by Amy Olle
Understanding reached her in stages.
New project.
Home.
A few weeks.
She experienced the knowledge like an icy touch winding its way through her body, to her chest, where it squeezed mercilessly.
Her heart gave an awful wrench.
The water had stopped, and she turned dazedly as Noah stepped through the bathroom door. A cloud of steam and the scent of her shampoo wafted into the bedroom with him. He wore a towel tucked around his lean waist, and his wet hair stuck out in all directions, the ends just beginning to curl.
“Have you eaten?” he asked. “I’m starving.”
Mina made no response as he pulled on a pair of loose-fitting running pants. The St. Nicholas pendant glinted on his bare chest.
He stilled when he saw her face. His brow furrowed in silent question.
She held out the phone. “It was Anna.” Her voice sounded faint to her own ears. She caught the flicker of surprise that flashed across his face before he concealed it. “She said to tell you the project is all set.” Mina swallowed with difficulty. “She’s excited for you to come home.”
Color rose high on his cheekbones.
On suddenly unsteady legs, she sagged back against the exposed brick wall. “You’re leaving?”
The outrageous copper of his eyes speared her. “The excavation is done. My appointment at ESU is over at the end of this semester.”
A week, maybe two.
The Celtic cross tattooed on his right bicep stood as a testament to his wild youth. She blinked back tears.
“I always planned to go back to Ireland,” he said.
She swallowed the tight knot clogging her throat. “When do you leave?”
“The end of this month.”
Silence dropped like a sledgehammer between them.
He didn’t quite meet her eyes when he spoke. “Or... I could stay.”
The answer nearly flew from her heart. Yes! Don’t leave me. Never leave me. Except, she’d promised him that when the time came, she wouldn’t beg.
Her cheeks warmed and she ducked her chin. “No, you should go. Of course you should go.”
His soft footfalls echoed in the silent room as he crossed to her. Her heart thrashed in her chest.
Her nerves grew taut under his relentless gaze.
“If you want me to stay—”
“I’d never ask that of you.” She injected as much strength into her voice as she could manage. It was all she could do to reassure him she wouldn’t fall to pieces at his feet.
He pulled up abruptly.
She kept talking, only faster now. “You’re right. You’ve never been anything but honest with me.”
He rammed a hand through his hair. He might have cursed. Then he jerked back around. The movement, swift and severe, triggered an instinct born of betrayal, and Mina flinched.
The tell was slight but suppressed too late. Noah saw it and stilled.
When she witnessed what lay naked in his eyes, the acrid tang of fear flooded her mouth.
He spoke in a low, lethal tone. “Mina, what is going on?”
“Nothing.” Her quick reply was toneless.
“Don’t lie to me. Not about this.”
The cool admonishment stung. Her stomach began to churn.
“That pervert at the pub—”
Her eyes flew to his. He meant to draw her pain into the light. Terror swamped her. “How did you...?”
“Did he hurt you?”
“No, it wasn’t him.”
She realized her mistake almost immediately.
Time slowed as the warm molasses in his eyes cooled with anger and fear.
And knowledge.
He knew. Simply reached out and touched the truth, as if he, too, bore witness to the waking nightmares.
Her field of vision narrowed. There were no words, no thoughts. Nothing. Only panic and shame.
“Someone else hurt you? Who? When?”
His words reverberated through her like a hundred tiny earthquakes. Walls crumbled and fell away, and the memories flooded in, vivid and real.
Denials fell from her lips. “No one. Nothing happened.”
Deep in her heart, she knew Noah wouldn’t blame her for what had happened all those years ago, but he was right. She was afraid. Mostly, she feared the way he’d look at her if he knew the truth. That the tenderness she sometimes glimpsed in his eyes would change or be replaced by something else. Something closer to disgust or pity, and in his seeing her differently, she’d be forced to see herself differently, too.
Then she’d be different.
“You can tell me anything, you know that, don’t you?”
She almost hated him for seeing what she really was, except it was her own weakness that revolted her.
Someone hadn’t hurt her.
Someone had ruined her.
“No.” She forced the word through jagged breaths.
Noah cursed and slipped a hand beneath the curtain of her hair. He kneaded her nape until she relaxed. Her breathing slowed.
His voice deepened with emotion. “Don’t shut me out, a mhuirnin. Please.”
Cold terror snapped and snarled through her. She recoiled, shaking her head.
“If you’re so sure I’m hiding something, why even ask me?” A nasty edge crept into her voice, which didn’t match the anguish in her heart.
His hand on her neck stilled. “I’m not sure of anything. If you’d just talk to me, help me understand. You’ve been distant—”
She gasped and jerked away from his touch. “I warned you about that, didn’t I?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“You should go,” she said.
“Mina, don’t do this. Let me in. Let me help you.”
“I don’t want your help. I want you to leave.”
His face hardened, obscuring all the soft contours she loved so well.
“You said you loved me. Was that a lie?”
Tears streamed silently down her cheeks. “No.”
His features softened. “Then talk to me. Tell me—”
“No.” Fear grabbed hold of her heart and lungs and squeezed. She gasped for air. “Never.”
