Curing Erica's Phobia Ch. 03

"I doubt it's for Paris. That's probably why he didn't simply send you the ticket info. He would know his emails could be monitored. And wherever that ticket is to, it's probably only the first leg on a convoluted route to get you to where he's hiding," Joann replied.

"That's what I mean," Erica said in exasperation. "Why would he be taking these risks over me? Why would he expose himself like this? It doesn't make sense."

"Because he can't stay away from you," Eric said.

"What?" she said with a confused frown. "If he was in the human trafficking business, he could have any woman he wanted."

"Exactly. But he wanted you. He made himself vulnerable the minute he hooked up with you. His cover could have been blown any step along the way. Hell, he put you in the hospital, Erica. You could have exposed him then. But still he came back."

"But why?"

"Maybe it's the way you respond to his sadism. Maybe, in his own fucked up way, he loves you. It doesn't matter, because it's going to be his downfall. But right now, we need to get you to a safe house."

"No!" Erica insisted. "I'm telling you, if I leave, he'll know it and he'll know something is wrong. I have to do what he says, show up at the airport. Then you can find out where the flight is to and have Interpol looking for him there. And you can nab whoever he sends to watch me or meet me at the airport. Maybe get more information so you can to put him away for good."

"That will just get us a couple of flunkies. We need him to try to come back here. Just like we discussed," Eric added, for the FBI's benefit as well as hers. "He's hoping to avoid that by having you come to him. We need to make clear that's not going to happen. If he sends someone, they need to find you gone into hiding already."

Eric was staring at her. She was staring at her hands twisting in her lap. Joann looked at Agent Robbins. "Your call, chief."

"We're running out of time," Eric prodded.

"Safe House. Get her out of here," he snapped, obviously annoyed about something. He pulled out his phone as he went back into the outer room.

"No, I'm not going anywhere," Erica protested, but no one was listening to her. Eric was in her closet, pulling a suitcase down from the shelf and throwing random clothes in it even as Joann was gathering clothes from her chest of drawers. She tossed a sweat suit at her.

"Get dressed," she ordered as she headed into the bathroom for more things to pack.

In a fit of petulance, Erica tossed them back at the disappearing agent. "I said I'm not going anywhere."

Eric scooped the clothes up and held them out to her. "Ever hear of protective custody? Holding cell or safe house? Give you three guesses as to which one just might have wine available."

Erica snatched the clothes back. "Turn around."

"Really?" he asked with a smirk, but he went into the outer room. She grabbed some underpants out of the suitcase and dressed, pulling on her running shoes as Joann came back out of the bathroom with toiletries she dumped into a pocket of the suitcase, zipping it all up. Joann turned off the lights in the bathroom and bedroom, then Erica followed her into the outer room. She noticed that the techies and John were gone.

"Here's how it's going to go," Agent Robbins told her. We're going to turn off the rest of the lights and you and Eric are going to leave from the front of the building. If Juan's been watching at all, he would already suspect that Eric is the other man, so it would make sense for you to arrive with him and leave with him. The rest of us will leave through the back entrance to the empty apartment across the hall that we've been using. John is already out there. He'll follow you, watching for a tail. Once we're sure it's clear, you'll be taken to a safe house. And you will stay there," he added emphatically.

Erica glanced at Eric. He was holding her purse out to her. Alone, with him? She could feel the ball of panic. It always started at the base of her sternum, fanning up and out like a raptor unfurling its wings. He cocked his head at her. "Don't get scared. Get mad," Eric said very softly. Robbins glanced at him with a quizzical look, but Erica reached out and took the purse, then stepped carefully around him to leave. He took the suitcase from Joann and followed. "Don't look around," Eric said softly when they were on the stairs. "Let John be our eyes, okay? Just head straight for the car." Erica nodded, concentrating on her breathing. When they reached the sidewalk, she glanced at him. He was putting a Bluetooth earpiece in. He grinned at her. "Do I look really important?"

She smiled despite herself. "Right up until you look like you're just talking to yourself," she muttered.

