Breaking the Reins

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Breaking the Reins Page 25

by Juliana Haygert


  He ran his hands over my arms, his predatory gaze back on, and I suppressed a shudder.

  “I really hoped you would behave, and it wouldn’t come to this,” he said, before kissing my cheek. I pressed my lips together, hoping the sob coming up my throat would be contained. With his mouth hovering in my face, he said, “Let me try to be clearer. You are mine. Period. You can’t escape me. Each time you turn and try to run, will be only that. A try. Because I’ll catch you and I’ll make you regret ever trying to run from me.” He licked my cheek and, on instinct, I turned my face away. He grabbed my chin with too much force and snapped my face back to him. “Isn’t that enough? I’ll give you more, then.”

  I expected another punch or a kick in the gut. Instead, he let go of me and stood there, his crazed eyes on mine, his evil smile over his lips. “Hilary is turning out to be a beautiful young lady, isn’t she?” The realization of his words hit me stronger than any punch in my face could. I gasped. “How old is she now? Sixteen, seventeen? Do you think she would turn out to be such a nice girl as you if I lay my hand on her?”

  I was becoming seriously sick to my stomach. “Eric, please …”

  “I wonder if she will fight me, or if it’ll be easy to break her.”

  I repressed a sob. “Please …”

  “Please, what?” He put his hands on the table, right beside my thighs, and faced me down. “Please, what?”

  “Leave her alone,” I whispered.

  “If you behave, I will. If you behave, if you do everything I tell you, if you don’t fight me, I will leave Hilary alone. But if you don’t”─he tsked─“I won’t have a choice. Hilary will suffer. And you’ll watch it.” His fingertip traced my jaw, my neck, and down my breast. “Are you going to behave?”

  A tear dripped down my face. “Yes.”

  “Good.” He placed a kiss on my burning cheek. “Now, clean up this mess and cook us a new dinner. Meanwhile, I’m gonna take a shower.”

  He just turned and left, as if it had been a normal conversation, in a normal situation, with a normal couple and a normal life.

  Emotionally and physically drained, I curled over the table and cried.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Keeping my eyes closed and my breathing deep, I pretended to be asleep as Eric woke up early in the morning and left for the club.

  Last night, I ended up cooking a simple dinner for us, which he complained about, then sat with him in the family room, where we watched a baseball game. My mind kept an it’s-for-Hilary chant, otherwise I would have tried to escape. Again. When we went to bed, he tried to kiss me, with clear intentions of going further, but I couldn’t. I ended up crying and he stopped.

  “You’ll be a good girl from now on,” he said, “and our relationship will be perfect again. You’ll want me soon. I’ll wait for it.” He planted a peck on my lips, turned to his side of the bed, and dozed off in a matter of minutes.

  It took me hours to sleep, mostly because I didn’t want to sleep beside him, but I couldn’t get away either. Exhaustion won though, and I ended up falling asleep late into the night. But it was an agitate sleep, with unclear nightmares.

  I was thankful that in the morning he actually went on like normal. I was afraid he would ditch practice that day to stay with me and make my life even more miserable.

  Once I heard his car driving away, I dragged myself to the bathroom, took three ibuprofen, crawled back into bed, hugged my pillow, and cried.

  I cried for having ever been naive and fallen in love with him. I cried for having found out what a lunatic he was. I cried for not being strong enough and able to defend myself each time he raised his hand to hit me. I cried for his threats—especially the ones about Hilary.

  God, please, leave Hilary out of this mess.

  Mostly, I cried because I couldn’t see a solution for this shit.

  A loud banging brought me back from the world of the happy-forget-everything-that-was-bad sleep. And the pain came back with me.

  “What the …?”

  Dizzy, I climbed out of bed, then stopped. What if it was Eric? It couldn’t be. He had just left. Besides, he had keys. If he wanted to get in, he wouldn’t knock.

  I reached for my phone on the nightstand and saw it was past noon. Gosh, I had gone back to sleep!

