Nodding, I accept my limitations.
I’m on my way to donate blood when my attorney arrives, and I corral him into doing the same. The police are there to greet us when we return to the waiting area.
“Mr. Wolff. I’m Homicide Detective Thomas Eastman.”
What are the fucking odds, another Eastman here to rattle my cage? The resemblance is uncanny, there’s no mistaking the familial connection.
“Any relation to Kyle Eastman?” I question.
“He’s my younger brother and your ex-employee, if memory serves.”
“How can we help you, Detective Eastman?” Rush interjects.
“And you are?” Eastman queries.
“Deacon Rush, from the law office of Gannon, Hewlett and Rush. I’m Mr. Wolff’s attorney.”
Rush gives Eastman his business card and he examines it before tucking it in his notepad. We take a seat and I recount the events leading up to tonight’s shootings. I began with seven months ago when Dr. Jamison reached out to me.
“Carina was institutionalized for seven months. In that time, she requested visitations from me. I refused.”
“Why did you refuse to visit your uncle’s widow?”
I take a deep cleansing breath, think of Olivia, and how much I want a future with her, a future with no secrets hiding in the darkness. Releasing the polluted air clears my mind of the guilt and shame I’ve felt for over a decade.
“After my uncle passed away, Carina Channing was my sole guardian. After a few months she became physically abusive. The sexual abuse started three years later.”
Both men stare at me. Ignoring the sympathy, I see in their eyes, I continue with my statement. I don’t go into details regarding the nature of my sexual experience with Carina, but I’m sure Detective Eastman has drawn his own conclusion based on the evidence collected at the beach house. After Detective Eastman finishes taking my statement, I’m left alone with my attorney. Rush remains professional and detached as always, all signs of pity erased.
“I need to call Olivia’s family,” I announce, striding away from Rush.
I find a private alcove at the end of the corridor. Ducking inside, I place a call to Julian Frost, Olivia’s older brother. It’s after midnight in New York, so I use her phone to ensure he recognizes the number. He answers on the second ring.
“What’s up, Livie?”
“This is Dorian Wolff, I’m...” I pause unsure how to introduce myself.
“I know who you are, Wolff. What’s happened to my sister?”
“She’s been shot.”
The line is silent for what feels like a lifetime. When Frost finally speaks, he asks just one question.”
“Where is she?”
I provide him with the hospital’s name and address. He ends the call and I make my way back to the waiting area.
Frost arrives at the hospital nearly four hours after my call. Standing a little over six feet, he is slightly shorter than me. His stature fills the doorway of Olivia’s private room. He makes his way to her bedside, followed by a woman who is undoubtedly his mother. She extends her hand to me in greeting.
“I’m Julia Frost, this is my son Julian.” She tilts her head toward Frost, who is sitting stoically at his sister’s bedside.
“It’s a pleasure to me you Mrs. Frost. I only wish it were under better conditions.”
“Please call me Julia.”
“The police report says, she was shot at your home.” Frost says, turning his attention my way.
His eyes hold no judgement, but his unspoken words mirror my own.
Don’t fuck with me.
It doesn’t surprise me that he’s already gotten his hands on the police report. If she were my sister, I would have done the same. I can’t imagine any brother being pleased with his sister being held against her will and shot under any circumstances. Considering he knows what was used to subdue Olivia, I suppose he’s handling it quite well.
Sensing the growing tension in the room Julia tries to intervene.
“The doctor says, she’s going to make a full recovery.”
Frost stands abruptly, glaring daggers at me.
“I don’t give a fuck, what you’re into Wolff. But if any more shit from your past comes back to hurt my sister, I guaranfuckingtee you won’t like my next visit.”
“Julian.’ Olivia whispers. “It’s not his fault.”
Olivia offers her brother her right hand and Frost is back at her side again.
“I’m okay,” Olivia attempts to reassure her brother. “What happened wasn’t Dorian’s fault.”
Frost kisses her hand, before extending his left hand to his mother. I feel like an intruder, witnessing a family’s private moment. The reality of what happened to Olivia catches up to me, forcing me to accept the truth. All I want to do is take her home, take care of her and show her how much I truly love her. Make her my family.
“Dorian; come sit with me.” Her voice is weak and her icy blue eyes are pleading.
I take a seat on her left, directly across from Frost. The coldness in his stare reveals how deeply he cares for Olivia.
“Where’s Carina?” Olivia asks. “Did she get away?”
“No, she didn’t, and she will never hurt anyone else.”
Olivia’s eyes fill with understanding, releasing a single tear. I wipe it away before it slides down her cheek.
“Don’t shed any tears for her.”
“How are you feeling, Livie?” Julia’s concern is evident, her once steady voice quivers slightly.
“I’ve been better.” Shrugging her shoulder, causes Olivia to wince in pain.
“And you will be again,” Frost assures her.
Julia yawns and it’s contagious, before it can be stopped, it spreads from person to person.
“You should all go get some rest,” Olivia insists. “I’ll be okay for a few hours without you.”
Frost seems determined to stay, until Olivia points out the Julia needs him too.
