by Saxon, Diane
Not that it was her home, she thought as she lowered herself onto the curbside. Not that she felt she had a home of her own anymore. She’d just fooled herself into thinking she could play “happy families”.
She chewed the skin at the side of her thumb nail and glanced up as a young couple arrived at the restaurant, happy as they flirted together.
She thought she’d had it all. A little tweak and she could have had it all. And it came down to the fact that she hadn’t trusted Sam. He was right. If she had told him, he would have reacted differently tonight. She would not have been scared to face him. Scared. What an understatement. She was terrified.
She tucked her hair behind her ear and watched as a police car slowly rolled into the parking lot. Its blue lights flashed, almost like lightning. And then she remembered that night.
After Greg had raped her the first time, she had managed to get a restraining order on him. Not easy to accomplish when you were married to the lead singer of a famous band. Not easy to keep things out of the newspapers, but she had, and her life had settled down into a routine of writing songs as she waited for her babies to be born.
She’d moved into an apartment with Kate and lived a quiet life, giving birth to the twins with so few problems three weeks before her due date. Her life had been turned around by her pregnancy. She’d grown up overnight, taken her responsibilities as an adult seriously, seen the world through different eyes, and her rebellious nature had calmed.
Three weeks after the twins were born, Kate had been at work and Lydia had been alone in the apartment. She’d bathed the babies and put them down to sleep.
Head tucked into her knees, Lydia relived the moment when she turned from the cot to find Greg in the doorway, his eyes red-rimmed, his skin gray and clammy.
She could still feel the blood run cold through her veins, and her skin hurt as she remembered how he had brutalized her. He raped her three weeks after she had given birth and almost killed her. As he’d left her for dead, he had turned on her babies as they squalled with fright. His voice had raged far above the sounds of their distress, and he had reached into the cot to wrench one of them out as he screamed obscenities at her, threatening to kill her baby.
Lydia had no idea that she had picked up the scissors she had used earlier to open the packaging around the new twin baby rocker, but she still remembered the moment she plunged them deep into Greg’s chest. She still remembered the feel as she thrust with one fluid movement, the resistance as they entered his flesh, the wet sound they made as they pierced his body and found their target. She still remembered the thick, oozing blood that covered her hands and sprayed across her clothes, her arms, and her face.
He’d had a look of puzzlement on his drug-ravaged face as he dropped to his knees in front of her, as though he couldn’t believe that she was capable of such an act. Then he slowly keeled over on to his side, thick blood gushed from his mouth, and his blank eyes stared into hers.
She would never forget the smell, rich and metallic. She’d slid down the wall, leaving a smear of bright red blood as her strength sapped from her. She had waited for death to claim her as her babies screamed and blue lights lit up the room.
“Lydia?”
She raised her head slowly and gazed blindly into concerned, dark brown eyes.
“Lydia, are you okay?” The American twang brought her back to the present as she realized that Bill leaned over her, one hand gently resting on her shoulder.
“Ummm … I. Sam left me. Could you give me a lift back to Kate’s?”
“Sam wouldn’t have left you, honey.”
“He did.”
Bill’s face was the picture of confusion, but Lydia didn’t have the energy to explain.
“Okay, honey, I just have to go into the restaurant.” Bill’s voice was calm and soothing. “We had a call regarding a disturbance of the peace. I need to go and check it out. Do you want to get into the vehicle, and I’ll take you home when I’ve finished here?”
At Lydia’s slow nod, Bill disappeared into the restaurant, to return a short while after with an even more puzzled look on her face.
“Hell if I know what’s going on. They say there was a woman in there who murdered her husband, and another woman all dressed in black told her it was a good thing. They all left. I’m not sure what in hell’s name they want me to report. Nobody’s there, and no one caused any trouble apart from poking that snotty maître d’ in the chest. No one can I.D. the offenders, and I never saw a dead body anywhere.”
Bill leaned back, and her eyes scanned Lydia’s pale, drawn face.
“You got any thoughts on this, sugar?”
Lydia turned weary eyes toward Bill.
“Yes, I suppose I do.”
Chapter 12
Sam’s knuckles gave a sharp rap on the passenger window. Lydia whipped her head around, turbulent, green eyes huge in her pale face. Bill had drawn her police issue gun in less than a blink of an eye and had it pointed it unerringly at his face.
Dark and deadly, Sam raised his eyebrow at the weapon and, with an irritated flick of his hand, indicated for Bill to unlock the door.
“Sam, I nearly blew your goddamned head off. What in hell’s name were you thinking?”
“It wouldn’t have been worth the paperwork,” came Jack’s dulcet tones before Sam had the chance to reply. He ignored them both.
“Would you like to step out of the car, Lydia?” He leaned through the open doorway. Ice ran through his veins, the fury that he felt was being contained by that layer of ice. His eyes bored into hers.
“I’m sorry, Sam, I’m so sorry.”
