I hear movement in his room, and I brace myself for what is coming. "Hi," he says, and I make the stupid mistake of looking over my shoulder and seeing him in jeans and a black shirt. His hair is still wet from the shower he must have just taken.
"Hi," I say, turning back around to look forward.
"Did you just get home?" he asks, and I nod my head.
"Yeah, Grandpa just dropped me off," I say, putting the glass in the sink and then turning around. "I’m going to go change." I avoid his eyes. I avoid even walking next to him. The lump in my throat is stuck when I get into my room, and I close the door. It’s the first time I’ve done that with him in the house.
I slip into the shower, and I have to admit that I am stalling. I know he’s leaving. I know that tonight when he goes to bed, it will be someplace else. I turn off the water right before the stinging starts in my eyes, and I avoid looking in the mirror. I slip on my shorts that have blue clouds on them and match it with a baby blue long-sleeved V-neck shirt. I look at myself in the mirror and see that my blue eyes shine even more with this shirt.
I walk out, and I somehow wish he had just left without talking to me. "Hey," he says again, and I honestly don’t know what to do.
"Did you change your bandages?" I ask, walking to the kitchen and grabbing another glass. I need something in my hands so I don’t just stand here and look at him.
"Can you look at me, please?" he says, his voice low, and I take a deep breath and count to ten before looking up. I take a mental picture of him, but nothing beats him in real life.
"What is it?" I ask, standing in front of the island now, setting the glass down only because I’m afraid it will fall out of my hand and shatter.
"We need to talk," he says, and I laugh now.
"I’m pretty sure I know what you are going to say,” I say. "I got the hint when I walked in and saw your bag at the door." I don’t let him get a word in because I don’t think I can handle the bullshit coming out of his mouth. "When are you leaving?"
"Tonight," he says. "It’s easy to leave when it’s dark."
I nod now, pretending I know what the fuck he’s talking about. "Where are you going?" I want to kick myself. "Actually, you don’t need to answer that."
"Your uncle got me a house," he says.
"Well, then, I guess everyone wins," I say, looking at him. He puts his hands on his hips, and his head hangs down.
"This morning…" he starts, but I put my hand up.
"Forgive me,” I say. "For putting that on you." He looks at me, and I can see that his eyes have gotten darker. "If we can forget the past week happened." I swallow, but my mouth feels like it has a cotton ball in it. "We can just continue like…"
"Continue like you didn’t tell me you love me?" he says, his voice getting louder. "Continue like I haven’t had my lips on you? Continue like leaving this morning didn’t kill me?"
"Well, you left and didn’t look back, so we can go with that,” I say, sounding hurt, and I want to kick myself.
"What the fuck was I supposed to say?" He looks at me. "Sorry, Ethan, I’ll be right back. I just want to kiss your sister goodbye," he says, his voice calm. "Or maybe I could have said, Ethan, can you give me a second because I need to tell your sister that I can see what she means."
I look over at him. "What?"
"This morning," he says slowly. "Last night, I didn’t sleep." His eyes stare into mine. "The whole night you were in my arms, and I felt calm. I felt calm, and I felt at peace. I watched the stars all night long, and not once did I think of the darkness as evil. Not one time did I dread the next minute." I put my hand over my chest, hoping to calm down the beating. "Then this morning when we sat down and watched the sunrise, the same thing happened. I saw the fucking good. For once, I looked at the trees moving gently in the wind and thought it’s a good day." He looks down now. "Then as soon as I felt that, your brother shows up." He shakes his head, looking down and then up again, and I see the anguish all over his face. "Then your brother shows up, and just like that, I’m reminded that there is no happiness for me."
Chapter 23
Mayson
I look down as my heart beats in my chest. I think my heart stops when I look up and see the pain in her eyes, but it’s nothing like the pain I feel. "Then your brother shows up, and just like that, I’m reminded that there is no happiness for me." She looks down at her hands on the counter and rolls them around and around.