“Take care of Julia, then come back to see me once you’re both rested.”
They give Olivia a kiss, before Frost exits the room with his mother.
“That means you too.”
I don’t argue with her, because I know my time will be better spent preparing for her homecoming rather than watching her sleep. Leaning down, I kiss her gently.
“See you soon, Sunshine.” I whisper against her lips.
It’s after three in the morning when I reach the beach house. This time, to my surprise Winston is there to greet me. I assumed he would be resting. Detective Eastman told me; Winston was found in the guest house, handcuffed with duct tape around his mouth and ankles. Winston identified Carina as the woman who held him at gunpoint to gain access to my home.
“How is Miss Frost?”
Winston rarely asks me about my personal life. In the ten years he’s worked for me. I can count on one hand the number of times he’s done so.
“She’s going to be fine. She’ll make a full recovery.”
“I’m pleased to hear it, sir.”
“How are you feeling ,Winston?”
“She only hurt my pride, sir.”
I nod, understanding that a man’s pride has as much value as his loyalty.
“Before Olivia returns, I want to make a few changes.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I want everything in the master bedroom gone. Starting with that blood-stained rug.”
“By everything do you mean the bedding and accessories or...”
“Everything.” I interrupt. “Clean slate, less masculine. I want more feminine touches. I want the master suite to represent a shared space.”
Winston smiles infectiously. He grabs the iPad from the kitchen work area and begins jotting down notes.
“How soon, sir?”
“Three days.”
“I’ll get started right away, sir.”
Winston leaves the kitchen and I make my way upstairs to my
bedroom. The police have released the area as a crime scene, but I still feel the ghost of Carina’s last desperate act of hatred. Vanquishing her spirit once and for all starts with overhauling this room. Repairing myself is next.
I’m back at the hospital five hours later. This time it’s to meet with Dr. Helena Deed. She has agreed to see me before office hours, which I’m extremely grateful for. Dr. Deed was the only adult to recognize that my relationship with Carina wasn’t as it appeared. She made numerous attempts to help me after the physical abuse began, but fear kept me from confiding in her.
Standing outside the office of Dr. Helena Deed, Child Psychiatrist, I tap once before opening the door.
“Dorian,” She greets warmly. “It’s good to see you again.”
“I’m glad you could see me on such short notice. Considering, I’m not your typical patient.”
“I made you a promise all those years ago and I always honor my promises.”
The memory of her promise to a scared and lonely twelve-year-old reassures me of her commitment.
‘If you ever want to talk, I will listen.’
“I’m ready to talk.”
“Make yourself comfortable.”
Taking a seat on the couch in her office, I confirm what she has always suspected. The more
I reveal the secrets of my past, the less power they hold over me. First with Olivia, the police and now Dr. Deed.
“Healing doesn't mean the pain never existed. It means the pain no longer controls your life.” Dr. Deed’s parting words fill me with encouragement.
My first session comes to an end and all I want now is to see Olivia.
Chapter 24
Olivia
THE FRAGRANT SCENT of flowers filling the air reminds me of the gardens at Frost Haven. My eyes open slowly, focusing on unfamiliar surroundings. A room with beeping machines and floral arrangements as far as the eye can see.
“Good morning, Sunshine. How are you feeling?”
The sound of Dorian’s voice gives life to my foggy brain. Forgetting my injury, I wince in pain reaching for him.
“Be careful,” he says, holding my hand.
Gazing into the eyes of the man l love, I see the father of my children. I see my future.
“I love you,” I whisper.
Unshed tears cloud his vision. Ignoring the pain in my chest, I reach up to stroke his cheek. Overcome with emotions, Dorian’s smoky gray eyes speak for him. I didn’t confess my feelings to hear him repeat the words. I did it because I couldn’t wait another day to tell him. Life is too short to live with regret. And I want him to know that I will never regret us.
“I saw a therapist before coming to see you. Dr. Helena Deed,” he finally says.
My heart overflows with pride. I know this is a big step for Dorian; seeking the professional help he has denied himself for so many years.
“I’m so proud of you, my gray wolf.”
“Confessing everything to Dr. Deed felt different from revealing the details of my past to the police. She suspected I was being abused back then, and she was the only person to see past the act. I believe she can help.”
“I can’t imagine how difficult all this has been for you. But I know we can get through it together. I believe in us. I believe in you.”
“Promise me you won’t leave me again.” He whispers, but I hear his pain.
“Promise not to push me away, and I promise not to leave.”
“I don’t think your brother approves of me.”
“Julian is very protective of the people he loves. But you don’t need his approval.”
“He has read the police report.”
Silence taints the air, filling it with shame and doubt neither Dorian nor I deserve. The words Julian spat at Dorian plays on a loop in my head, ‘I don’t give a fuck, what you’re into, Wolff,’ confirming what we both know. My brother suspects, I’m in a Dominant/submissive relationship with Dorian.
“It doesn’t matter,” I assure Dorian. “My brother doesn’t dictate who I love or how I love.”
“I don’t want to come between you and your family.”
“And my family doesn’t get to come between me and the man I love.”
