by Ivy Layne
“Tell Mrs. W we need a tea tray,” I said, “Tell her to make it strong and sweet.” Amelia hesitated, clearly wanting to ask what was wrong. “Now, Amelia,” I said, working to keep my voice gentle.
With a worried glance at Sophie, Amelia left. Sophie raised her head off my chest and tried to climb out of my arms. I sat on the couch and pulled her closer, stroking her hair back from her tear stained face.
“Angel, it's okay. He's not going to get to you. You never have to see him again. You're safe from him, I promise.”
She drew in a shuddering breath and said, “I have to leave. He's going to come back, and I have to leave. I can't stay, I can't let you protect me like this. I can't, I can’t—”
“Shhh, Angel. It's going to be okay; I'm not going to let anything happen to you.”
“You deserve better than this. Better than me. I stayed with him. I let him hurt me. I'm not strong enough for this. For you.”
“Sophie, no.” It was like she didn't hear me. She closed her eyes and sobbed so hard her body shook with it. It felt like she cried for hours. Amelia returned with the tea tray and waited patiently until Sophie finally ran out of tears.
I hadn’t wanted to leave her while she was crying, but I needed to talk to Aiden. I needed to make sure Anthony Armstrong was gone. I settled Sophie into the couch and stood. Crouching in front of her, I wiped the tears from her cheeks with the pads of my thumbs and tried to get her to meet my eyes. Her green gaze was dull and fixed on the carpet.
“I need to go talk to Aiden,” I said, softly. “We won't let him near you again, do you understand?”
All I got was a tiny nod. I kissed her gently and straightened. Amelia slid beside her and pulled Sophie close, tucking Sophie's head against her shoulder and stroking her arm.
“I won't be long,” I promised and slipped from the room.
Chapter Thirty-One
Sophie
I wanted to call Gage back, to beg him to pull me into his arms again, to promise one more time that he could keep me safe. My worst nightmare had come to life the moment I saw Anthony at the front door of Winters House.
Worse than the beatings.
Worse than the fear that he’d kill me in a fit of rage and bury my body in the woods.
I'd had two years of freedom. I'd found love. I was happy. And then suddenly he was there, telling me to come home with him in that calm, icy voice I knew too well.
I felt that voice deep inside, freezing me, chilling my heart and stealing it from Gage. I couldn't love Gage. I couldn't be with him. He deserved so much better than a woman who had married a monster.
A woman who had stayed with that monster after he’d unmasked himself.
I thought I'd forgiven myself for that. Maybe I did forgive myself, but I was still a frightened, broken thing. Anthony had hurt me, and I’d stayed, too weak and afraid to leave him. Afraid he’d kill me. Afraid he’d go too far in his rage and bury me in the cold earth in the woods behind the house.
I should have run. I should have taken the risk. I’d faced pain so many times, but when it came down to it, I was too afraid of dying to reach for freedom.
Gage deserved so much better than a woman paralyzed by fear. He deserved so much better than a shattered mess. One sight of Anthony and I fell to pieces. Gage had survived six months as a prisoner of war. He’d never given up. Gage had escaped.
I’d never asked him how many times he tried to get away, but I'd bet it was more than two. He'd fought for himself. He deserved a woman who could do the same.
Amelia’s gentle strokes on my arm centered me after my endless crying fit. I hated that she’d seen me weeping like a child. I lifted my head from her shoulder and sat up, scrubbing at my face with my palms.
“Drink this,” she said, pushing a teacup into my hands. I sipped lukewarm, overly sweet tea.
Without thinking, I said, “I need to leave. If Anthony's alive, and we're still married, I can't stay here. I can't be with Gage. I have to leave.”
“Don't be foolish,” Amelia said in her best no-nonsense voice. “You need to stay exactly where you are. We’re your family, and this is your home. Gage loves you. I know you love him.”