"Me here with you. Your kisses. Your touch. That is the happiest I think I could ever be." Might as well give it all to her. "Your smile." I look at her. "Your laugh, even your glare. Your touch." I close my eyes, pretending I’m close enough to touch her. Wishing I can do this with her in my arms. "Your kisses. Holding you in my arms. All of that makes me happy." My voice trembles now. "That is how I felt this morning walking out of here. But it was too good to be true. Because then there in black and white, I saw why I can’t have it. Why I’ll never ever get to have that happiness." My voice goes low with the last word.
"So I make you happy?" she asks.
"More than anything in the world,” I say. "You have to know that. You have to believe that." My stomach sinks with the thought of her not believing me.
She walks around the island now and comes over to me, sitting down at the far end of the couch. "Where are you going?" she asks with her hands in her lap as her foot moves up and down.
"Anywhere but fucking here,” I say. "As far away from you that I can get." Her head snaps back as if I slapped her in the face. "I will not let you be in the middle of this. I will not have this fucking touch you. Don’t you get that?" My hands are propped on my hips in anger now.
"No," she says, her voice cracking. "I don’t get it." She gets up now. "But it’s not my choice, now is it?”
"You think it’s my choice?" I ask, and I want to run to her and pull her in my arms. I want to kiss her and push the hair away from her face.
"We all have choices." She stands there being so fucking strong. "And you chose to leave me behind."
"Me leaving will protect you!" I shout. "Don’t you get that? Don’t you see?”
"How?" she asks the loaded question. "You leaving me leaves me open for anything. Leaving me alone for him to just come in and…" She stops talking now.
The words hit me like ice water thrown on me in the middle of the desert. "He was here." I confirm to her that he was the one who creeped her out. "He was fucking watching you." The burning in my stomach is now coming full force.
"So, he knows I’m involved in this?" she says, and I want to kick myself because she is right. "Is he still in town?"
"No," I answer. "At least, that is what they told me, but who knows."
"Well, then, I guess all the plans have been made," she says, turning to walk away from me.
"My father was fucking here!" I shout as I look up and rub my hands over my head. She turns, and I can see the sadness in her eyes. I put that there, me, me and my words.
"Yeah." Her voice is but a whisper. "And now he’s not. I’m going to go lie down." She starts to walk away, and I can see the tears in her eyes.
"I’m talking about my father. The man who killed my mother,” I say and see her face not even flinch when I mention him. "I’m talking about my father, who used my name to rack up tens of thousands of dollars in credit card debt." She doesn’t say anything, and it’s a good thing because I’m not finished. "I’m talking about my father, who married another woman and then beat her to death." I don’t stop even though I know I should. "I’m talking about my father, who tied me to a fucking tree and tortured me for five days." I ignore the tear running down my face and the tears running down her face. "So that is why I’m fucking leaving you."
"You leaving won’t change any of that." She walks over to me and stands right in front of me—my beautiful strong woman. I turn my head so the pain of looking at her will go away, but she doesn’t give me the out. She puts her hand on my cheek and turns my head to look at
her. "You are not your father. Would you hit me?" Just the thought alone makes rage fill my body. "Would you hurt your child?" I’ve never imagined having a child. I never gave myself the hope I ever would. It was a dream I buried so deep and was afraid to even think it. "You are not your father."
"I would never ever hurt you,” I say, my eyes staring into hers. "If anything happened to you because of me..." I swallow down the lump in my throat.
"Then don’t go," she says. "Don’t leave me."
I don’t have time to say anything to her as the front door opens, and her hand drops from my face. She moves swiftly to the other side of the living room, and we both look over to see Ethan standing there watching us.
"What is going on here?" he asks, looking first at me and then at Chelsea. I watch his eyes, and I know he knows something is up. He just hasn’t figured it out yet.
"Nothing," Chelsea says. "He was just telling me that his father was the one watching me." She folds her arms now over her chest. "And that he’s leaving to go somewhere else.”
"He’s going to stay at the Los Angeles house," he says, and I hold up my hand.
"I’m not fucking leaving here to go to LA." I put my hands on my hips.
