence as the words caught in her throat.

"I brought someone with me," she said pulling away from her best friend.

"Who?" Sonya asked confused.

"What you mean 'who?'"

"Mom?"

"Who else would it be?" she smiled.

Looking blankly at her mom Sonya turned and walked away. She didn't know whether she was happy or angry at her right now. She had given her to a stranger. As cliché as that sounds it was true. Her own mom had allowed a complete stranger to take her into his home. And while he wasn't a serial killer or rapist, he was still someone she did not know.

"Sonny," her mom called.

Hearing that name set every hair on body ablaze. Had she not asked them not to call her that? Why did they insist on rubbing her face in the dirt and then act surprised when she came up swinging?

"Didn't I ask you to stop calling me that?" Sonya asked her mom without turning around.

"Well yes, but—"

"And still you do it," she asked turning to face her. "Why? What did I ever do to you?"

Her mother took a step towards her, hand raised to her mouth, "Nothing. Son-Sonya, I love you. I just forgot. I'm sorry."

"Are you? You find out I'm in the hospital. That I tried to—that I hurt myself. And you just decided 'I'll let this nice strange man take on my burden.' Thanks mom," she hissed as she stared into her mother's eyes.

"It wasn't like that at all!"

"Really?"

Seeing where this was going Cameron stepped in and placed a hand on Theresa's shoulder. "Why don't we go see what that smell is in the kitchen? I don't know about you but I could eat a couple horses.

"Yeah. Let's go do that," Theresa whispered seeing the pain on her daughter's face. Each time worse than the last time she had spoken to her.

Sonya's eyes followed the two women as they walked down the hallway. The touch of a hand on her shoulder forced her to avert her attention. Trenton was there standing beside her. The look in his eyes was soft and gentle and she couldn't help it when she found arms wrapping around him. His hand slowly came up to stroke her straight locks as she sobbed into his chest.

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