  It was probably Jimmy, worried that I hadn’t shown my face at the stables yet. I went down the stairs, flinching as each stepped jarred my head and sent pangs of pain within my face and neck. In my mind, I rehearsed what I would say so he would leave and I wouldn’t need to open the door for him.

  “Hey, Jimmy, I think—”

  “Hannah.” I almost tripped on the last step, and then froze. It was Leo. “I know you’re behind the door, Hannah. I heard your footsteps coming down the stairs. Open the door, please.”

  I held my breath and didn’t move.

  What the hell was he doing here? He had made it clear he didn’t want to be around me anymore. Moreover, he should be at the club, practicing.

  “Morena, please.”

  I pressed a hand to my mouth as a sob threatened to come out. No, no, no. I wouldn’t cry now.

  “I would rather say all this to your face instead of the door.” He groaned. “I know I said I was out, but … I saw Eric this morning at the club and, I don’t know, I was jealous, I guess. He looked happy. Very happy. And I realized that he couldn’t possibly be happy if you had broken up with him, because I know any guy had to be out of his mind if he was happy after breaking up with you. I’m afraid you changed your mind, that you didn’t break up with him. Please, tell me you broke up with him.”

  I sat down on the second to last step and waited, shaking and allowing only a few gasps of air in. Stay quiet, Hannah. Stay very quiet.

  After a long time, I finally heard a loud sigh followed by retreating steps. Then, I sighed too and allowed my breathing to come out normal again. Or almost normal.

  The tears fell freely, and I shook hard as the memories and the threats of the previous night came back with a vengeance, bringing back the pain. I still hadn’t taken a shower and cleaned the cuts and scratches. I probably looked like shit. I felt like shit.

  But first, ibuprofen. I needed more ibuprofen before I passed out from pain.

  Believing I had some in the kitchen, I pushed myself up from the stairs and inched down the hallway.

  I found the medicine inside my junk drawer and popped two inside my mouth. I opened the fridge, grabbed a water bottle, and drank half of it in a big gulp.

  I inhaled deeply, taking in as much of the permanent vanilla scent as I could, hoping it could comfort me.

  My stomach growled, and I realized I hadn’t eaten for over twenty-four hours, if I didn’t count last night’s dinner, because I only picked at my food.

  I surveyed the contents of the fridge, and browsed the cabinets. There was nothing I wanted to eat. My stomach was asking for food, but I didn’t think I could eat anything. I gave up and turned to my coffee machine. In no time, I had a large steaming cup of dark, strong coffee. I held the mug to my face and inhaled deeply, savoring the yummy and comforting scent.

  My mind betrayed me, going back to what I wanted to deny.

  There had to be a way out of this mess; I just had to think hard and find it. And I had to be quick too, because Eric’s practice would go on for only two or three more hours, then he would be back. I shuddered. Shit, I was so not ready to face him again.

  A hinging sound came from the living room, and I almost dropped the mug on my feet. I set the mug down and held my breath.

  Shit. Eric was here early, and I hadn’t had time to think. I had no idea how to confront him and I probably only had a few seconds before he barged in. I hoped he had a good practice this morning, because then his mood would be a little better. If he hadn’t …… I was doomed.

  I laced my fingers behind my back to control my shaking, and decided I should go to him. Unafraid. Strong.

  I stepped into the corridor th
at led back to the front of the house and bumped into him. I jumped back, alarmed as soft hands held my hands and pulled me closer.

  Leo. In his polo clothes and boots and damp hair and wide eyes.

  “How did you get in?” I croaked.

  “O que é isso?” He pushed me back into the kitchen and turned me to the sunlight streaming in through the large window. His gaze traveled my face, down my arms. He turned my shoulders a little and stared at my neck too. Then, his eyes narrowed and he growled, “I’m gonna kill him.”

  He marched to the door, probably intent on driving to the club and punching Eric—which would have been nice—but I couldn’t let that happen. I dashed after him and held his arms, pulling him back.

  “It’s not what you think,” I said, panic rising inside of me.

  He faced me; his expression was incredulous. “You’re gonna deny it?”