“He deserves better than me,” I said, needing to get it out, to hear the words spoken aloud and make them real. “He fell in love with me because I was here and I'm convenient, but he's so much stronger than I am. I’m so scared. All the time. I thought I was getting past it, but one look at Anthony and I fell apart.”
“Sophie,” Amelia said, trying to soothe me. I wasn’t having it.
“No. You don’t understand. He hit me, and I stayed. He beat me and kicked me like a dog, and I stayed. How can I ask Gage to love a woman like that?”
Amelia handed me a cookie and said, “Eat this. You need sugar in your brain. You're not making any sense.”
“I'm making perfect sense,” I snapped back, her brusque manner sparking temper that should have been extinguished by all my tears.
“Rubbish,” she insisted, pushing the cookie into my hand. “Eat. If I can't have it, I don't want to see it go to waste. Perfectly good shortbread. She knows that's my favorite.”
The familiar grumble brought me back to myself a little bit more. I straightened, taking a bite of the cookie. Salty, buttery, sweet shortbread melted over my tongue. I was the only one who knew that Abel baked shortbread because it was Mrs. W's favorite dessert, and he'd been sweet on her for years. I hadn't yet figured out if she returned his feelings.
At the thought that I might have to leave Winters House without ever knowing, new tears sprung to my eyes. I blinked them back. No more crying. I had to figure out what to do.
I nibbled the rest of the cookie, took a sip of tea, and tried to make sense of my roiling emotions. A part of me wanted to run out of the room and find Gage, to burrow into his strength and love. To let him protect me as he’d promised he would.
I couldn’t. I was still trying to process seeing Gage and Anthony standing almost side by side. They were so different. Anthony's elegant, smooth façade covered the heart of a monster. Gage was so strong, body and mind, his heart loyal and true.
How could a woman who'd chosen the monster deserve the hero?
There was a weakness in me, a weakness had led me to marry Anthony, had convinced me to give in, to stay when I should've kept trying to run.
“Stop it,” Amelia said in a sharp voice.
“What?” I asked.
“Whatever you're thinking, stop it. I can see it in your eyes. You're doing his work for him, you know.”
I stared at her, baffled. “What are you talking about?”
“Your husband. You're doing his work for him. He wants you scared, so you'll do what he says and go back to him. And here you are, convincing yourself that you somehow deserve less because of him. It's not true, and you know better.”
“Amelia,” I said, “It’s not—”
Impatient with my protests, she cut me off. “What would you tell me? If our places were switched, what would you tell me?”
“It's not the same, Amelia. It's complicated.”
“It's always complicated, Sophie. I know you have more backbone than this.”
“Because I won't let you have your cookies?”
“Because you've survived everything he did to you. He used you. He tried to grind you into nothing, and you survived.
I shook my head. The shortbread turned to sawdust in my mouth, and I put the rest down on the tray. “You don't understand. I didn't leave. I stopped fighting, and I didn't leave. I gave up. I was afraid.”
“Bullshit,” Amelia proclaimed in a crisp voice. “You survived. You've already told me. You tried to leave twice, and the second time he caught you, he almost killed you. So you decided to survive and then fate handed you a way out. You underestimate yourself, Sophie. You think that strength is fighting, is kicking and screaming and yelling, or imposing your will on another the way he did to you. But sometimes strength is in endu
ring. It's waking up every day and facing the pain, knowing you’ll do it again and again, for as long as you have to. There are a lot of ways to give up, Sophie. You didn't choose any of them. You kept yourself alive long enough to escape.”
“If he hadn't died, I'd still be there,” I said, choking a little at the thought. I wanted to believe Amelia was right. I wanted to see myself the way she saw me, as strong and brave.
“Maybe,” she said. “Maybe you would. Maybe you'd still be waiting for that chance. Or maybe he would've been arrested when they got someone else to testify against those people he worked for. You don't know. We'll never know what might've happened; you only have what did happen. And what did happen is that you took a job with us, at Winters House. And you fell in love with Gage, and he fell in love with you. There is no way on God's green earth that boy is going to let you leave this house while the man who hurt you is out there. I promise you that.”
