I left and never looked back. I couldn’t look back. The old me was a washed-up, battered shell of the person I’d been. Used. Discarded.
I’d never allow someone close enough to do it to me again.
SHE WAS CRYING AGAIN.
Just like the rain pouring down outside my bedroom window, I heard her tears falling fast from somewhere down the hallway, and I crawled out from under my bed, knowing the worst was over now.
I hated storms.
Hated rain.
Hated him.
I tossed and turned in my bed until I woke myself up, my face wet from the tears that fell during my reoccurring nightmare. Outside, a clap of thunder sliced through the air. I jumped as the images of my dad shoving my mother against the heated stove cut through my mind. As the boiling pot of water rocked back and forth, sloshing water onto her skin.
My heart took up residence inside my throat.
“No!” I shouted, covering my ears with my hands as his belligerent voice ripped through my memory. I forced my eyes open, not wanting to see what happened next. What always happened when he had one too many and came home late, wanting a hot meal and willing wife.
The balled-up fist that could land a punch just as hard as any boxer could. The furniture knocked over and thrown against walls, shattering portraits of my childhood. Her tears. His vein-inducing anger.
And, in all that time, blow after blow… year after year… she never left him.
Even when I pleaded. Even when I helped clean her bleeding wounds. Even after she found out that he had cheated on her at some point and fathered my half-brother who I loved dearly but rarely got to see because of his touring schedule with his band.
She told me men were like that, they made mistakes, and it was a wife’s job to stand by her husband no matter what.
Fuck. That.
I made my escape when I was seventeen. When he hit me for the first and last time. It was then I knew I’d never let a man into my life. Not like that. They all had a mean streak… an evil streak that eventually came out. Some used their fists. Others used their words or their straying dick to hurt you.
Buckets of acid poured over in my stomach as I pulled the sheet up to cover my nose, my knuckles white from gripping it so tight.
But, no matter how many times I told myself that, there was the old me… the innocent me deep down that called bullshit.
I knew I was jaded. Knew there was so much I didn’t know about love, because witnessing what grew between Maggie and Phillip told me I was wrong.
That there was a loophole to love.
But it was for girls like Maggie. Girls with fathers who didn’t make them feel like garbage or break their trust. Girls with mothers who taught them what a woman’s true strength was and didn’t tune the world out to avoid dealing with what was really happening.
I had neither growing up.
I had anger. Resentment. Abandonment.
I had only myself, and that was all I could trust.
MY EYES FELT RAW BY the time sunlight hugged the gathering morning clouds.
Maggie didn’t believe in curtains. The windows to her room were wide and long, showcasing the oceanic view like a prized painting.
I tried to roll away from the window, my eyes barely able to stay open, but it was the gusty breeze and the concerning grayish hue to the clouds that kept my mind from falling back into the arms of sleep.
Damn it all to hell.
Reaching for my thin pajama pants, I sat up, wiggling them up my legs. I thought about throwing a T-shirt over my sports bra, for Ed’s sake, but decided not to. This was who I was. This was what I wore. I wasn’t going to let a guy make me feel like I should have to cover myself up to keep the heat to a minimum.
Or maybe I just didn’t want to keep the heat low, I thought with a smirk.
Trudging my way down the hall to the kitchen, I found Ed on the phone, cursing under his breath.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as I reached on tiptoes for a mug to fill with coffee.
“You’re not gonna believe this, love,” Ed said as he spun around to answer me in just his pajama pants.
I pretended not to care he had the abs of a track runner. Ones I wanted to run my fingers and tongue over. Acted like I didn’t notice how his swimmer’s V pointed like an arrow to the exact spot I had the pleasure of feeling more than once.
My hormones did cartwheels inside the pit of my stomach, and I prayed to Aphrodite herself I wasn’t being delusional in thinking he hadn’t noticed just how quickly he had me wound up without even trying.
The subtle, sly glint in his warm, coppery eyes told me to keep on praying.