His grin widened. When they reached the scruffy Toyota, he opened the creaky trunk and tossed the suitcase in, then just for show, opened her door for her, before climbing into the driver's seat. Once in the relative anonymity of the vehicle, he did a thorough scan using the mirrors and tinted windows. When he started the car and pulled onto the empty street, he continued to watch the mirrors closely, driving slowly and heading east toward the freeway. Erica stared out the side window, trying to time her breathing to the passing streetlights. "John's behind us," Eric said after a moment. He glanced over at her. "How are you doing?" She shrugged, not turning toward him. "Penny for your thoughts?" he asked as he pulled onto the freeway on-ramp.

She gave him a scathing sidelong glance. "I'm wondering if I've jumped from the frying pan into the fire," she said, cursing the fact that her voice sounded so weak and pathetic.

"You haven't," he said sternly. He merged into traffic that was flowing at speed, but still seemed heavy even in the middle of the night, heading for downtown Seattle. He tapped his earpiece. "Eric. Yeah, see anything? Good. I'm going to take the Union Street exit. Moving to the left lane now."

"Union is on the right," Erica pointed out.

He grinned at her. "I know."

"Oh, god," she muttered. "You're going to get us killed and save him the trouble?"

"This baby may look like she's on her last wheels, but she's got a secret under the hood," he replied, patting the dashboard. He eased his way over to the left lane. "Easiest way to see if we have a tail," he provided by way of explanation. As he neared the exit, he went back to his cell phone conversation. "Yeah, John, you ready?"

Erica grasped the armrest on the door and the side of her seat. "Are you seriously going to..." Then she was holding her breath as the car swerved sharply across four lanes and between cars to the exit. She didn't breathe again until they turned onto Union.

"John? No? Okay, great. Just waiting for the address of the safe house, now. Maybe we'll cruise the gut while we wait." He tapped his earpiece and ignored the scowl that Erica gave him. She settled back against the headrest, her eyes closed wearily. Eric glanced at her a couple of times. "You want some coffee or something?" He turned north on First Street. Erica only rolled her head from side to side. After a few minutes, he pulled into the drive through of a fast food place. "Erica. Do you want something?" he repeated.

"Yeah. To go back in time about three years," she snapped without opening her eyes.

He sighed and ordered a cup of coffee, picking it up from the window. He pulled into a parking space and removed the lid from the cup, then pulled his phone out and swiped till he reached the contact he wanted. "Growing old here," he complained when the connection completed. He paused a moment, then said, "That's funny, we must have a bad connection. I thought you just gave me an apartment number. No, no! What part of safe 'house' do you not understand? Jesus! I don't want to hear that budget shit!" He poked the earpiece and tossed the phone into the console. Then he drank nearly half of the hot coffee, before replacing the lid and putting it into a cup holder. He gripped the steering wheel for a moment before starting the car and pulling back out into traffic on First Street. Erica appeared to be asleep, but he wasn't fooled. Her breathing was much too fast. She was edging toward another panic attack and he suspected that her fatigue was the only thing keeping her from falling over the edge. He headed northwest toward Queen Anne Hill.

By the time he had climbed up to the address that he had been given, Erica eyes were open and she was looking down on Elliott Bay, seeming somewhat calmer. Eric found the small apartment building, only six units, and felt a little better about security. He parked in the space marked for unit six, and looked up at the unit. There was one light on, which was promising. He looked over at Erica. "Ready?"

"No," she said, steadfast in her contrariness.

Eric just grinned and got out of the car, circling to the trunk for her suitcase, then to her door to open it and hold out his hand. She only glowered at him, climbing from the car. Eric gestured for her to lead the way, pointing toward the second floor end unit. Erica climbed the stairs slowly. When she paused outside the apartment door, Eric knocked and smiled encouragement at her. She rolled her eyes. A woman opened the door and let them in, without any comment or request for identification or anything. Erica stared at her, but Eric seemed unfazed, taking the key from the woman and letting her out, then locking the door behind her. It took him only a moment to find the master bedroom, deposit her suitcase therein and, when she still stood just inside the main door, encourage her to move to the master bedroom by subtly threatening to physically help her along the way.

He pointed to the bed. "Lay down. Even if you can't sleep, you need to rest. What can I get you? Water?"

"You can leave me alone," she said, sounding more weary than firm.

"Done," he agreed, pulling the door shut behind him. For a moment, Erica only stared at the bed, but then she hit the light switch and fell on the mattress, not even taking her shoes off.