“Step out of the car, Lydia.” He grit his teeth, hoping the ice would hold.
“I…” she stuttered, and as his patience snapped, he simply leaned forward and yanked her bodily out of the car to face him as Jack sauntered around to lean negligently against the side of the police vehicle. Bill sheathed her gun, unraveled her long frame from the driver’s seat, and sauntered around to lean next to Jack.
“I thought you’d gone. I thought you’d left me.” Lydia’s voice quavered, weak and defeated. “I’m sorry, Sam, I’m so sorry.”
He looked up at the sound of a truck as it skidded to a halt in the parking lot. Loud male voices were raised as a large group of ranch hands piled out from the truck and made straight for them.
“We heard there was trouble.” He recognized Carl’s voice and rolled his eyes as the old man led his men toward them.
Sam moved his position to block their view of Lydia.
Jack shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck wearily.
“Nothing we couldn’t handle, boys. Sam and I just saw a couple of trouble makers over the county line. They won’t be coming back. Now go back home and let Sam and Lydia sort their own business out.”
Sam heaved a sigh and ground his teeth as Carl stepped forward.
“Lydia? What are you doing letting Lydia get involved in trouble?” As Carl’s mothering instincts kicked in, he managed to maneuver his wiry frame between Sam and Lydia and draw her away from the police vehicle.
“I think you’ll find Lydia is the trouble.” Sam reached out to take her arm, but much to his disgust, she side-stepped him and stood behind Carl, eyes large and full of fear.
“I’m sorry, Sam. I can’t do this. I’ll go back with Carl. I have to go, I have to leave. I need to pack. I won’t embarrass you any further.” The words gushed out of her mouth, and he wondered if they had time to pass through her brain on the way.
“We’ll go back to England as soon as I can get a flight. I’ll make sure we stay out of your way until then. I’m so sorry … really, really sorry.” She turned to walk toward Carl’s pick up. A heavy silence descended, and the click of her sky-scraper heels was the only sound as she hurried across the tarmac.
“So, that’s it?” As she reached for the door handle, he raised his voice in the silence of the night.
He was aware of his brother as he st
raightened up from the hood of the truck, and he pinned him with a deadly stare for a moment before he returned his attention to Lydia. No one was going to interfere between him and his woman. She had opened the truck door and was about to step in.
“You’re going to apologize to me, again, and then you’re just going to walk away?” He couldn’t hold back the disbelief.
“I beg your pardon?” She turned on her heel and faced him.
“So, you’re just going to turn tail and run at the first obstacle?” he demanded.
“I would hardly call what just happened an obstacle.” Her voice gained strength with her own incredulity. “Were you there? Did you hear what she said?”
“Oh yeah, I heard every poisoned word out of her mouth. You know, Lydia, I thought you were made of stronger stuff. I thought you would come out punching your weight.” He stepped forward and mimed a punching motion, left and right.
“Instead it looks like you’re going to pack yourself and your kids up and go and hide away again. Where to this time?” He flung his arms wide, jutted his chin out, and felt the blood pound through his head.
“You can’t just slide back into the UK without being noticed. You’re too well-known.” He strode toward her and narrowed his eyes at her.
As Lydia opened her mouth to reply, he held up his hand to stop her.
“I never left you tonight.” He ground out, furious that she could even think he would have. “That God-awful woman threw a punch at me…” He touched the back of his hand to catch the thin trickle of blood that seeped from his nose and watched her eyes widen as though she had only just noticed. “…and the stupid jerk with her thought he might join in. I had to persuade them outside, while that cowardly little maître d’ locked the door behind me.” By the time I shuffled them into their car, Jack and Bill had arrived. I sent Bill to get you.”
Lydia stared at Bill, who shrugged as she continued to lean negligently against the squad car.
“Sure. I went back into the restaurant and told the maître d’ to report to the sheriff’s office tomorrow morning to explain why he would throw a poor, innocent woman onto the street, not bothering to make sure she was safe.” Bill’s wicked eyebrows twitched, and her mouth kicked up on one side. “Especially in light of the fact that the poor, innocent woman was the Sheriff’s sister-in-law. He nearly shit himself.”
A murmur of approval ran around the ranch hands. Bill had cleverly just averted a mobbing.
Sam studied Lydia.
“I thought I’d come back to see you spitting feathers and wanting blood. I guess I misjudged you this time, though. Maybe you lost your fighting spirit.”
Her chin lifted as she took a step back from him, nearer to the truck, eyes determined.
“Please don’t come near me. You’re right.” She nodded. “You did misjudge me. I don’t have a fighting spirit. I’m a coward. I run away from confrontations. It’s true, I killed my husband, but I never meant to.” He heard the collective gasp from the group of men, but let her continue regardless.