“I'm married,” I said, and the words felt heavy in my mouth, sticky with despair. I was married. I was committing adultery with Gage, and I hadn't even known it. I was tied to Anthony, and I'd been dragging him into our bed. I swallowed hard in revulsion at the thought.
“Aiden has an excellent divorce lawyer,” Amelia said, handing me another piece of shortbread. “He needed her to get free of that viper he married.”
“How long does it take to get divorced?” I asked, turning the novel thought over in my mind. Divorce. Anthony was alive, and we were still married, but we didn't have to stay that way.
“I have no idea, but we'll find out.”
I ate the second cookie mechanically, thinking hard. Amelia's voice interrupted, “Do you love him?”
“No!” The denial erupted from my mouth before I had time to think. “No, I don't think I ever loved him, but not now. Not after the first time he hit me.”
Amelia reached out and squeezed my hand. “Not Anthony, silly girl. I meant Gage. Do you love Gage?”
“Oh,” I said, stupidly.
Gage. I didn't have to think about that. The first night we met, he'd scared the heck out of me when he grabbed me in the dark. I remembered the way he’d smelled my neck, and a tiny smile curved my lips. He’d been all raw energy, strung tight, and yet he’d apologized and walked me to my room. If I hadn't fallen for him that first night, I’d been well on my way after we’d shared that horrible tea. I was head over heels by the time he kissed me, tasting of chocolate cake and Gage.
So sweet and so strong.
Fierce and gentle.
How could I not love Gage?
“Hmph.” Amelia made a sound of dismissal in the back of her throat and reached for a cookie. Out of reflex, I smacked her hand. She scowled at me and said, “You were so lovestruck, staring into thin air, I figured you wouldn't notice if I snuck a cookie.”
“I always notice when you sneak cookies, Amelia Winters.”
“You are so head over heels in love with him you can't even answer a question when you think about him. How can you possibly consider walking out of this house? You'd tear him apart.”
“He deserves better,” I said again, though every time I repeated them, the words felt a little less true.
“Maybe he does,” Amelia agreed, surprising me. “Isn't that for him to decide? This isn’t about what he deserves; it's about what he wants. And he wants you. That boy has suffered through so much already. I never thought I'd see him happy again, the way he has been with you. Don't take that away out of some misguided idea that you're doing what's best for him.”
“I—”
I didn't get a chance to finish my thought. The door to the library opened, and Aiden entered, followed by Gage. They each took one of the armchairs opposite the couch and sat. Aiden glanced to Gage, who spoke first.
“Armstrong's story checks out. Cooper's been looking into him, and he's got a contact with the marshals. Armstrong walked away from protective custody, and they've cut him loose. No one knows exactly what he's been doing for the last six months. Aiden talked to Stephanie Marks. She handled his divorce, and he said she's the best. She's on her way here. She'll get started, including what you need to file for a restraining order.”
Aiden leaned forward and said, “We need you to stick to the house until we have a better idea what Armstrong is up to. I know you two enjoy getting out and taking walks, but I need you to put a hold on that just for a while.”
I nodded, not sure what to say. The practical part of my brain kicked in. “Amelia has a doctor appointment tomorrow. I need to drive her—”
“I'll take care of it,” Aiden said. “Mrs. W can bring her if I can't.”
I looked at Amelia to see how she was handling the idea of a doctor appointment escorted by Mrs. W but, oddly, she looked unperturbed. They seemed to have forged a fragile peace over their meddling. Mrs. W had been sternly disapproving of the fight in the dining room, but just as firmly in support of the note that had started it.
“How long does it take to get a divorce?” I asked, looking between Gage and Aiden. Gage looked to Aiden, and he shook his head.
“It depends. If both spouses agree, then it's fast.”
“I don't think he'll agree,” I said, darkly.