****

Erica awoke a few hours later to a quiet commotion in the outer room and people shushing each other. She pulled the pillow over her head, but then something fell in the kitchen and she jumped, her heart pounding, and she knew she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. She stumbled to the bedroom door and peeked out. John and Joann were in the kitchen, putting away groceries. She didn't see Eric anywhere. "Don't you people ever sleep?" she complained.

Joann left John to finish and crossed the room to her. "Were you able to sleep at all?" she asked.

"Some," she said with a shrug. "Where's Eric?"

"We sent him home with that rusted hulk of a car. It's not exactly Queen Anne material. I don't even live in Seattle and I can figure that out. Come have some breakfast. You want an egg or something?"

"I usually just eat some granola. Can I go to work?"

"Oh, hell no," John said from across the room. "You're supposed to be in hiding. Eric mentioned granola. Don't know if this is the right brand, but my wife likes it. Just looks like squirrel food to me. He also mentioned Mocha, so I picked up a cup this morning. Just let me know if it needs to be warmed up," he said, pushing a Starbucks cup across the counter.

"So going for a run is probably out of the question, too," she said with dismay.

"Just give us a couple of days," Joann assured her. "We're checking all the airlines. He must have put the ticket in your name if he told you to bring your passport. That's his first mistake. I hate to say it, but I think Eric was right. He's reacting, not acting, so he's not being careful, not thinking about what he's doing. We'll trace the payment. We'll get the bastard."

Erica looked at her in surprise. In her officious pantsuits, she hardly seemed the sort to spout profanities. She smiled to herself, wondering if Eric would have reprimanded her for the language. Joann seemed to outrank him, though Erica had no idea how the task force worked. And she couldn't help wondering how much Eric told her about what had happened between them? She knew she sure as hell wasn't going to discuss how stupid she had been to trust someone who turned out to be no better than Juan. People were supposed to learn from their mistakes, not keep repeating them.

Erica shuffled across the room and sat on a stool at the counter to sip the coffee and pick at the granola. "What am I supposed to do all day," she complained.

"There's a TV," John pointed out.

Erica just rolled her eyes. She finished her granola and coffee. "I'm going to take a shower. A very long shower."

When she emerged almost an hour later, only Joann was left in the apartment. More out of boredom than hunger, she went to the kitchen to see what food had been stocked. Joann followed her and sat at the counter. "I think it's time to talk about what happened between you and Eric."

Erica was peering into the refrigerator. She scowled as she found a bottle of juice and opened it, but when she turned back to the agent, she had carefully composed her face. "What did he tell you?" she asked.

Joann smiled. "You know that's not how it works. You tell me and he tells me, and I compare stories. Erica, this is important."

Erica turned away from her and leaned against the counter, drinking from the bottle. "He didn't do anything to me that I didn't want, save maybe nagging me about where and how I ran in the morning."

"He called me on Sunday and told me that he'd done something to upset you. You didn't disagree when I told you that Monday morning," Joann pointed out.

Erica shook her head. "It wasn't something he'd done. It was something he'd failed to reveal."

"What?"

"You need to talk to him about that."

"I'm talking to you because you are the one that was upset."

Erica turned back toward her. "In case you haven't noticed, a hell of a lot of things upset me. Panic is my middle name. The only reason I can be this close to you without my heart leaping into my throat is because there is a counter in between us. Look, Eric annoys the hell out of me. He likes to push my buttons. So do the rest of you," she accused. "That's a cop thing, obviously. The thing is, all my buttons are panic buttons. I found out something, it made me panic. I don't do fight or flight. All I know how to do is flight. Anyone else would have shrugged, or asked him about it, or maybe even have gotten pissed at him about it, but I ran. It's what I do." She turned on her heel and strode back toward the bedroom.

"So you'll be fine if he stays here with you tonight?" Joann asked.

Erica stiffened, her hand on the bedroom door knob. She turned partially back toward the agent. "As annoying as he is, I would feel safe with him here. And that's the whole idea, right?"

"Right," the agent agreed. Erica turned back toward the bedroom. "Erica, look at me."

She made no effort to hid the fact that she was taking a deep breath before she turned to face the agent. Joann pinned her with a piercing stare. "Did Eric have sex with you?"

Erica stared back, feeling brave given the distance she'd put between them. "He did nothing to me that I didn't ask him to do." She turned quickly and opened the bedroom door, but not quick enough.

