Tempted Heir

by Michelle Heard

  I tell myself it’s the only way I could protect Dash and any future woman he might’ve gotten fixated on.

  At least we didn’t have contact with him. If he’s reported missing, the authorities and his family won’t come sniffing around us.

  Just like I never thought it could be him.

  Dash begins to stir, and we all instantly tense up.

  I rise to my feet and, leaning over her, I wait for her eyes to open. My heart begins to beat faster as her lashes flutter, and the instant her green irises focus on me, I say, “You’re safe, Dash. You’re not in the cabin anymore. We found you. You’re in your bedroom at your parents' house.”

  Her lips part, and a strangled sound escapes.

  I force a smile to my lips. “You’re at home. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

  The last sentence seems to get through to her because she begins to nod.

  Uncle Jax and Aunt Leigh move closer, and when Uncle Jax takes hold of her hand, Dash convulses, but when he begins to pull back, she whispers, “Don’t let go, Daddy. Don’t let go of me.”

  God.

  I brush my hand over her hair, my eyes burning with emotion. “How do you feel? Do you need something for pain?”

  Her eyes go to her Mom, instead of me. “Eight.”

  Aunt Leigh nods, and then she prepares an injection, which she inserts directly into the IV. “You’ll feel better in a second, baby.”

  Dash nods as her eyes drift shut. “Don’t let go, Daddy.”

  It feels as if my heart is being torn out of my chest as I straighten up and move back.

  Miss Sebastian places her hand on my back, and it has me shaking my head. Turning around, I leave the room so Dash will feel safe with her parents.

  Does she blame me for what happened? For not keeping her safe?

  I keep walking until I’m out of the house. Stopping under a tree, I lift my hands to cover my mouth as it sinks in.

  Seeing me is upsetting to Dash.

  The thought is hard to accept because I’ve always been the one she came to for comfort. I’ve always been her best friend, her person, her everything.

  And right now, I’m nothing.

  Miss Sebastian comes to stand next to me, and surprisingly she doesn’t say anything. After a moment, she wraps her arm around my lower back.

  Needing the comfort, I turn my body toward hers, and wrapping my arms around her, I hold her tightly.

  DASH

  I’m safe.

  I’m free.

  God, I’m safe.

  It’s all I can think of as I cling to Dad’s hand. Every time he moves, panic floods me, and it has me begging, “Don’t let go, Daddy.”

  “I won’t. I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.” Dad scoots closer until he’s leaning half over me. With his other hand, he brushes over my hair, and it makes me feel safe.

  The kind of safety I last felt as a five-year-old when I used to curl up on his lap and know the world can’t hurt me as long as he was there.

  I’m no longer in the cabin.

  The thought shudders through me like an earthquake, kicking up intense emotions that leaves me breathless and my heart racing.

  “Sweetheart?” Dad asks, concern etched into his face.

  “Don’t let go. Just don’t let go.” The words rush from me as my voice breaks. My fingers clamp around my father’s.

  “I won’t,” he assures me. “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

  I nod as my breathing begins to slow down again.

  Mom comes into the room carrying a bowl and spoon. It smells like soup.

  Chills spread over my body.

  ‘Tell me you’re sorry for what you’ve done and that you love me, and I’ll consider letting you eat.’

  Instantly the words fall over my lips, my voice quivering. “I’m sorry. I love you.”

  Mom gives me a warm smile as she comes to sit on the side of the bed. “I love you too, baby. Let’s get some food in you. Okay?”

  I nod fast, and as she brings a spoonful to my lips, my mouth opens on a sob. When the rich liquid spills over my tongue, my eyes drift shut.

  “Another bite,” Mom croons.

  I open my eyes and swallow every bite as fast as I can.

  Movement catches my eye, and then I choke. Agonizing coughs tear through me while my eyes remain glued to Christopher, where he’s standing in the doorway.

  ‘Do you really think you’d be able to get Christopher to marry you? He’d get tired of your fat ass always displaying every inch of skin. Men don’t share what belongs to them.’

