“On my thirteenth birthday, I came home from school, not expecting any gifts or treats, but I certainly hoped the old man would spare me his usual cruelty for a mere twenty-four hours,” he began. “However, I knew right away something wasn’t right. I could feel it. Nothing was amiss, I just… knew,” he said solemnly, and those words had a knot forming in the pit of Vanessa’s stomach. “I took my knapsack up to my room like always, but instead of starting my homework, I ventured out to the yard and, like I expected, Grandfather was nowhere in sight,” he added, still holding Vanessa’s gaze. “That was strange, but I came up with a thousand different reasons he wasn’t out there working like any other day, but… eventually, reality hit me in the gut.”
The distant howl he heard that day struck a chord in him now as if no time at all had passed. He cringed inwardly and Vanessa was cut off from his line of sight when his eyes slammed shut.
“That’s enough,” she cut in. “Whatever else there is, we don’t have to talk about it.”
That pain, whatever had one of the most strongminded people she’d ever met, looking as if he’d breakdown, was so great she became uncomfortable. However, Zander ignored her declaration altogether and went on.
“By the time I got to Bridgette, she’d just about lost consciousness,” he breathed. “His damn… filthy hands were locked around her neck… choking her.” A chill went through him as he spoke. “I rushed over and did all I could to stop him, but... even angry, my strength was no match for his. He shoved me to the ground and then pinned me beneath his foot while he squeezed her throat as tight as he could,” Zander hissed through gritted teeth. “He forced me to watch. Forced me to lie there helplessly while he took the life of the only thing I had left to love, on my birthday of all days.”
Vanessa’s heart was so heavy. It made sense that the powerlessness he must’ve felt as a child translated to something negative and self-destructive as an adult. But what stood out to her even more now was that he, on his own, realized he needed help.
“Seemed like it took her forever to die,” he added in a daze. “At one point, I remember praying and asking God to just end her suffering.”
That day was the worst of his life.
The darkest.
Envisioning the body of his dog laying lifeless in the grass as his grandfather finally released his hands from her throat, he remembered the feeling of dread that accompanied it. Loneliness had never felt more real to him than it did in that moment. And as if taking Bridgette’s life hadn’t been bad enough, what happened next didn’t steal a piece of Zander’s innocence… it stole every ounce of it.
“He didn’t leave me in the dark for long as to why he’d gone out of his way to make this particular birthday so special,” Zander said with an overwhelming air of sarcasm “Apparently, thirteen was the age my mother was when she started giving him the most trouble and I suppose showing me I was no more a man on this day than I was the day before, was his way of conveying to me how weak I was. And even after killing Bridgette right before my eyes, after watching me lie there blubbering and sobbing like a baby, I still wasn’t broken enough for him.” The words came out in one, monotone breath. “In his eyes, I still needed to be brought down a peg, made aware of the fact that I still, in no way, shape, or form, was a man in his house.”
Bile rose in Zander’s throat and, hearing echoes of his own, desperate screams, he made the decision to spare Vanessa the details of how extensive this monumental punishment became. He’d only tell her enough to draw her own conclusion.
With her hand in his, he did all he could not to look away—despite the ever-present shame he still carried with him to this day. “There are many forms of abuse and my grandfather was well-versed in them all. That afternoon, I became aware of that fact for myself,” he said plainly.
There was no fighting it anymore. Vanessa’s tears flowed freely as she filled in the gap in Zander’s story for herself. She didn’t need to hear him say word for word that he’d been sexually abused, but she got the picture. With the hand not gripping his, she wiped her face. The motion pulled Zander from the vivid images that flooded his mind—images that still carried so much sadness with them. However, even in his own haze of grief, he saw how this affected her. It pained him knowing he was the reason she cried.
“I didn’t mean to upset you, Love. I just…” He stopped there; stopped before he brushed this off like it was nothing. That was a bad habit he knew needed to be broken. In his eyes, what he endured as a child was the reason he turned out this way. There was nothing anyone could say to convince him he wasn’t a sorry excuse for a man. As hard as he tried to pretend otherwise… he hated himself; hated the things he’d done, hated that he agreed with the message his mother and grandfather went out of their way to drill into his head—he was unlovable.
While Zander was yet in the midst of his thoughts, Vanessa’s hand slipped from his and the next instant, warm arms encircled his neck. She squeezed as if it’d been her story, her truth, revealed here tonight.
Without realizing it, Vanessa was slowly but surely melting the ice that had formed around Zander’s heart, ice that had thickened over the years as the idea of happiness seemed to drift further and further away. To him, she was the embodiment of kindness, compassion, and that ever-elusive feminine energy he’d secretly craved all his life. No, she wasn’t a means of fulfilling some twisted longing for the mother he never really had, but Vanessa’s presence, her tolerance of him despite his flaws and his brash ways, was beginning to convince him of something: he was beginning to see that not having his mother’s love wasn’t any fault of his own. If the woman in his arms was able to find it in her heart to give him a chance, he couldn’t have been as bad as he thought.
When the words, “I’m sorry,” were whispered against his ear, Zander came back to the present altogether.
