TRUTH

by Sherri Hayes

  Stephan

  I had no idea what happened. One minute she was aroused and on edge in the best way, and the next she was lost in one of her panic attacks. I had been standing behind her, and maybe that had been the problem, but I’d touched her from behind before and she’d been fine. She had trouble when I attempted to spoon her at night—often waking up scared. Never once, however, had she reacted negatively while she was fully awake and aware of her surroundings.

  It took a while for her to calm down, but eventually, she did. We were going to be late to Richard and Diane’s, but that was the least of my concerns at the moment. I’d sent my aunt a text. It was the best I could do given the circumstances. I needed to know what had happened and why. Brianna had managed to tell me she’d heard voices. Just getting that much out had been challenging for her.

  Her hair was still slightly damp as I ran my fingers through it. I loved touching her hair. It was soft, and the motion seemed to calm her as much as it soothed and relaxed me. We needed to get to the bottom of this, however.

  “Do you think you can tell me what happened now?”

  Her fingers dug into my back in response.

  “Sit up and look at me.”

  She retracted her fingers one by one and sat up to face me. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying.

  Placing my hands on each side of her face, I leaned in and gave her a chaste kiss. “I want you to keep looking at me and tell me what happened. You are right here. With me. You’re safe. No one is going to hurt you. Do you understand?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “Good girl.” I kissed her again, keeping it short, even though it was always tempting to get carried away.

  Making myself pull back from her, I sat and waited. I would wait all day if that was what it took, but I was confident that wouldn’t be the case. Brianna had an inner strength I admired and, in some ways, envied. When I’d lost my parents, I’d fallen apart inside. No one had been able to reach me for months. I’d been a walking zombie.

  My family and Logan never gave up on me, and eventually, they’d helped me through to the other side. Even then, I’d shut out most people. Daren was the first person I’d told what had happened other than Logan, and the only reason Logan had found out was because he was there right after it happened. Logan had seen firsthand what losing my parents had done to me. It took me years to get over it, to move past the pain and anger.

  Losing my parents paled in comparison to what the woman in front of me had lived through, yet she never gave up, never stopped trying. I knew I would never stop loving her.

  I brushed some loose strands of hair away from her face. She closed her eyes for a few seconds and then seemed to realize what she’d done and opened them again. Her eyes were wide as she stared, and I could tell her anxiety was increasing again.

  “Deep, even breaths, Brianna. Take one word at a time. There’s no rush.”

  She did as I’d instructed, her chest rising and falling steadily with each breath. I tried not to pay attention to how the fabric of her dress brushed against me with every movement, drawing my attention to her breasts. Closing my eyes, I made myself block out my body’s natural reaction to her.

  When I opened my eyes, she had a determined look on her face and her hands were balled into fists in her lap.

  “I could . . . hear . . . them.”

  She reached toward my chest, but when she touched my bare skin, she pulled back. I realized she was used to holding on to my shirt. Since I wasn’t wearing anything, it was throwing her off. I didn’t want that, so I lowered my right hand and laced our fingers together. Brianna’s fingers clasped my hands tighter than I thought possible.

  “The . . . the men. They . . . the words . . . what they’d . . . say . . .”

  Brianna was doing well, but I could see the panic rising. I brought her face closer to mine, touching my nose with hers. Gradually, she relaxed again, and I thought about what she’d said and what we’d been doing right before her panic had begun to spiral out of control.

  I’d asked where she wanted me to touch her. It had been a simple question with an obvious answer. “You’re talking about the men Ian shared you with.”

  She didn’t need to confirm it, but she did with a nod.

  For some reason, I felt I needed to clarify something. “When I asked you where you wanted me to touch you, it reminded you of those men?”

  Brianna opened her mouth and then shut it. She did this several times, never uttering a word.

  “There isn’t a wrong answer, love.”

  “When you . . . asked me . . .”

  “Yes,” I prompted. She tried to glance down, but I tapped the underside of her chin, and she looked back up at me.

  “I didn’t know . . . how to answer. What word . . . to use.” She took a deep breath. “Then I heard them. All the words, the names, they used to say, to call me. It . . .” A shudder ripped through her body as she rushed through the last few words.

  “Come here.” I released her hands and turned her around in my lap so her back was to my chest.

  Almost instinctively, she leaned back and rested her head on my shoulder.

  I ran my hands down her sides, her legs, until I reached the hem of her skirt. This time, I wasted no time in lifting it, bunching it up around her hips, and revealing her silky dark green panties. Lacking pretense, I spread her legs and cupped my hand over her mound. She glanced up at me and waited.

  “What words you use to describe your body aren’t as important as the meaning behind them, Brianna. Those men—did the words they used convey the pleasure, the beauty of what they were talking about? I doubt it. The way you’ve described them, it was more about degrading you than anything else. I never want you to feel that way. Ever. Your body is beautiful to me. Every single part of it. It should be beautiful to you, too.”

  Removing my hand, I fixed her dress and cradled the back of her head. I leaned down to brush my mouth against hers before deepening the kiss. She parted her lips, responding.