  Mom helps me sit a little more up while my body jerks as if the belt is lashing at my skin. Pin prickles spread over me, making every inch of me come alive with pain.

  ‘Now tell me you love me.’

  “I love you,” I stammer, fear and panic suffocating me. Christopher takes a step closer, and it has me whimpering, “I’m sorry.”

  His face contorts with heartache, and before I can start begging for my life, Mom takes hold of my face, forcing me to look at her. There’s a deep frown on her forehead as she asks, “Why do you keep saying that, baby? Did it make him stop?”

  I nod feverishly while it feels like my mind has been torn in half.

  “Christ,” Dad groans, tightening his hold on my hand.

  Mom leans over me, and placing her hand behind my head, she holds me tenderly. “Shh…”

  The sound vibrates through me, tensing every muscle in my body until I’m pulsing with pain.

  ‘Shh… not a sound.’

  “Please,” I whimper.

  “Shh… it’s okay, baby,” Mom murmurs.

  My voice quivers as I beg, “Don’t make that sound.”

  “Okay… okay. I won’t.” Mom presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’ve got you. You’re safe. Okay? You’re safe.”

  I begin to nod, and lifting my free hand, I take hold of Mom’s white jacket. I cling to the fabric until I drift off.

  Chapter 23

  CHRISTOPHER

  “It’s not you,” Aunt Leigh says. “We need to start making a list of phrases to avoid using around her. I think they’re triggers for her.”

  “Which phrases,” I ask, my eyes not leaving Dash’s face.

  “I love you and shh. I think he said it often, and their meanings have changed for her. She now associates them with pain,” Aunt Leigh explains.

  That makes sense, and it explains why Dash lost it the first two times she saw me… but… what about the last time? I didn’t tell her I loved her then. I just assured her she’s safe.

  When Aunt Leigh moves away from the bed to take the bowl of soup to the kitchen, I step closer and sit down. Reaching for Dash’s hand, I hold it in both of mine while my eyes keep drifting over her.

  Her breathing changes, and then her eyes snap open. I instantly let go of her hand, and my body freezes. I don’t want to do something that will make her panic.

  “Daddy,” she whispers, and then a smile even tugs at her lips.

  The sight makes me breathe a little easier.

  “I’m still here, sweetheart.”

  “Thank you,” she breathes. Her eyes drift shut for a moment before they open, and then they turn in my direction.

  My muscles tighten from having to keep still, and then she whispers, “Christopher.”

  A smile spreads over my face and tilting my head, I keep my voice low as I say, “Hey, beautiful.”

  Heartache tightens her features. “I’m sorry.”

  I shake my head, leaning a little forward. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

  Dash swallows hard, and her voice is strained as she says, “I’m sorry for the things I said. I didn’t mean them.”

  Knowing she’s referring to the phone call, I take hold of her hand and press a kiss to her ring finger. “I know, beautiful. I know.”

  A tear spirals down the side of her face, and her eyes begin to look feverish. “Forgive me. Please.”

  “There’s no
thing to forgive.” I get up and move onto the side of the bed. Leaning over Dash, I press a kiss to her forehead, and it’s so fucking comforting to me, emotion wells in my throat. “Just rest so you can get better. Okay? It’s all that matters now. We just want you to get better.”

  She takes a deep breath as her eyes close. “So good.”

  “What’s good?” I ask.

  “Smell,” she mumbles. “You.”

  I watch as she falls asleep again. I kiss her forehead again, this time keeping my lips there for a moment, as I soak in the good moment we just had.

  Thank God.

  Moving back to the chair, I glance at Uncle Jax. There’s a smile playing around his mouth. “She was much better, right?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I agree, returning his smile.

  Mom went to my place to pack me a bag because I’ll be staying here until I can take Dash home.

  While she’s sleeping, I showered and had some of the soup Miss Sebastian made.

  My phone begins to ring, and seeing it’s Noah, I answer quickly. “Hi.”

  “Hey, how’s Dash?” he asks.