“Why on Earth are you apologizing?” he asked, keeping her close, mesmerized by the feel of her heart drumming against his chest, beating in tandem with his own.
As soon as the question left Zander’s mouth, Vanessa realized she couldn’t explain. She was sorry, but her reasons would be hard for Zander to understand. She was sorry for judging him without knowing his past; however, that was a moot point because she couldn’t have known such a thing unless he’d revealed it. In general, she just felt guilty. She’d been so hard on him. She, at times, thought he was beyond her help or even not worth the immense effort that would go into reaching him, but now… now she felt for him in ways she didn’t think possible. And it wasn’t just pity.
Instead of trying to express all these seemingly abstract thoughts, Vanessa just held on to him, pulling him to her tight despite the message it might send, despite how much it would give away.
This talk brought them closer. Both knew it, felt it. Hearing Zander be so open, so vulnerable with her, made it difficult for Vanessa to deny her feelings. She cared for him.
Deeply.
What happened next was instinctual, as natural as breathing. Zander’s lips sought hers and, when they met, his system was shocked by the constant waves of emotion that ravished him in place of what he expected—lust. She always made him feel, even when he didn’t want to. But still, he didn’t let go. In her kiss, he found peace. She was his perfect shelter from the storm that crept ashore the moment he opened his mouth to tell her of his past. While his mind was at the mercy of the hurricane, his heart was safe.
Thanks to her.
Chapter Eighteen
Insomniac… that’d been part of Zander’s initial diagnosis, but now… Vanessa saw no signs of a restless night ahead of him.
Even she was emotionally distraught after their conversation. Thinking of all they discussed, she inched closer to him, imagining all the nights he’d gone to sleep feeling lonely, afraid, unloved. Without waking, his arms tightened around her.
This had been an eventful evening. There was so much more to his story, but he’d given her a chance to digest the tougher portion
s before he went on to explain the role his father eventually played.
After things on his grandfather’s farm took such an ugly turn, Zander managed to track down his father with the help of a classmate’s older sibling, one with access to resources he didn’t have. All he had to start with was a name and the knowledge that the man who fathered him was a political figure, although he knew nothing of his position. After some digging, it was discovered that the man they were searching for happened to have recently been elected a member of the House of Commons. Needless to say, the contrast between Zander’s mother’s status versus his father’s proved to be rather significant.
Vanessa tried to imagine all the things that must have gone through Zander’s head as he worked up the courage to reach out to someone he was almost certain knew nothing of his existence. Or there was the possibility that he did know he had a son, but had simply chosen not to claim him. Either way, Zander explained how he pushed fear aside in hopes that his father, a stranger to him, would have pity and rescue him from his desperate circumstances.
In a way, that’s exactly what happened, but not quite in the way Zander had hoped.
During that brief phone call—one where his father continuously cut a young, sobbing Zander off every few seconds to talk business with colleagues who entered his office—Zander learned several things—
One: his mother had been receiving a monthly stipend in exchange for keeping his existence a secret.
Two: his father was an insufferable bastard whose selfishness far exceeded anyone’s Zander had ever encountered before him.
And three: the man had no interest in helping Zander beyond offering him a similar deal to that which he’d offered his mother years before—he offered him money for his silence, not realizing Zander had no intentions whatsoever to exploit him. Well, not initially. However, even at thirteen, he was smart enough to take his blessings in whatever form they were given.
With little convincing, and a large sum of money paid by his father, Zander’s mother started the enrollment process for a highly esteemed boarding school. Despite his troubles, Zander’s grades were excellent, making him a shoo-in. From there, the burden of tuition was on his father—a burden the man happily accepted because it was indeed less costly than having to explain to his wife and three, legitimate children that he’d been unfaithful.
In short, the decision to make that phone call changed Zander’s life forever.
He soared in school. And because he knew his father was in no position to tell him ‘no’, he continued to milk him for cash in later years for his needs beyond the scope of his education, room and board while attending university. But once he graduated, he vowed to himself to be done with his parents altogether.
And he held to that.
In fact, to make sure he left no stone unturned, to ensure he’d have no cause to look back, he took on the added responsibility of caring for his brother, Liam. Of course, his mother had no objections to that and with Liam’s father out of the picture, remarried, Zander met no resistance. He was now the sole caretaker of the brother he barely knew at the time, but Zander, for once in his life, had found some semblance of peace.
Vanessa’s head was still swimming from it all. Thoughts of Zander’s struggles, past and present, were all she could think about as she began to drift off. Opening her eyes one last time, the clouds parted, allowing moonlight to illuminate the several inches of snow that had fallen during their talk. She was sure Zander thought of himself as weak, but, in her eyes, that couldn’t have been further from the truth. He’d shown strength in situations that would’ve broken most people—although he was only a child at the time.
After getting to the bottom of things, Vanessa was well aware of how her respect for him had grown in such a short amount of time. There were many layers to the man at her side. Yes, he was indeed complex, but there was a certain beauty in his brokenness. He, the beast who’d once prided himself on his appetite for exploiting the affection of vulnerable women, had shed his cloak and became something altogether new in her eyes.