"No, not LA," Ethan says. "It’s my uncle’s house. My aunt Olivia decked it out like an LA house. Everyone hates going over there, and Uncle Casey refuses to tell her, so he just keeps it for visitors."
"I don’t think that is a good idea," I say, and I’m shocked by my own words. "If I leave here, your sister is going to be left open."
"We’ll have eyes on her,” he says, and I shake my head.
"He’ll come for her just to get to me," I admit. "He knows she helped me. He knows I was here. That’s why he went after her before coming to get me."
"You really think he’ll use her?" Ethan asks me.
"Without batting an eye," I answer honestly. "He will come to her to get to me. Just to fuck with me."
"Fuck," Ethan says, running his own hands through his hair. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
"I hate to do this,” I say now. "You have no idea how much I hate to put her in this."
"I’m already in it," Chelsea says. "So now that we’ve got that out of the way."
"Tomorrow," Ethan says. "You start living your life."
"Meaning?" Chelsea says, looking at both of us.
"Meaning you go do what you do during the day, and Mayson gets his ass into the barn, and we find his father before his father finds him." She puts her hand to her stomach. "I’m going to talk to Casey and Dad and make sure we have someone shadow you." He looks at me, and I nod. "Now I have to get home. I promised I would give the kids a bath. Call me if you need anything," he says, and the door slams shut.
"I hate this," I admit. "I hate all of this."
"I know that I should," she starts, "and I don’t like your father at all. But…”
"But nothing." I shake my head now. "Don’t even fucking say it."
"Will you promise me something?” She looks at me, and she wrings her hands.
"Anything,” I say. I will give you anything, I say to myself only.
"That no matter what happens, you won’t lie to me," she says. "That no matter what happens, if shit is going to be bad, you tell me it’s going to be bad."
"It’s going to be bad,” I say. "It’s going to be bad because I will not stop until I kill him." I watch her eyes watching me. "That is who you think you love."
"If it’s a choice between you or him," she says without batting an eye. "There is not even a choice."
"I just told you I’m going to kill a man, and you didn’t even bat an eye." I point at her.
"Is that why you said it?" she asks. "To see if I would be shocked. I give up," she says. "I give up." She walks now and stops in front of me. "I give up trying to get you to see what I see." She gets on her tippy-toes and kisses my lips softly.
My eyes watch her now as she walks away from me. "You are the most beautiful person I have ever met." She stops in her tracks, and I see her head hang down. "This morning when I left here, I felt like I had concrete in my shoes." She doesn’t turn and look at me. But she moves her hand to her stomach. "From the moment I’ve seen you, you’ve been the woman I’m chasing in my dreams." I tell myself to shut up and just let her go, but something inside me just pushes forward. "Everything." I take a step forward, hoping she fucking turns around. "Everything was for you."
"How?" she says, turning around, and I see the tears running down her face. "How could leaving me be for me?" Her voice kills me. "How could you think that you leaving here would be for me?"
"Don’t you get it?” I look at her. "Leaving you would save you." I take a deep breath. "It would have saved you." I walk over to her now, my heart beating so fast in my chest I look down to see if you could see it. I stop in front of her, so close to her. My hand comes up, and I wipe the lone tear that has just fallen over her bottom lip. "It would have destroyed me," I admit, my fingers touching her face. My fingers are shaking as I touch her. "Not being able to do this again," I admit. "To touch you." I trail her cheek and then move down to her jaw. "Even if just for a minute, it would have destroyed me."
Chapter 24
Chelsea
My whole body tingles when he touches me. "Chelsea," he says in almost a plea. "I won’t survive if something happens to you."
"Are you staying?" I ask as his fingers touch my chin, and then he palms my face. His thumb rubs my bottom lip. "Are you staying here with me?"
I wait without breathing for his answer. "Yes," he says.
"Then I’ll be safe,” I say, putting my hands on his hips. "With you here, I’m safe."
"I don’t think I can go back," he says, licking his lips. "I won’t be able to go back and pretend you don’t mean anything to me." I look down, and the tears are coming now as my body shakes. "Chelsea." He says my name again, and it’s like music to my ears.