He flinched as though she’d struck him. She glimpsed a moment of troubled anguish before he blanked his features. His hand dropped away.
“So, that’s it?”
Her silence was deafening, damning.
Decisive.
Through the haze of panic, she was aware that he moved through the carriage house. He gathered his belongings, rapidly and without care, removing his presence from her home and from her life in only a few short minutes. He left her there, back flat to the wall, and slammed out of the house.
The crash of the door released Mina from her paralysis, and she sank to the floor.
She let the darkness take her.
Chapter Thirty
She punished herself.
Day turned to night, and darkness gave way to daylight, a pattern that repeated itself several times without Mina leaving her bed.
She stared at the bedroom ceiling, screaming inside, as she relived her rape. How could this have happened to her? Why? Had she done something to cause her own rape?
It wasn’t rational, but logic had nothing to do with the degradation done to her. Reason could not combat madness.
Self-hate took root inside her, a gnarly, beastly thing that pushed out all peace and faith from her heart, until she couldn’t imagine a future where she might live with this truth.
She longed for escape, anything that’d end the nightmare. Scrub the evil from her soul. For his evil was now hers.
He’d been drunk for days, but all the wine in Shea’s cellar couldn’t make him forget her. Not this time.
Noah flopped onto Shea’s couch and shoved the heels of his hands into his eye sockets.
“You look like shit,” Shea said.
Noah laid his head on the couch back and closed his eyes. “I feel like shit.
”
He hadn’t been hungover in years, the agony made worse for the fact of his being stuck in this town, near her but not able to touch her, talk to her, or tease her until the sound of her laughter filled a room.
The soft leather groaned as Shea lowered himself into an armchair. “Everything all right?”
“Everything’s fucking fine.”
Shea hesitated. “You don’t sound fine.”
Noah rolled his head upright. “Is this why you called me here?”
“We’re doing family dinner at the pub Friday night. You should come by.”
“Can’t.” Noah let his head fall back. “I need to wrap things up before I leave.”
A charged silence infused the air.
Noah cracked open one eye. “What?”
“Does Mina know you’re leaving?”
Noah closed his eye. “She knows.”
Another damnable silence followed.
“When do you leave?”
“Day after classes end.”
“Which is when?” A biting chill snuck into Shea’s tone.
Noah swallowed a beat of hesitation. “Friday.”
Shea’s sour chuckle gave way to a sigh, heavy with bitterness.
Noah fixed him with a stony glare. “I need to work.”
“Whatever you say.” Shea shoved to his feet.
Devil take him, Noah took the bait. “You think I’m running away.”
Shea whipped around. “No, not running.” He balled his hands into fists, but rather than explode, he clenched his mouth shut with ruthless resolve, as if swallowing back the words he wished to say.
“Christ, Shea, just say it. I can tell you’re dying to.”
“Fine. I don’t think you’re running away. I think you’re deserting us.”
That stunned Noah to silence a moment. “Are you serious right now?”
The ire seemed to drain out of Shea. “I’m not mad that you left or that you stayed away. I think you did what you thought you had to do, and for the record, I honestly believe you made the right decision. I don’t begrudge you your choices, Noah. I admire you for them.”
The shaking started in Noah’s hands and soon spread through his entire body.
“But I also think it cost you,” Shea said.
Noah’s bitter laugh was part pained sob.
“None of that matters now.” The edge in Shea’s tone melted away. “You were only a kid then. You’re not a kid now.”
Exhaustion dragged on Noah and he held out his hands. “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to do what’s best for you this time.”
Noah’s emotions churned near the surface. Mercifully, Shea turned to leave.
Except, he didn’t. At the desk in the corner, he stopped. The teardrop knob clattered against wood when he slammed the top drawer shut and, twisting back around, strode toward Noah on the couch.
“Here.” He thrust a small green box at Noah.
Noah quirked an eyebrow. “What’s this?”
“Mom’s wedding ring. I found it going through Dad’s things.”
Noah staggered to his feet. “I don’t want to see it.”
Shea shoved the box in Noah’s direction. “I’m not showing it to you. I want you to have it.”
“Why?”
“It’s a family heirloom,” Shea growled.
“Then you keep it,” Noah bit off, incredulous.
“I bought Isobel a ring twenty years ago. I don’t need another one.”
“Give it to Luke or Jack.” Noah’s arms moved wildly as he spoke. “Leo was too young when she died. He should have it.”
Shea smoothed one thumb over the box’s glossy surface. “She’d want you to have it.”
Noah’s desperation bordered on panic. “How do you know that?”
“I just do.” His arm shot out and he let go.
Noah lunged to catch the box before it tumbled to the floor.
“You should come Friday, before you go,” Shea tossed over his shoulder on his way out of the room.
“I need to work,” Noah called after him.
But he was already alone, in a suddenly haunted room.
Chapter Thirty-One
Mina stared open-mouthed at the bounteous variety of toilet tissue. Standing in the aisle at Mike’s, the necessity that forced her to get out of bed now overwhelmed.
“Mina?”
Mina turned at the sound of a woman’s voice.