*****
Morning came and, with it, new perspective. Zander stared at Vanessa, at her skin the shade of warm cider, and placed a kiss on her shoulder.
He’d told her so much about himself, so many things he intended to take to his grave. But she, this beautiful being, helped him voice the most painful of memories.
“Wake up, Love,” Zander whispered against Vanessa’s ear. He meant to let her rest, but watching her sleep simply wasn’t good enough. There were vibrant eyes behind those closed lids and he wanted to see them.
Groggy, Vanessa rolled onto her back, sweeping a slender hand across her brow. Her breasts swayed with the movement and, surprisingly, as perfect as they were, they didn’t steal Zander’s attention. Instead, he found himself transfixed on a small beauty mark near her eye. It nearly blended into her lashes, but today, he noticed it. As if suddenly seeing her in new light.
She was more than just a body to him. More than just sex and… heat.
She was heart.
She was soul.
She was everything.
“Is it late?” she rasped, stirring a bit.
“No, it’s not late.”
She stretched, extending her arms and legs to the max. “I’m so sleepy.”
Zander couldn’t help but to grin at that, her voice so sweet. He placed a kiss on the tip of her nose and then drew her into his arms as she wriggled closer beneath the sheet.
“Shall I call down for breakfast?” he asked.
Vanessa’s eyes fluttered open, revealing their smooth, brown centers. “Like a hotel?” she laughed.
“No, like I’m not giving either one of us an excuse to leave this bed unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
To her, that idea was pure perfection.
Zander moved away, but only long enough to grab his phone. Vanessa listened as he put in a call to Ramone, requesting blueberry pancakes, scrambled eggs, sausage, and more food than they could ever finish in one sitting. When he returned, her forehead settled against his chest.
Her thoughts drifted back to their talk the night before. At some point, before sleep had taken over, she decided to tell Zander what was on her mind. Here, away from it all, conversation seemed to come so easily and she didn’t want to put it off any longer. On other occasions, she’d threatened not to treat him for varying reasons, but, this time, it was different. She wasn’t trying to push him away or pass the responsibility of treating him off on some other psychologist. No, ending their doctor/patient relationship seemed necessary as they ushered in this new, far more personal dynamic.
“We need to talk,” she breathed.
No man ever liked hearing those words leave a woman’s mouth, but, for some reason, they didn’t alarm Zander when Vanessa spoke them.
“I’m all ears,” he answered, moving strands of her dark mane away from her cheek.
“I’ve been doing some thinking,” she began. “With how things have changed, I can’t, in good conscience, continue treating you.”
And she couldn’t. Not anymore. Not after what they had become.
She peered up at Zander then, wanting to know he hadn’t taken offense. From what she could tell, he hadn’t. It did look like he was deep in thought, though.
“I fully believe you’ll continue to make progress in therapy, but I just,” she paused. “I just can’t be the one to help you.”
Wait… that wasn’t quite right.
She sought Zander’s hand beneath the blanket before clarifying. “I only mean I can’t help you professionally speaking. Outside of that, I’d love to help you through this as much as I can,” she added. “As much as you’ll let me.”
There was a lull in conversation and Vanessa found herself wishing Zander would say something. Even if that something was a rebuttal to this conclusion she’d reached. The last thing she wanted was for him to think this was all because of the secrets he’d divulged the night before. Actu
ally, in a way, it was because of that, but not in the way she feared he might assume.
When Zander shared his story, she shed tears right alongside him. At this point, she was far too close to ever effectively advise him. Hopefully, he understood that.
A kiss to the forehead put Vanessa’s mind at ease, bringing with it the realization that he did, in fact, see her side of things.
“You’re not upset?” she asked, just needing to hear him say it.
A soft chuckle touched her ears and then gently spoken words in dialect she now found familiar, comforting. “Of course not, Love. I’m glad you expressed how you feel.”
Vanessa released a breath, glad to have finally gotten that out in the open. It weighed on her heavily, but already, she felt the weight leave her. She wanted the best for Zander and was woman enough to admit she no longer felt she was right for the job.
Feather-light kisses and sensual teasing occupied the half hour or so it took breakfast to arrive. When a light knock hit the door, Zander answered wearing only the white robe that matched Vanessa’s. While their meal was brought in on silver, serving trays, Vanessa hid her body beneath the sheets per Zander’s request. He intended to keep her naked and at his disposal until further notice.
Seconds later, they were alone again and a heated stare followed Vanessa as she made the slow approach across the room to the chaise. It pleased Zander that she honored his wishes, bypassing her robe where it hung draped over the foot of the bed. She’d dine with him in the nude this morning. Admiring her feminine form in all its blissful perfection, void of clothing, Zander was suddenly inspired to liberate himself as well.
Vanessa, having just taken a bite of a fresh strawberry, snorted when Zander stood from the lounge, zealously stripping down naked, too. Taking his seat again, he reached for a grape and casually popped it into his mouth.
Overdose: A British Bad Boy Romance Page 27