  I broke the kiss before it could get out of hand and smiled. “We are going to revisit this later, sweetheart, but for now, we have a dinner to attend.”

  I patted her leg, and she stood.

  “Finish getting ready,” I instructed, giving her a light swat on her behind as I walked around her to get to my closet. Brianna stood unmoving for several seconds, much as she had the first time I’d spanked her, as if waiting for something, and then she scurried off to the bathroom to fix her hair.

  On our way to Richard and Diane’s, I asked if she remembered her rules for the day, and made her repeat them back to me. Brianna needed to get used to interacting with people. Although I didn’t fully trust my uncle, I did trust Diane to make Brianna feel welcomed and provide a somewhat safe environment for her. Requiring her to ask questions, something she wouldn’t naturally do in a social situation, would hopefully push her out of her comfort zone a little without sending her into another panic attack.

  As I pulled up in front of their home, I noticed a familiar car already in the driveway. While I’d hoped it would just be us and my aunt and uncle, I wasn’t surprised by their presence. It just added another complication.

  I helped Brianna out of the car, closed the door behind her, and gathered her into my arms. “Jimmy and Samantha are here.” She tensed. “It’s all right. Remember your rules and you’ll be fine. Do we need to go over them again?”

  “No, Sir. I remember.”

  “Good girl. Now try to relax. You’re safe.”

  We were two steps from the front door when it opened. I’d expected my aunt, but instead Richard stood ominously in the doorway, his features unreadable.

  “You’re late.”

  His tone was tempered, but his eyes were fierce as he stared at me. I sighed and stepped forward to go around him. Even though I knew another lecture was most likely coming, I did my best to act as if he were only irritated about our tardiness.

  With my arm tucked around
Brianna’s waist, I smiled at my uncle. “I sent Diane a message. I do hope we haven’t kept everyone waiting too long.”

  He looked at me again and then turned his attention to Brianna. His features softened. She wasn’t paying attention to Richard, though. Instead, her focus appeared to be a picture on the other side of the room. It was a family portrait taken two years before my parents’ deaths. I made a mental note to get her a closer look after dinner.

  “No. She’s just putting everything out on the table now.”

  “Great!” I said with exaggerated enthusiasm, and began steering Brianna toward the dining room. A half second later, Richard followed. I had a feeling it was going to be another interesting Sunday afternoon.

  Chapter 11

  Stephan

  Jimmy was the first to see us when we walked into the room. Once he’d announced he was going into medicine, Richard had taken him under his wing. Apparently he and his wife were going to be regular guests in my aunt and uncle’s home from here on out. Jimmy smiled. “About time you showed up. I’m starved.”

  This, of course, got the attention of both his wife and my aunt. Diane set down the bowl of salad she had in her hands and walked toward us without preamble. She pulled me in for a hug, squeezing with more force than necessary. “I’m so glad you came,” she whispered.

  I hugged her back with one arm, refusing to let go of Brianna. “I couldn’t turn down your spaghetti and meatballs, could I?”

  She stepped back, smacking my shoulder playfully. “If that’s all it takes to get you to come see me, I’ll serve spaghetti every week.”

  I laughed.

  Brianna had been standing stoically beside me until Diane turned her attention from me to her. Diane wasted no time stepping forward and hugging Brianna as well. Brianna remained stiff for a long moment and then returned my aunt’s hug with her free hand.

  “It’s so good to see you again.”

  “Thank you,” Brianna responded as my aunt stepped back.

  Diane smiled. “I hope you’re all hungry,” she said as she turned her attention to the food once more.

  Without further delay, we all took our seats around the table. Diane and Richard were at each end, with Brianna and me on one side, and Jimmy and Samantha on the other. I hadn’t missed Samantha’s intense scrutiny of Brianna, but she hadn’t said anything and Brianna hadn’t reacted to it, so I chose to ignore it. At least for the time being.

  As I took the first bite of spaghetti, I was transported back to the many times I’d spent helping both my aunt and my mom in the kitchen. My parents had employed a cook who had come in during the week, but on the weekends Mom had insisted we could cook for ourselves, and she’d required that we all help. It was because of her I could cook as well as I did. Not that I was a stellar chef or anything, but I could hold my own, especially with a recipe in front of me.

  I hadn’t realized my trip down memory lane had drawn the attention of my dinner companions until Brianna touched my arm. I looked over at her and could see the worry on her face. Taking her hand, I laced our fingers together and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. She didn’t look convinced.

  “Is everything all right, Stephan?” Samantha asked. It was the first time she’d spoken since we’d arrived.

  “Yes. I’m fine.” Then to get the attention off me, I asked Jimmy how things were going at the hospital.

  Throughout the rest of dinner, he regaled us with stories. Everyone appeared to be enthralled and thoroughly distracted by Jimmy’s tales—everyone but Brianna. Worry lines creased her forehead, even as she ate.

  I leaned over and spoke softly in her ear. “I’m fine, sweetheart. I promise. Relax and enjoy your meal.” She nodded, and I could tell she was trying to obey. Lifting her hand, I placed a kiss on her knuckles before releasing my hold and going back to my food. I didn’t want her worrying about me. I really was fine.