“Omigod, you look amazing.” Abbie let out a delighted squeal as she bore down on Mina. “How much weight have you lost?”
Mina managed a wooden smile. Had she lost weight? “I... I don’t know...” She trailed off as she recalled her reflection in the mirror before she left the house. Red, bruised eyes, sallow skin, limp, dirty hair. She looked sick.
She was sick.
“Are you starving?” Abbie asked. “My New Year’s resolution is to lose ten pounds. How did you do it?”
Mina stared into Abbie’s openly curious face.
All her life, Mina had been chubby, and after her rape, she’d cloaked herself in dark, baggy clothing in an attempt to hide herself away from the interested gazes of the boys her age, preferring her mom’s criticisms to their attention.
But now, when despair and helplessness ate away at her, she received compliments for her appearance.
Seriously?
A seed of anger sprouted in the pit of her stomach. “I’ve got the flu,” she lied.
“Oh, well, that’s one way to do it, I suppose.” Abbie’s laughter faded, and, growing serious, she darted quick glances to her left and right. “I cannot believe that rat ex of yours. What a jerk, huh?”
They blinked at each other.
“I’m sorry, who?” Mina asked.
“Drew.”
“Drew?”
Abbie gasped. “You haven’t heard?”
“Heard what?” Dread formed with Mina’s words.
“His wife filed for an annulment after only one month.” Abbie’s cheeks flushed pink with excitement. “She found out he was doing some creative accounting with his office assistant and showed up at City Hall with a baseball bat. Can you believe it?”
“I think I might be able to,” Mina muttered.
“Oh, I wish I could’ve seen it. No one was hurt,” Abbie was quick to add.
Bile rose in Mina’s throat and stopped her from assuring Abbie many people had most certainly been hurt when Drew went off like a dirty bomb, detonating in their midst. Everyone suffered the collateral damage. His family, Frannie Howard, his employees, even the citizens of Thief Island who’d put their trust in him and voted him into office. They deserved better than him.
Mina plucked a random pack of tissue from the shelf and aimed for the checkouts.
“Let’s get together for lunch sometime soon.”
Mina lifted a hand in a half wave to Abbie and kept walking.
She drove home, a haze of fury churning inside her. She’d tried so hard for so long to change who she was. To twist and bend herself into the person she thought they wanted her to be. To hide a truth so dark and ugly it would destroy them all if they found out.
Disgust at her warped and pathetic need filled her.
The anger unfolded layer upon layer, until a lifetime of denials burned away. Suddenly, the veil was lifted.
Why had she tried so hard to become someone else? Why was she so convinced the defect lay inside her? She’d been seventeen at the time of her rape. A child, full of sincerity and affection. Her desire to please, to appease, so strong it’d outweighed even her instinct for self-protection.
He’d taken advantage of that. Preyed upon it.
Afraid she would be sick, Mina raced up the rickety porch stairs. She barred the bathroom door behind her. At the sink, she splashed cold water on her face and forced air through her lungs with long, painful breaths.
When the nausea passed, she crawled to her bed and hid beneath the covers. She craved sleep, for it w
as her only escape from the torment of her own mind.
She awoke sometime later to darkness and a pillow wet with tears. Grief pressed down on her, and she feared it would never ease. How could it? Nothing could give her back what was lost. She grieved all that’d been taken from her. Mostly, she mourned the loss of the tenderhearted person she’d been before her rape.
Before she’d become fearful and untrusting, her heart hardened to others. To men, all of whom she regarded with accusation in her eyes.
Good men, like Noah, who didn’t deserve her condemnation.
She recalled the anguish that had slashed across his face when she’d flinched away from him.
He’d extended a hand, offering to help pull her out of the darkness, and she’d slapped it away.
She was a coward, spending all her damn time trying to be likable when the problem was she didn’t like herself.
When next she opened her eyes, daylight streamed through the cracks in her window coverings. A pounding took up inside her skull while nausea churned inside her stomach. She rubbed her temples, waiting for the sickness to pass, but the pounding in her head only grew louder.
No, not in her head. Another sequence of sharp knocks rattled through her.
The door. Someone was at the door.
On heavy legs, she slogged through the carriage house, unbolted the lock, and pulled open the front door. Bright sunlight poured inside and she raised a hand to shelter her eyes.
She squinted into the light to find Emily hovering hesitantly in the doorway.
Mina fought through the apathy of despair. “Emily? What are you doing here?”
Uncertainty shimmered in Emily’s toffee-colored eyes. “I thought— We talked about a visit—” She gnawed her bottom lip. “Did you forget I was coming?”
Shock seized the gears of Mina’s mind.
“I should’ve called or texted.” At the twinge of vulnerability in Emily’s voice, Mina fought through the cobwebs.
“No.” Her throat was dry, and Mina’s voice cracked. She swallowed painfully. “I did, I forgot. I’m sorry.”
Soulful brown eyes swept over Mina. “Are you okay?”
Mina’s face heated with shame. “I... I’ve been sick.”
Calm determination wiped all uncertainty from Emily’s face. “Then it’s a good thing I’m here.”