I look up at him and see he has his own tears in his eyes. "Don’t," I finally say. "Don’t go back." My hand comes up to cup his cheek. "I’m yours." I shrug one shoulder. "All of me is yours." I drop my hand and take the biggest risk of my life. "Make me yours." I hold out my hand now. "Make me all yours."
I slide my hand into his as I pull him toward my room. We walk into my bedroom, and I stand here in the middle of the room, right in front of the king-size bed that I picked out with the plush white carpet under my feet. I step up to him now as he looks around my room. A room I took my time picking things out for, secretly hoping for this moment right here. The whole back wall is white rustic wood. A wooden stepladder leans against the side wall with five blankets hanging from it. "I’m nervous," I admit, looking down, trying to calm my nerves down.
He shakes his head, coming to me, and when I look up at him, he pushes my hair behind my ears. "My palms are all sweaty," he admits and picks up one of my hands and places it on the middle of his chest. "I feel like my heart is going to rip through my chest." His heartbeat matches my own. "I’m afraid," he admits, his voice low. "I’m afraid I’m going to get a taste of you and then…" He looks down now, and his heartbeat speeds up. "I’m so afraid it’ll be the happiest day of my life, and then in a blink of an eye, it’ll be gone."
"Don’t let me go," I say, and I’m secretly begging him to never let me go. "I’m not going anywhere," I let him know, and he puts his thumb on the side of my face. He leans his face down, and his lips hover over mine. My whole body shivers from his touch, my stomach flutters just knowing he’s going to kiss me any minute. He turns his head to the side just a bit and slips his tongue into my mouth. My hand moves from the middle of his chest to wrap around his waist. I kiss him with everything I have. We kiss each other softly, our hands pushing ourselves even closer. My fingers roam from his hips to the hem of his T-shirt, slipping under it, and he lets go of my lips to put his head back. I lift his shirt now over his chest. I’ve seen and touched his chest before now, but something about touching him now makes my body come alive. "I don�
�t want to hurt you,” I say, my hands going to the bandage.
"You could never hurt me," he says. I bend forward and kiss him in the middle of his chest where his heart is beating erratically. "Chelsea,” he whispers my name, and I turn, going to the bed.
"Will you lie with me?" I stand by the bed, waiting for him to come to me. He walks over and puts his knee on my bed and pulls me with him. He lies in the middle of the bed, and I get on the bed beside him. With my hand on his chest, he leans up and kisses my neck, sucking it. My hand roams as his kiss goes from my neck to my ear. I turn now as he takes my mouth again. The kiss is stronger than before as he turns us both on our sides now. Our chests are pressed together just for a minute before he puts me on my back. My legs open for him to fit between.
He lets go of my lips as he trails kisses all the way from my cheek to my neck, my back arches when I think he’s going to cup my breast. I moan out in frustration when I can’t feel his kisses anymore. My eyes flutter open as I look down at him, pulling up the shirt, and then he bends his head and kisses the side of my stomach. "Every single inch of you," he says, "is going to be kissed by me." My hand comes up and goes into his hair as he pulls the shirt higher. He moves his kisses to my ribs as his tongue slips out now and slowly licks all the way up. My nipples are already hard, waiting for him.
"Mayson,” I pant out his name, my whole fucking body on edge. I just need to feel his skin on mine.
I need him to just rip my shirt off. He finally pushes it up, exposing my baby blue lace bra, which leaves nothing to the imagination. "Fuck," he hisses, cupping one of them while he bends to take the nipple in his mouth right through the lace.
I watch him move from one to the other and then slowly trace the top of my breast with his fingers before slipping them in and finally touching my nipple. He pushes the bra down and then slips his head down. Taking the nipple between his teeth, he bites softly, the pleasure shooting straight to my stomach and all the way to my core. "You’re fucking perfect," he says, and my eyes close now as he moves from one nipple to the other. I’m on edge, and he hasn’t even taken my shirt off.
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