  “Actual—”

  “Por favor, don’t tell me you fell down the stairs, or tripped and hit your face on the doorknob, because, whatever you say, I know what happened here.” He raised his hand, and it hovered over my cheek and my neck. He picked a shard from my shoulder, and I winced in pain. “Filho duma puta, I can’t believe he did this.”

  My eyes watered instantly. “Please …”

  “Please, what?” His hand dropped to his side, his fist clenched. “Please go after that bastard and kick the life out of him. With pleasure!”

  “No!” I sobbed, feeling too weak, too drained to keep breathing. I leaned against the island. “No, please. You … you don’t understand.”

  “Then explain it to me,” he said, his tone harsh. I lowered my gaze and shook my head. Then Leo was right in front of me, his gentle hands on my arms. “Was this the first time?”

  “Leo, forget about this.”

  “Hannah, answer my questions, or I’ll have to interrogate the bastard before kicking his ass.” He put a finger under my chin and raised my face to his. “How long has this been happening?” I glanced at the wall above his shoulder, but he shifted to the side, putting his face in my line of sight. “Talk to me, morena. I can already tell this wasn’t the first time. I want to know for how long.”

  I remained quiet. I wanted to tell him everything, I really did, but that would sound like I couldn’t take care of myself and needed him to save me. Not that I could take care of myself, but I hated the idea of looking helpless and broken. Although, I was sure that was exactly how he saw me right now. I didn’t want to be the poor princess in the tower, waiting to be rescued by the handsome prince. I wanted to do my own rescuing, though I couldn’t see how. All the ways I saw to escape—going to the police, leaving the ranch—opened problem-door X or Y, and I couldn’t afford that.

  “All right.” Leo sighed, looking around. He released me and started opening and closing drawers and cabinets.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Looking for your first aid kit.” He looked up from a drawer. “Wait, no. Maybe it’s better if we take you to the police station like that.”

  “No, no. I can’t—”

  “The blood and the shards will make quite an impression,” he continued. “Though, does it still hurt? We could clean up a bit, where it hurts the most. How about pain medicine, do you have some?”

  “Stop!” I yelled.

  Leo turned his worried eyes to me. “What?”

  I took a deep breath. “I’m not going to the police.”

  Frustration replaced the worry on his features. “What?”

  “I … can’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t.” I didn’t know what else to do, what else to say. “I think you better go before he comes back.”

  Leo halted in front of me. “Do you hear yourself?”

  “Please, don’t make it worse than it is.”

  “Worse? If it’s bad, why don’t you want to go to the police with me?” He took one of my hands and held it in a cocoon within his. “At least, come with me. We can talk more about going to the police later. Come with me.”

  My heart hurt more than my face and my cuts. If Eric came back and I wasn’t here, he would go after Hilary. “I can’t.”

  “I don’t understand.” He raised my hand to his lips, and kissed my moon-shaped scar, ever so softly. It would have been a perfect sensual moment, if I weren't so broken. “What did he do to you? How come you’re defending him?”

  I pulled my hand away. “I’m not defending him. I … I can’t.”

  “He’s threatening you.” Leo cursed under his breath in Portuguese. “What are his threats? Tell me, morena. I want to help you. Tell me what he’s threatening you with, and we can find a solution for it together.”

  Could we?

  I stared into his eyes, into his beautiful green-blue eyes, into the strength and hope and worry in them, and I suddenly wondered, why not? I trusted him, so why not tell him everything, every little detail. He would probably hate me for being weak, but I had to take this chance. I wasn’t coming up with any new ideas on my own, so maybe he would understand my side and help me think of other ways, other solutions. Besides, if I didn’t let him help me, who would?

  Once more, I was struck by how much I was into him. Not just his looks or his skill with horses, but because of the way he looked at me, because he cared about me.

  “Eric was always jealous, since the first day he showed interest in me. With time, his jealousy grew.” I paused. Confessing what had been right in front of me all of these years was harder than I expected. “He also—”

  “WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING HERE?” Eric’s voice boomed from the kitchen doorway.

