“My mother had taken all of the nice clothes my stepfather had bought for me and thrown them in her room. She’d accused me of trying to seduce him before I left for school that morning. That was the only thing I remembered initially.”
The pregnant pause hangs in the air like a turbulent summer sky about to erupt with thunder and lightning. I brace myself for the torrent about to come.
“He must’ve come home to find them and thought I discarded them. I still don’t have a lot of the details. But while I was in the hospital, the memory of Geoffrey storming into my room awoke me from my sleep. He’d been yelling about what an ungrateful little bitch I was. At first, I thought it was just a nightmare. It wasn’t necessarily the truth, just my mind’s way of distorting the facts.”
A small sniffle escapes. “Until the very clear image of him throwing me on the bed and forcing himself on top of me made me bolt upright.”
What the fuck!
“I know you want this. You’ve been begging for it for years. I’ve tried to hold back, but throwing a temper tantrum because you aren’t getting what you want is the last straw.” She spits out every line as if she’s replayed them for years.
My rage is building to a fevered pitch. But I try to focus on my breathing.
“Such a greedy girl, too beautiful for your own good,” she sneers. Her words come out wobbly as tears tumble down her cheeks. “I must’ve started screaming or crying, because I can remember him saying, ‘Shhh. Just this once. It will be our little secret’.”
I have to adjust myself beneath her, my fury is making it nearly impossible to sit still.
“Somehow, I managed to thrash around, hurting him just enough to get free. But I must’ve made a threat of some sort. Calling the police or telling someone… this is where the details get muddled. I only remember the blind rage on his face. Before he started slamming my head into the wall and things went black.”
As much as I want her to share the entire story with me, I can’t handle this anymore. Her entire body is wracked with sobs. “Baby, baby. I’m so fucking sorry.” Holding her face in my hands, my tears mixing with hers, I kiss and hold her until the shaking subsides. Well, hers anyway. I’m not sure thatmyinternal earthquake will ever cease.
It seems like an eternity that we stay wrapped up together. Once the fire has dwindled, I ease her sleeping form into the corner of the couch and stoke the logs. I try to put on a pot of tea, in case she wakes, but it’s really an excuse to pace while remaining close enough to go to her if she wakes.
She’s told me everything. Well, almost. There are a few more details I hope she’ll share. But it’s already the kind of story that makes my blood turn to fire. What she went through, what she survived. I’m already calculating how I can get Max to find out who this bastard is and end him.
After what seems like hours, she stirs.
I pull her back into my lap, trying to remain calm. “You okay?”
“I think so. I’m sorry.” She adjusts herself in my grasp.What the hell is she apologizing for?“I finally broke down and shared everything with Ellie and my friend, Betty. You’d think I wouldn’t still get so emotional about it.”
“First,neverapologize for what you’ve been through! Second, I’dbe more concerned if you hadn’t been emotional. That’s the way my mother has handled her situation. Her depression has made her lifeless and detached. You’re still alive. Physically and emotionally. And I’m so thankful. I’ll take emotional any day!”
I want to ask if there’s more, but I’m not sure how much more she can handle today.
She snuggles into me.
“Want some English Breakfast tea? I can put on another pot.”
“No, I just want you.” Five words have never meant more to me. She burrows into my side. “I can’t believe you made tea for me. And my favorite blend on top of that. What man does that?”
Nuzzling her neck, I give her a reassuring squeeze. “I’ve been making that tea for my mother for years. She’s always found it soothing. I thought it might help.”
Char reaches up, running the pads of her fingers over my jaw. Her beautiful green eyes hold mine.What is she thinking?
She begins to recount more details about her past, and while I’m grateful for her trust in me, I make a mental note to brace myself. “I was in the witness protection program after that. Once the police arrived to interrogate my mother and stepfather, he sent one of his cronies, who threatened to kill me unless I recanted my statement. Luckily, it happened across the street from a store security camera, so the police believed me.”
“Did you ever go to court?”
“No. He has more money than God. I knew the odds of him being convicted were slim to none. And that would only further anger him. My only concern was getting far enough away to feel confident he wouldn’t make good on his threat. Because I was certain he had the means to finish me off. And no one would be the wiser.”
My arms must’ve tightened to an uncomfortable level, as she shifts slightly before saying my name to get my attention. “Sorry. I can’t help it.”
“It’s okay. I understand.”
“Char,” my voice cracks.
“Yeah?”