  Diane stood as everyone was finishing. “Brianna, would you like to help me bring in dessert?”

  Brianna stared up at me, unsure.

  I nodded, letting her know it was all right. She took a deep breath and pushed back her chair. I knew the effort it took for her to do something as simple as go into the kitchen and help my aunt with dessert, but she was doing it, and I was proud of her.

  As soon as they were out of earshot, my uncle pounced. “Should I even ask why you were late today?”

  I picked up my water and took a drink before addressing him. “If there’s something you wish to say, Richard, please say it. As we’ve already established, I’m an adult and so is Brianna. What we do, or don’t do, is none of your business.”

  “Now, Stephan, I don’t think your uncle—”

  “Stay out of this, Samantha. I have no interest in your mind games.”

  “Stephan! I don’t appreciate you using that tone with my wife,” Jimmy said, all his usual lightheartedness gone.

  “Jimmy, I appreciate you defending your wife, but if she is going to stick her nose into someone else’s business, then both of you are going to have to learn to deal with the consequences. I won’t be one of her psych studies.”

  “And what about your consequences?” Samantha piped in.

  Unfortunately, I was unable to respond. Diane and Brianna walked around the corner with dessert. Even with the tension in the room, I couldn’t help but smile when I saw what she was carrying. It seemed my aunt was pulling out all my favorites.

  Brianna waited patiently behind her with a stack of plates and a handful of forks, while Diane laid the three-layer chocolate and strawberry swirl cake on the table and began to slice it. One by one, Brianna handed my aunt a plate, which she filled with a piece of cake.

  “Thank you, dear,” she said to Brianna, taking the last two plates from her.

  Brianna resumed her place beside me quickly. Soon we were all eating again. Unfortunately, the tension in the room hadn’t dissipated much.

  “Dr. Cooper?” Brianna’s voice was barely above a whisper, but since they were the first words anyone at the table had heard her speak all day, everyone stopped and waited.

  There was an unnatural pause before my uncle answered her. “Yes, Brianna?”

  She pressed her lips together for five very long seconds before she spoke. “What made you . . . want to become a doctor?”

  No one spoke for the longest time, but I reached out and took her hand in mine, smiling the entire time. I knew she was only following the instructions I’d given her, but she could have picked something simple like asking him his favorite color. It would have only required a one-word answer on his part, and once the response was given, her task would have been completed. By asking something more open ended, she also opened herself up to a more lengthy conversation.

  “My father was a doctor. I used to go into the office with him on Saturdays when I was younger. Then in my teenage years, I volunteered at the hospital.” He paused, glancing over at me before returning to Brianna. “I admired my father a great deal. He knew every one of his patients by name. He knew their families.” There was a long silence before he added, “I wanted to be just like him.”

  We could have heard a pin drop in the room after that. There wasn’t even the sound of forks scraping against plates. Richard’s father had died last year, and it was clear that talking about him had brought his grief back to the surface.

  “Ted was a good man and a great doctor,” Diane said, breaking through the silence.

  “Yes,” Richard said, clearing his throat. “Yes, he was.”

  I decided I needed to fill Brianna in on what was going on. I didn’t want her to be confused. “Richard’s father, Ted, died a little over a year ago. They were close.”

  She looked up at me, eyes wide. Brianna closed her eyes momentarily, before turning to face my uncle. I knew she was trying to keep herself from crying. “I’m so sorry.”

  He cleared his throat again and picked up his napkin to wipe his mouth. It was a purely reactionary gesture. “No need to be sorry,
Brianna. You didn’t know. Besides, talking about our loved ones who’ve passed on is a way for us to honor their memory. They are only truly gone if we choose to forget them.”

  The way my uncle glanced over to me as he spoke was not lost on me. I knew exactly what he was implying, but he was wrong. Just because I didn’t like to talk about my parents didn’t mean I’d forgotten them. Far from it. They were a part of me. A part of me that I didn’t share easily. A part of me that I wanted to share with only one person.

  Brianna

  I was nervous when Stephan’s aunt asked for my help in the kitchen, but I didn’t know how to get out of it. It turned out not to be as scary as I thought it would be. She was really nice. I even felt comfortable enough to ask her my question.

  At first, I thought I’d asked something wrong because she stopped what she was doing and turned to look at me. Then she smiled and continued to place slices of strawberries on top of the chocolate cake. “Stephan didn’t come to live with us until he was almost fifteen, you know.”

  She paused, glancing up at me again.

  When I nodded, she continued. “His mother and I were only a year apart, so we were close. But like most families, we didn’t see each other all the time. They were busy with their lives, and we were busy with ours.”

  She finished decorating the cake and then began removing plates and utensils from the drawers and cabinets.

  “He was a good kid. Happy. A little spoiled, but most kids who grew up with what he did would be. My sister tried very hard to make sure he appreciated what he had, though.”

  Diane handed the stack of plates to me, along with enough forks for everyone. She turned around and reached for the cake and the cake server but halted her movement mid-reach.

  I was just about to ask if something was wrong when she spoke.