Aiden gave a sober nod. “He did not like my sending him away. Stephanie is very good, but you may have to be prepared to ride this out. If he refuses the divorce, you’ll have to go to court, and that takes time. I'll use what influence I have to speed it up but—”
“I don't expect you to—”
“Sophie, you're family. We have the power to make this easier for you, and we’re going to use it. Don't argue.”
“I'm not family,” I protested. “I—”
“Aiden, Amelia, I need a minute alone with Sophie,” Gage said, his eyes locked on mine, as serious as I'd ever seen them. I found it impossible to look away. I heard the others leave, closing the door behind them.
“I'm married,” I whispered, feeling tears prick the back of my eyes again. I didn't want to be married. I wanted to be free. I'd thought I was coming to Gage free.
“I don't care,” Gage said. “I love you. That's all I care about. That’s all that matters.”
“Okay,” I said. “Okay.”
Gage stood and crossed to me, leaning over and scooping me off the couch. He sat, settling me into his chest and kissed the top of my head.
“Don't take off on me,” he said in a low voice. “I know you're scared to death and I know this is messing with your head. It's messing with mine too. Just knowing that guy is alive and breathing after what he did to you… Angel, it's taking everything I have not to hunt him down and tear him apart.”
I tried to sit up, pulling against his arms. “Gage, you can't do anything like that. You can't—”
“I know. I know, because I want to spend the rest of my life with you, not rotting in jail for murder. So I'm ignoring my instincts. We're going to do this the right way. We're going to get you free of him. We're going to figure this out step-by-step. We can handle it, as long as we stay together, okay?”
I relaxed, pressing my forehead into his neck and absorbing the heat of his body against mine. I took his hand and played with his fingers, the simple intimacy grounding me.
“I love you,” I said. “I’m sorry I freaked out. He… I saw him, and it was like a nightmare, but I was awake and I just… I just lost it.”
“I know, Angel. I know.”
“I’m scared,” I admitted. “I could put it behind me when I thought he was dead, but knowing he’s still out there…”
“He’s not going to get to you,” Gage promised.
I knew he meant it, but I couldn’t help my fear. Anthony’s ghost had haunted my dreams, kept me from sleeping in the two years since his death. The sudden knowledge that he was alive, that the ghost was real…it was too much.
“He came back for me. He’s not going to let me go.”
“He can’t have you,” Gage said. “You belong with me.”
We s
at there on the couch until the divorce lawyer arrived, not really talking, just being there. Together. Gage stayed while I talked to Stephanie Marks, holding my hand the entire time.
She was brusque and efficient, but the fire in her eyes when I explained my situation was comforting. I tried to ask Gage about her fee and he pressed a finger across my lips.
“No.”
“But—”
He shook his head and pressed his finger harder.
“No, Sophie. I promise I won't hunt down your soon to be ex-husband and kill him in cold blood. In return, you agree to let me take care of your attorney’s fees.”
When he put it like that… I did the only sensible thing and nodded my head.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Sophie
The next twenty-four hours were anti-climactic. I was on the edge of my seat waiting for my phone to ring, for a knock at the door, but there was nothing. Anthony had disappeared as mysteriously as he’d appeared back in my life.
Stephanie Marks filed the paperwork for the restraining order, and it was granted almost immediately. I suspected Aiden's influence. She'd explained that the paperwork itself was as good as useless, but if he violated the order, it would only help my case in the divorce. Useless or not, the restraining order made me feel better.
Mrs. W drove Amelia to her appointment since Aiden and Gage had a meeting at the office they couldn't easily reschedule. Gage didn't want to leave me alone in the house, but I reassured him that I'd be fine.
The guard at the gate had strict instructions not to allow anyone on the property until they returned. There was another guard on the property, and the alarm was set.
I was safe in the house and I was going to be brave. That included not asking Gage to sit by my side. Anthony was alive. I was going to have to learn to deal with that.
The house was quiet with everyone gone. I tried to read a book but couldn't keep my attention on the page. Finally, I gave up and curled up on the couch in the library in front of the fire, listening to the hiss of the gas logs and watching the dancing flames.