  “Better. She had a good moment earlier.” I hear Hayley in the background, then Noah says, “I’ll stop by before work. If she wakes up again, tell her I love her.”

  “That phrase seems to be a trigger for her,” I tell him.

  “What? I love you?” he asks.

  “Yes, she begins to panic whenever we say it,” I explain.

  “Oh. Okay. Tell Dash I’m thinking of her.”

  “Will do.”

  “Christopher,” he says before I can hang up.

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” A grin tugs at the corner of my mouth as I end the call.

  Getting up from where I was sitting at the kitchen table, I head back upstairs. When I walk into the room, I come to a sudden stop.

  Aunt Leigh is busy helping Dash stand up. Just seeing Dash move knocks the air from my lungs.

  “Hey,” I say, making sure to keep my voice low. “You’re up.”

  “Dash is being stubborn,” Aunt Leigh says. “She insists on taking a shower.”

  “I won’t be long. I just really need to shower,” Dash says. “Please.”

  “Can I help?” I ask as I move forward.

  Dash reaches a hand out to me, and it has me darting to her side.

  “You should rather take a bath,” Aunt Leigh says just as I take hold of Dash’s arm.

  I feel Dash tense, and she begins to shake her head. “No. Please. No.”

  Hearing the panic rising in her voice, I say, “It’s okay. You can shower.”

  “Can we place a chair in the shower?” Aunt Leigh asks.

  Dash nods. “Please.”

  Aunt Leigh’s eyes lock on mine. “Will you stay with her? Make sure her back doesn’t get too wet.”

  “Okay.” Leaning a little down, I catch Dash’s eyes. “Are you okay with me helping you?”

  She hesitates, and then Miss Sebastian comes into the room. Dash begins to move toward her. “Mamma G, will you help me shower?”

  “Of course, my godbaby,” Miss Sebastian moves closer, taking hold of Dash.

  I’m not worried that she doesn’t want me there while she’s showering. Feeling thankful for every step forward, I smile at Aunt Leigh. “Another win.”

  She comes to wrap her arms around me, and I hug her back. Then she whispers, “Another win.”

  DASH

  Miss Sebastian places a chair in the shower and turns on the faucets. When she’s happy with the temperature, she turns to me.

  “Do you need help, my godbaby?”

  I shake my head as I step closer to the water.

  Miss Sebastian sits down on the closed toilet lid, then says, “I’ll watch an episode of Shadowhunters while you shower. That Magnus Bane is just too delicious for words.”

  The corner of my mouth tugs up. This is why I wanted her to be here and not my mom or Christopher. They’d hover around me, and I understand why, but I can’t deal with it right now.

  I move slowly as I take off the bathrobe, and after slipping it over the IV cord and bag, I step into the shower.

  Miss Sebastian hangs the bag back on the stand and checks it before she sits down again.

  Gingerly, I take a seat, and then I turn my face up to the water. I let it spray over me until my face and back throb with pain. The ache spreads down my body, relentless and raw.

  I know Mom said not to get my back wet, but I need this.

  I need this.

  I begin to wash my body as best I can, but my movements are sluggish as if all my strength has been drained from me. It feels like my insides have been replaced with the harrowing nightmare which will haunt me for the rest of my life.

  There’s no escaping the memories. They’re etched deep into every part of me.

  The bruises sting and ache so much that my body starts to quiver.

  A sob breaks through my feeble barrier, and I quickly cover my mouth with the back of my hand to muffle the sound. Gulping in deep breaths, I fight for control over my chaotic emotions.

  How do you survive this kind of devastation? Do you ever heal from it?

  Right now, the pain is a sickening reminder of what happened to me, but even once it’s faded, I’ll still feel degraded.

  It feels as if Josh killed the happy woman whose dreams were coming true. He stole that from me.

  Once I’ve washed my whole body, every bruise is pulsing with pain and burning as if I’m on fire.

  I get up and turn off the water. Miss Sebastian holds a towel out to me, and I quickly wrap it around my body.