  A second later, his fist was on Leo’s jaw. Leo staggered back, but he deflected Eric’s next hit, and gave one of his own, punching Eric’s stomach.

  Eric doubled over and glared at Leo.

  “Bastard!” Leo shouted. “You’re gonna pay for what you did to her.” He raised his fist to come at Eric again.

  But Eric, being the gentleman he was, grabbed my arm and pulled me in the way. With wide eyes, Leo pulled back as much as he could with the momentum he had gained, and was able to change the course of his fist in the last second.

  Eric laughed, sounding demented, and I tried squirming out of his hold. His arm tightened around my waist. “Stop fighting,” he whispered in my ear.

  I flinched.

  With fists clenched, Leo hovered close to us, unsure how to advance. “Get your hands off her!”

  “Why?” Eric tilted his head to the side. “She’s mine. I can do whatever I want with her. You’re the one interrupting us and you should leave, before I have to hurt you.”

  Leo snarled. “I’m the one who’s gonna hurt you and make you regret ever being born.”

  Leo grabbed my arm and pulled me to him, while Eric held me even tighter. I felt like I was being ripped in two. Trying to gain some advantage, Leo used his long legs and kicked Eric’s hip, missing me by less than an inch.

  The grip around me loosened, and I pried myself from it. Leo’s arms found me and held me to him, his touch gentle and worried.

  He slipped his hand in mine and beckoned me to the door. “Let’s go.”

  I started running with him. Across the kitchen. Out the door. Past the porch.

  “Baby, aren’t you forgetting something?” Eric’s voice was filled with superiority. And threats.

  My heart dove to the depths of despair, and I skidded to a stop.

  Leo tugged my hand. “Come on.”

  I glanced over my shoulder, to Eric’s evil eyes. He mouthed “Hilary,” and my blood turned cold. Oh shit.

  “I can’t,” I whispered, letting go of Leo’s hand.

  “What are you doing?” He reached for me and I retreated. “Morena?”

  A sob shook my body. “I can’t go. I’m sorry.” I took a couple of steps back, and Eric met me halfway.

  He put his hand around my waist possessively, his smug winning expression on his face. “You should leave,” he said, his eyes intent on Leo.

 
“Hannah.” Leo gave a step toward me, and I stepped the opposite way. He stopped, his expression puzzled. “You can’t stay here, Hannah.”

  I lowered my head, because I couldn’t keep staring at him. “I can.”

  “But it doesn’t mak—”

  “Didn’t you hear her?” Eric interrupted him, his voice rising. “Leave now before I make you leave.”

  “You can’t make me leave,” Leo retorted. “I won’t leave.”

  I took a deep breath. “Please, Leonardo, leave.”

  Even with my eyes on the ground, I saw his flinch and I could imagine the shock in his beautiful features.

  “You can’t be serious,” he whispered.

  “I am.” I swallowed the tears threatening to make their way out. “I want you to leave, and please, do not return.”

  “No, you can’t—”

  Eric’s fingers clasped my skin like a claw. “Leave!” I yelled as the tears clouded my vision. “Please, leave now.” He didn’t move, and Eric’s fingertips dug into my flesh. “Leave now!”

  With slow movements, Leo did leave. He stopped several times, and I thought it was to give me the chance to changing my mind, but I couldn’t.

  Eric and I stood there, like statues, watching as Leo’s SUV left the property. When he was long gone, Eric placed a gentle kiss on my temple.

  “You’ve been a very, very bad girl, baby. Very bad.” He placed his other hand around my waist and turned me to him. He leaned over, and I did my best not to shudder, cry, yelp, or run. “Very bad,” he whispered against my lips. His hand snaked up to my hair, his fingers weaving with the strands. I was about to get sick, thinking he wanted me to kiss him back, or worse, but instead, he grabbed a handful of my hair in his fist and turned me around. Like a caveman, he pulled me to the house.

  I yelped. “Eric.” I paused. I almost said you’re hurting me, but maybe he would only put more force into it then. “What are you doing?”

  He didn’t answer right away. He took me inside, closed the door behind us, and turned me around to face him, without releasing his grip from my hair.

 

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