I cleared my throat for composure. “Believe what?” I asked, putting the mug to my lips and averting my eyes to the window.
He ran his hand up and down the back of his head, stretching his stomach as he said, “A storm’s heading this way. The kind planes won’t fly through.”
I nearly choked on my coffee.
“Yeah,” he said, getting the reaction he wanted from me. “I got Phil on the phone now. They’re trying to work out when we’ll be able to reschedule our flights.”
Storm? Reschedule?
I marched right over to him and yanked the phone from his hand. “Phil, put Maggie on the phone,” I demanded, my foot tapping against the tile.
Ed lifted an eyebrow at me.
I squinted at him. “Please,” I added for good measure.
Ed smirked as Phillip called out, “Sure thing. Hoops, Hannah needs to speak with you.”
My heart galloped in my chest like a racehorse as I listened to the steady flow of rain falling outside. As the nightmare from last night tried to work its way back into my mind.
“Hannah, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I mean, I knew there was a storm brewing out there, but its trajectory was all over the place. I didn’t think it would come that way.”
My heart decided to vacation in my throat. “Maggie,” I said, my voice shaking, “what kind of storm are we talking about here? Because you know me and storms don’t do well together.”
There was a soft, nervous sigh on her end before she said, “It’s a hurricane, Hannah, but it’s only like a category one. The winds will be too high, so all flights are canceled and all air traffic has been rerouted. But I don’t want you to worry. The house is reinforced for this kind of thing. I’ve been through a few, and I promise you everything will be fine. You’ll be fine.”
Only a category one. As if slapping a tiny, little number on a hurricane could ease the fact that I was going to be stuck on this island in the middle of a freaking storm that has the potential to devastate.
Storms don’t discriminate.
Ed stood next to me, watching my every move. Watched as I unraveled like a damn ball of yarn.
I turned my back on him. “Maggie, please tell me there’s another way off this island.”
Dead silence.
That was all the answer I needed.
I set the phone down against the counter and blindly made my way to the small kitchen table. Placing my hand against my chest, I took in slow, deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart.
I couldn’t be trapped in Maggie’s house with a hurricane ripping around outside. I couldn’t. I couldn’t…
I couldn’t breathe.
Ed hung up the phone as my chest heaved up and down. He squatted in front of me, saying words I couldn’t make out through the loud ringing sound in my ears.
“I have to go, Ed. I can’t… we can’t stay here. Not with the storm. There’s… there’s nowhere to hide. No place to go.”
He stood up. Fiddled with something in the cabinet, and then made his way over to me, grabbing my hands and holding them firmly. “Here.” He placed a glass filled with amber-colored liquid in it in my hands. “Take this.”
I didn’t hesitate. I took the shot and waited for the warmth to spread through my limbs, offering the liquid courage I needed.
I expectantly held
the glass out.
He filled it and I shot it, greedily tossing the liquid back.
He searched my face. “Better?”
I nodded, sagging in the chair as the warmth kicked in.
It was just rain. Just a little rain and a small delay. I’d be fine.
I’ll get through this.
We’d make it through this.
“WE’RE NOT GOING TO MAKE it!” I shouted as we dragged the mattress from Maggie’s room into the hallway.
Wind beat against the house like a stampede trying to trample over us. The rain had been pouring so hard for the last couple of hours. We were both soaked to the bone because Phil instructed us on how to lock the house up to maximize protection. That included closing the shutters outside.
Of course, every freaking wall in this house had to have multiple windows.
“Phil said this was the safest place to be in the house,” Ed said for the millionth time as we dropped the mattress and stepped back, our chests rising and falling at the same fast pace. Water dripped from the ends of his hair down the sharp angles of his face in a way that made my heart race a little faster.
He knocked on the walls, the sound thick. “See? Reinforced. Nothing’s getting through these walls, love,” he said encouragingly, his soaked shirt clinging against his skin.