  Our eyes lock, and then she moves forward, pulling me into a tender hug. “I’m so sorry that happened to you. I’m here if you need to talk. Okay? You can tell me anything. I’ll just listen.”

  Nodding, I murmur, “It feels as if I’m still stuck in the cabin.”

  Pulling back slightly, she asks, “But you know you’re safe, right?”

  I nod again. “It’s just hard,” I try to explain.

  “I know, my godbaby. I know,” she coos.

  My body begins to tremble, and closing my eyes, I can’t keep the tears from flowing. Lifting my arms, I wrap them around my godmother while I rest my cheek against her shoulder.

  She’s careful where she touches me, wrapping an arm low around my back as she presses her other hand to the side of my head. “I’m here. Your Mamma G is here.”

  I drink in all the comfort she offers until I feel calmer.

  Pulling back, Mamma G helps me put on a clean bathrobe, and it has me asking, “Are any of my clothes here?”

  She nods. “Yeah, but let's hold off on those for a couple of days. Okay? Just until your wounds have healed a little more.”

  Nodding, I turn to the sink, and it has Miss Sebastian pointing at a toiletries bag. “Christopher brought it.”

  I stare at the familiar bag, and it makes a weird twinge spread through me. Sentiment?

  I’m careful as I brush my teeth, and when I’m done, I pat my mouth dry. I turn toward the door, and my eyes lock on my reflection in the mirror.

  Every bruise stirs a memory, and soon they’re flashing through my mind, like splinters of glass. Sharp. Cutting. Painful.

  Miss Sebastian takes hold of my shoulders and pushes me toward the door while she says, “They’ll fade. In no time, they’ll be gone.”

  But the memories will remain.

  When I walk back into the room, Christopher darts up from where he was sitting.

  I keep my eyes lowered as I move toward the bed.

  I can’t explain why I’m reacting the way I am toward him. I feel like I should be cautious. So, so very cautious.

  I know… deep down… I know he’ll never hurt me.

  ‘Do you really think you’d be able to get Christopher to marry you?

  The doubts have been planted. They were soaked in pain until they sprouted thorny branc
hes that tore everything I believed to shreds.

  I’m scared Christopher will see me the same way Josh did. Christopher is the kind of man who deserves a trophy wife on his arm.

  And I’m no trophy.

  I’m the best friend.

  I’m the girl you’re comfortable with.

  I’m not sexy. I’m not witty. I’m not brave and adventurous.

  I’m just the best friend. The one who’s there like a shadow you can’t get rid of.

  But I can’t stand the thought of losing him, so I’m cautious not to upset him in any way.

  I’d rather be his best friend than nothing. Or worse, a failure. A disappointment. Not good enough.

  As soon as I’m back in bed, Mom closes in on me. “Let me check your back.” She helps me lower the bathrobe in a way that keeps my front covered, and she moves my hair to the side. As she begins to dab something over my back, the burning sensation returns. “Let me know if it hurts,” Mom murmurs.

  Lowering my head, I stare at the white cotton fabric over my legs.

  The burning increases, and it’s as if a thousand fire ants are crawling over my skin. It has me clenching my jaw.

  “She’s in pain,” Christopher suddenly says, his voice tight with tension. He comes to crouch in front of me. “How bad is it?”

  I want to be stronger, but I can’t keep myself from whispering, “Nine.”

  “God, baby,” Mom breathes. She rushes to prepare an injection and insert it into the IV. Moments later, the burning eases, and the relief has my eyes drifting closed. “Better?” Mom asks.

  I nod. “Thank you.”

  Christopher doesn’t move from where he’s crouching by my legs and needing to touch him, my hand slowly moves toward him. His fingers fold around mine, and it feels so good it makes my breathing speed up.

  ‘You need to realize I’m the best you can do. I’m the only one who understands you.’

  The memory grates at me, and I duck my chin to my chest as a tear escapes.

  Christopher rises to his feet, and my body flinches from the sudden movement. Then his hand slips behind my head, and he carefully pulls me closer until my cheek is resting against his abs. He doesn’t do anything else. He just holds me while Mom works on my back.