“He’d raped me. He was going to kill my babies, so I stabbed him with a pair of scissors, and he was dead. It was self-defense. I never meant to kill him, just to stop him hurting my babies. It doesn’t make me a murderer … or a hero. I can’t change what happened.” She looked frantic as she tried to make him understand. “But I can keep myself and my children away from any further danger.”
“You’re not in any danger from me.”
“No, but I may cause you problems just by being associated with me. Look what happened tonight.”
“I don’t want you to leave, Lydia. I love you. You’re the only woman for me.” He hoped to God he wasn’t going to have to beg in front of his men.
“How can you say that? You don’t know all there is to know about me.”
He could feel his own frustration bubble to the surface. “Well hell, I would have if you had trusted me. Which is what I’ve asked you to do all along. I wanted you to tell me yourself. I’ve been waiting for you to trust me…”
He glanced around at the interested faces of the boys on his crew.
“…it’s not as though it’s some big-ass secret, Lydia. You’re famous. Your information is plastered all over the Internet.” He pointed at her as he took a step closer.
“I Googled you the night you played sax for the first time.” Also the night she’d told him about the rape, but he wasn’t going to talk about that in front of the guys. “There was no way that you could play like that without being known. Not with that talent.”
He took another step closer, lifted his hand, and tenderly swept her wheat-blonde hair back behind her ear and then cupped her cheek. With a rueful smile, he shook his head slowly.
“I’ve known all there is to know about you since before we first made love.”
He was aware of the boys as they shuffled their feet uncomfortably. His brother made a choking sound and Bill snorted.
Blood rushed to her face and her lips parted, but she never gave a hint that she was aware anyone else existed but him.
“I can only say I love you more. I love you for your strength. I love you for your loyalty.” He felt his voice crack. “I love you for the pain you suffered, and the adversity you’ve overcome.”
“…but I’m a coward.”
As he looked into her upturned face, he realized she may not have been totally honest with him, but he had no right to judge her when all she had wanted to do was protect herself and her kids. He remembered the look on her face when he had picked her up earlier that night. She had been determined and stoic, and he knew with certainty she had been going to tell him. She had trusted him … and she loved him.
He realized that he had based his entire relationship with her on the belief that she should tell him the truth and tell him everything. Yet she’d expected nothing of him in return. She had never asked about previous women, never insisted on any confessions. It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested but that she respected his privacy where he had failed to respect hers. She’d loved him regardless. He knew she loved him. The proof stared him in the face with big, tear-filled, green eyes.
“I made a huge mistake, Lydia. I misjudged you. Despite everything I know about you, I forgot how strong you are. Strong enough to protect yourself. Strong enough to protect your children. Strong enough to walk away from the one person that you love to distraction. The one person who will love you for the rest of your life. Because you’re trying to protect me from your past.”
She raised her face to his. Her tears shimmered as a tentative smile formed.
“I never said I loved you.”
“You didn’t need to. You showed me. You tried to protect me. I can’t let you do that anymore, Lydia. If I have to get down on my knees and beg you not to leave, I will. I can’t think of anything worse than letting you go.” He took hold of her hand and tugged her closer.
“I’m used to dealing with frightened fillies more than humans, and I’m not too good with fancy words, but I swear to you that you will never regret putting your trust in me.
“Just like a filly, you’ve been acting like a scared animal these past few weeks. There’s no need to be frightened anymore. I know the truth, and I can’t condemn you one bit for defending yourself and your babies against a monster. There isn’t a single person among us that would blame you for what you did.”
He could hear the shuffling of feet, the affirmative grunts from their onlookers, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
His arm encircled her and his hand came up to stroke her cheek.
“I also know that you are a pretty rich woman in your own right, so I hope when you make an honest man of me, we’re going to have the biggest party this town has ever seen.”
“I never said I was going to marry you. You called me a horse!”
“I called you a filly … you’re my filly!” His voice was gruff as he fumbled around in his pocket and withdrew a small square box. Flipping open the lid wi
th his thumb, he took out a simple square-cut emerald ring out and offered it to her.
“Now, are you going to take the leap of faith and marry me, or are you going to be a coward for the rest of your life?”
“I thought you said you were going to get down on your knees and beg.”
“I said if I had to I would. I don’t think you need me to beg.”
“It would be nice if you begged.”
“I’m not begging, Lydia.”
Her smile beamed up at him, and he felt his dimples deepen.
“Now are you going to be my filly?”
“Neigh…”
She took that leap of faith … straight into his arms.
The End
Publisher’s Note
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About Diane Saxon
Characters have always been in a corner of Diane’s mind, securely tied down while she worked long hours in a serious job. In January 2011, Diane gave up her job, started to let those characters develop, seep out of her head, and onto the keyboard. Now she finds, having been hidden all too long and no longer shy, they are bursting out of her brain and demanding plot-lines of their own. Contemporary Romance author, Diane Saxon, is letting them have their own way. http://www.dianesaxon.com
Table of Contents
Loving Lydia
Blurb
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
About Diane Saxon