“Right.” I snorted. “Call me crazy, but I think the loud, angry gusts of wind and sharp sounds of thunder beg to differ.”
Shivering from head to toe, I grabbed the half-empty bottle of whiskey I’d taken a few healthy swallows of throughout the afternoon and said, “Fuck it.”
Pressing the glass to my lips, I took as much of a chug as I could before Ed pulled the bottle away from me, telling me I needed to calm down on the alcohol.
“Calm down? You want me to calm down when there’s a storm outside that sounds like giants are falling from the damn clouds?” I tried to take the bottle back, but he yanked it away from me.
He took a large swig from it, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Ye want to get drunk? Fine. But ye’re not doing it alone, love. I’m not the designated babysitter.”
“Whatever.” I took the bottle he offered and chugged another healthy sip.
My throat was on fire and my brain was getting that warm, fuzzy feeling. The kind that let your guard down and had you shrugging your shoulders at the worst of situations.
“We need to get out of these clothes,” Ed said, pulling at his shirt. Puddles formed around our feet. I couldn’t help but giggle. I knew it was the alcohol kicking in, but I didn’t care.
Ed rolled his eyes. “And here we go.”
I laughed harder and harder until Ed made his way around the mattress and hoisted me up over his shoulder, ass in the air, calling me all sorts of names that didn’t make sense.
“Put me down!” I cried out through my laughing fit, banging at his back.
“Ye think I’d carry your laughing arse all around the house? Here,” he said, dropping me in the bathtub and turning the shower on full blast.
The cold water hit me like a cinder block and had me sucking in huge gasps of air as I cursed every word in the book.
He shucked out of his boots and stepped into the shower just as the water went hot. “Move over, will ye?”
The blessed heat was like falling into bed after a long, hard day. I shoved him aside and stood under the spray, groaning as the warmth seeped through my clothing.
But it wasn’t warming me fast enough.
In a craze, I pulled my shirt up over my head and dropped it outside the tub. Then, my pants were gone.
Ed smirked, following suit with a giddiness that had my skin tingling, until we were both in our underwear. Steam billowed around us like encouraging hands, pushing us closer together until there was no air left between us. Until we were both sharing the warmth, letting it halo around us.
With his arms locked around me, our bones rattled against one another like two ice cubes in an empty glass.
I blinked. My hooded eyes grazed over the swell of his lips as I wondered what he tasted like. What the inside of his mouth felt like. How his tongue would work with mine.
“Don’t look at me like that, love, unless ye want what that look’s suggesting.”
His voice was deep. Dark. Sexy. It did things to me. Things that made my insides burn with desire. Things that had me wishing new places for those lips to discover.
I lifted a finger to his well-defined chest, toying with him. “What look?” I teased the corner of my lip with my teeth. Batted my lashes at him. Pressed myself closer against him, enjoying the feel of his excitement growing between us.
Before I could react, his hands were on my sides, thumbs digging into my hips as he pressed me against the wall, his lips nearing mine.
“Ye want me to kiss ye, love?” he asked, his warm, whiskey-scented breath feather light against my lips.
Every nerve in my body twitched with need as I nodded, eyes locked on his.
“Like this?” He brushed his lips over mine, not really kissing me.
Just tempting me. Turning my knees to jelly. My brain to putty.
I nodded, unable to move as my chest arched against him, wishing he’d move his lips a little lower.
He caught the hint.
His lips burned an aching trail down my neck at a slow, torturous pace. Trailed down between the dip in my breasts, where his tongue barely grazed over, lapping up drops of water.
I wished I had taken off my bra. Had given him full access to do what I wanted to beg him to do.
With skilled hands, he had my arms pinned above my head. His other hand roamed down my side and over the swell of my ass, fingers digging hungrily into my flesh as he pressed against me, showing me how ready he was.
“Give me the word, love. Say it, and I’ll give ye that orgasm I promised ye and more.” His lips skimmed up my neck and back over my lips.