It feels so good saying the words, but it feels even better to see Dorian’s reaction to hearing them. So, I say them again.
“I love you, Dorian Wolff.”
Without warning his mouth claims mine. The kiss is tender, yet passionate. I moan against his lips in desperation, eager to make up for kisses we’ve lost.
“Say it again, Sunshine,” Dorian groans.
“I love you.” With each word, my lips brush against his, whispering a promise of forever.
After lunch Dorian leaves reluctantly, promising to return by dinner time. I’m awake when a stranger with a familiar face peeks his head into my hospital room.
“Miss Frost,” he says by way of greeting. “I’m Detective Eastman. Is this a good time to ask you a few questions?”
I knew this was coming; the time when I had to give an account of the shooting. Dorian and I haven’t discussed what happened to me or Carina’s death. Although I was blindfolded and couldn’t see his face, I heard the love in Dorian’s voice when he begged Carina to spare me. I also heard the anguish when he thought he had loss me.
“Come in, Detective Eastman,” I beckon.
The man entering the room looks remarkably like my friend Kyle. The same vibrant green eyes and sandy blond hair. He’s just as good looking as Kyle, but not as tall or as muscular. Detective Eastman takes a seat near the foot of the bed, before retrieving a micro-recorder from his breast pocket.
“I’m going to record the interview, if you don’t mind.”
I nod, giving him the okay.
“Please state your full name and address for the record,” he says, pressing the button to record my statement.
After identifying myself, Detective Eastman precedes with taking my statement. Reliving the incident takes a mental toll. The trauma of the shooting is magnified by the helplessness I feel confined to a bed. I’m more shaken by it than I care to admit. I survived. I should feel grateful and I do, but there’s a small part of me still bound and powerless in that room.
“Thank you for your time, Miss Frost.” Standing, Detective Eastman places a card on the tray table.
“You’re welcome, Detective.”
“If you remember anything else or have any questions, give me a call.”
“Okay, I will.” Offering a gracious smile, I try to coverup my dismissive tone.
“Good day, Miss Frost.” He gets the idea; he knows I have nothing more to say.
“Goodbye, Detective.”
He leaves the room, and I wonder what he must think of my relationship with Dorian. Most of all, despite what I said to Dorian, I wonder what my brother must think of our relationship. It’s disconcerting, knowing that my brother has read the initial police report. Knowing that he’s aware of Dorian’s past with Carina.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear; or in this case my brother, Julian. He’s far from being the devil, with a heart as big as the heavens. But he’s certainly no angel. His smile widens when he sees me sitting up in bed, his icy blue eyes mirroring my own, dances with joy.
“Livie.’ He rushes to my side. “It’s good the see the color returning to your cheeks.”
He punctuates the statement with a kiss to each cheek. Taking a seat, he asks.
“How are you feeling?”
“Sore, but on the mend.
He nods, eyeing me with concern. Biting his tongue is not in my brother’s nature. And when he can’t hold it any longer, he makes his feelings clear.
“I understand that this Channing woman was fucked up in the head. And I understand how abuse can damage a child. But what I will never understand or forgive is why Wolff failed to protect you.”
“Dorian didn’t fail me. He tried to push me away, to keep me out of Carina’s crosshairs.”
“Apparently, not hard enough.”
“I wouldn’t let him. When I found out about Carina, I went to him. She thought by exposing what she had done to Dorian, she could intimidate me or scare me off. But I love him too much to abandon him. And he was willing to sacrifice himself to keep me safe. I will never leave his side again, not for anyone.”
“I know men like him. Men who need to be in control of every aspect of their life, including the bedroom.”
Lowering my head, I attempt to hide my blushing cheeks for my brother. As always, his powers of observation are evident in his response.
“I don’t want you getting hurt, Livie.”
I meet his gaze, allowing him the see the truth from deep in my heart.
“I love him, and I know he will never hurt me.”
“Does he love you?”
Julian’s question catches me by surprise. And for the first time in my life I consider lying to my brother.
“He hasn’t said the words, but I feel them in his actions.” I feel Dorian’s love in his touch, I feel it in the way he gazes longingly into my eyes. I don’t share my thoughts with Julian, I simply say. “He never has to say it. I feel it.”
Before Julian has a chance to respond, his mother, Julia, strolls in. She joins Julian at my bedside, kissing my forehead tenderly before taking a seat next to him. The three of us chat for hours, catching up on the months I’ve been away from Frost Haven. Julian tells me that our father’s health is deteriorating, and I see the sadness in his mother’s eyes. She loves our father still, even after his betrayal. It breaks my heart to be a constant reminder to her of my father’s infidelity. It breaks my heart that she isn’t my mother. The memory of years of birthday wishes comes unbidden. I made the same birthday wish for seven years. I wished for a mom who loved me enough to stick around. By my tenth birthday I stopped wishing, because I realized my wish had already come true. Julia has always been the mom I needed. But I don’t think I’ve ever told her how much I love and appreciate her.
“Mom.”
Julia stares, clasping her hands over her mouth.
“I love you, thank you for loving me too.”
Tears roll down her cheeks faster than she can wipe them away.
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