"If he had sex with you, that raises ethical questions. You're vulnerable."

Erica squeezed her eyes shut and took another deep breath before turning back to the agent. "Exactly. Do you think I could stand getting close enough to someone to have sex with them?"

"Juan," was all that Joann replied.

"Juan beat me as foreplay. Eric never did anything that hurt me. So how could he have gotten close enough to me?" She turned on her heel and entered the bedroom, almost slamming the door behind her.

****

At some point, Erica managed to fall asleep and recoup some of the lost hours from the previous night. She was mostly just staring at the ceiling, though, when someone knocked on the bedroom door. She climbed off the bed and went to open the door, finding Eric there. "We've got some dinner here," he said, giving her an appraising look.

"Already?" she said, trying to look past him.

"Two reasons. I heard you skipped lunch..."

"I fell asleep," she said, in no mood to get lectured by him as well as Juan about her eating habits.

"Fair enough. The second reason is that Joann volunteered to cook, but she needs to get out of here and get some rest herself. If you'd rather trust my microwaving skills, then we can eat some processed food-like substance later."

"Fine," she said, pointedly waiting for him to back away before trying to squeeze through the small space he left in the doorway. She saw a faint grin play across his face as he backed up a couple of steps. Erica took a few steps into the outer room just as Joann was pulling a hot dish out of the oven and the delicious smell was wrapping itself around her like a warm blanket. She stared in wonder. "You made lasagna?"

"That's my cure for the boredom of safe house sitting," the agent confessed. "You want to grab some plates?"

In short order, the three of them were sitting at the small table in the corner of the room, feasting on the lasagna and garlic bread. When they had finished, Eric volunteered to take care of the dishes, claiming it was his only kitchen skill, other than running a can opener or microwave. When the sound of running water would drown out their conversation, Joann turned to Erica. "I'm going to be leaving in a minute. This is your last chance to request a different roommate for the night."

Erica glanced over at Eric, conscientiously loading the dishwasher and shook her head. "It's okay." She shrugged. "I really do feel safe when he's around. It's like having a big brother that teases you all the time, but you know he's going to have your back on the playground."

Joann snorted. "Not the analogy I would have chosen, but if you're sure. You have my number still?"

Erica nodded. "It's in my purse."

Erica rose to go into the bathroom off her bedroom. When she returned, Joann was in the kitchen with Eric, jabbing a finger into his chest. Whatever she was saying was cut off as he looked over and saw Erica in the doorway. Erica hid a smile as she watched the relatively petite agent apparently reprimanding the much taller, broader detective. Joann cocked a warning eyebrow at Eric before she picked up her purse and turned to leave. As she passed, she told Erica, "I will see you in the morning. Call me if you need something."

"I don't have my cell phone," Erica mumbled.

"It's at your apartment, in case Juan tries to trace it. You can use Eric's or the landline. Right?" she said, turning toward him.

"Absolutely," he said with a grin.

Erica watched the FBI agent leaving, wondering if she had made a mistake. Eric's grin seemed so cocky, so self-assured. Like he knew she wasn't going to reveal anything about him, just like a good submissive. Is that what she was? Just a good submissive? To Juan, to Eric, to anyone who came along with just enough self-assurance to cow her into submission?

When Joann had left, Eric came around the kitchen counter toward her. Erica quickly shut the bedroom door and backed away, sitting on the edge of the bed, wringing her hands. There was only silence from the outer room; a silence that became more ominous as the minutes passed. When she couldn't stand the suspense any longer, she tiptoed to the door and opened it. Eric was leaning against the wall right outside with a wine glass in his hand. He held it out toward her. She took it with both hands, avoiding touching his fingers. He gave her that grin again.

"Come sit out here. We'll put a Netflix movie on and just sit and watch," he said. "Clothes on and everything." Grin.

Erica scowled at him. He made an abortive attempt to wipe the grin off his face. "Seriously. Just a movie. Just something to pass the time. I've got some coffee brewing for myself." He raised his hands in the air and backed away from her toward the kitchen. "Or if you want, you could give me a chance to explain Sunday." He gave her a speculative look. "Nope," he answered his own question. "Too soon. Movie it is. What do you feel like watching? Action, adventure, chick flick, porn?"