My brain went foggy. My insides were warm as I opened my mouth to utter the words. I wanted him. I wanted him bad.
But those words never had the chance to make it past my lips. Only a scream as the lights went out.
“Shite!” Ed said as he reached blindly to turn the water off. “Wait here.” He tumbled his way out of the tub.
It was dark. The kind where you couldn’t see your hand an inch from your face.
“Wait here, my ass!” I said as I reached in the direction where I saw the towels earlier. I grabbed one, wrapped it around my shivering… very aching form, and then grabbed another for Ed.
By the time I made it out of the bathroom, a small beacon of light flashed along the walls in the kitchen like a fairy searching for Peter Pan’s shadow. I heard Ed rummaging through the drawers in the kitchen until he shouted, “Ah-ha!”
A few seconds later, a lantern turned on, brightening the hall in a warm, soft glow as he approached me.
He was still in his boxer-briefs, dripping wet, the material hiding nothing from me.
Gawd. Damn.
“Here,” I said, quickly handing him the towel.
“Let’s get to the hallway.” He grabbed the lantern and guided me out of the kitchen as the wind howled around us.
As he dried off, I picked up the discarded bottle of whiskey from the mattress. I had almost let myself go, and boy, would that have been enjoyable. His hands and his lips… God, his lips. Soft. Full. Generous.
No, Hannah!
I turned, bottle in hand, and found Ed staring at me. Drinking me in. Telling me he wasn’t done if I wasn’t done.
Lightning cracked outside, and I jumped. Pressed the bottle to my lips to help chase away that inner demon creeping its way up my esophagus.
When I pulled it away, I held it out, offering it to him. He took it willingly, and I imagined us sharing the kiss we almost had as his lips touched where mine had just been on the bottle.
He was dreamy in the shadowy light. Beautiful in a way I had searched for all my life. In a safe way. A kind, gentle sort of way.
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We both sank to the floor next to the mattress, propping our backs against opposite sides of the hallway, facing each other. With a small, but safe, distance between us, we took turns passing the bottle back and forth, until my worries were an afterthought I didn’t feel like acknowledging.
Ed set the nearly empty bottle down beside him. “Tell me about yourself, love.”
“What’s there to tell?” I asked in between a hiccup.
He chuckled. “I dunno. I’ve never been good at the idle-talking thing, but thought maybe now was a good time to start.”
I rested my head against the wall, chewing the inside of my cheek. “Well, you have to ask me a question, because I’ve never been good at idle talk either.”
He ran his hands down his legs, which were covered by the towel, questions in his eyes.
“Hmmm,” he said, clearly thinking. “How about… your childhood. What kind of kid were ye?”
I laughed. “Kind? I didn’t know there were kinds.”
“Sure there are. The geeks. The bullies. The cool kids. Which were you?” He looked me over as the light flickered across his face.
“I don’t know,” I said with a small shrug. “The nobody kind. The one who blended in and went unnoticed.”
The one with all the sad secrets.
There was a sadness in his eyes. Like he knew what I meant.
I didn’t tell him about the memory I had of my father that always stuck out like a sore thumb in my mind. The one where he held my mother’s hand over the sink, and then switched on the garbage disposal, threatening to shove her hand in if she ever put too much pepper in the gravy again. I hated the smell of gravy because of it.
Or about the time my mother had been taking a shower, and he entered my room, drunk, telling me I was a mistake. That if I knew what was good for me, I’d keep to myself and not burden anyone else with my presence. That I wasn’t deserving of love because I sucked the love out of everyone.
I didn’t tell him how my mother stopped asking me how my day was at school after a while, or how I’d cry myself to sleep, hating myself for not being good enough for them. Wishing I was a different child who deserved the love of her parents. Wishing I could live with my half-brother instead who had his own apartment by the time I was ten.
Runaway Heart (A Game of Hearts #2) Page 7
