Wrapped in the cozy robe that came with the equally cozy room, I padded on bare feet out of the bathroom, lit my lavender candle, and used the landline in the room to order Chinese takeout.
When I’d first moved to Redemption, I was a little worried there’d be a lack of takeout options, and I was excited to discover that my fears were unwarranted.
Once I finished with that, I dialed Jase’s number. If there was a soul on the planet who could sooth the turmoil rolling through me like my chest was one big wave pool, it was my big brother.
The second his deep voice came ringing though the line, I felt the tightness in my chest begin to ease.
“Hey, bub. Did I catch you at a good time?”
“Farah? Jesus! I’ve been going out of my mind all day! Where the hell have you been, and why aren’t you picking up your cell? I was this close to getting on a goddamn plane.”
It took some effort, but I managed to swallow down my giggle. He’d been overprotective for as long as I could remember, and it only made it worse whenever I laughed. “I’m so sorry. I would’ve called you earlier, but . . . I kind of broke my phone. It’s been a day.”
“How the hell did you break your phone?”
I blew out a breath and rolled my eyes to the ceiling. “I might have thrown it across my car after listening to a voicemail from Lance.”
“What the fuck?” He barked so loud I had to pull the phone from my ear.
“Jase—”
“That’s a joke, right? Tell me that’s a fucking joke.”
A tension headache began pulsing behind my temples. “I wish it was.”
His voice came out as a growl. “That motherfucker. He’s got some balls. What did he say?”
I relayed my ex-fiancé’s insulting message, then waited as Jase raged through the line. “I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch. I swear to God, I’m gonna kill him.”
“Jace, just calm down.”
“Fuck calm!” he thundered. “Who does he think he is, talking to Mom and Dad? Christ, I hate thinking of all those years you were with that prick.”
“Bub, just relax, it’s not like I plan on calling him back. I’ve got nothing to say to him, and I’m pretty sure you’ve reached your quota on cuss words for like a year.”
“I’m a man, sweet pea. Hate to break it to you, but we don’t have a quota. It’s just how we are. And you just admitted to breaking your phone. Act as casual as you want now, but we both know you’re full of shit.” I lifted the candle to my nose and inhaled deeply to try and calm my frayed nerves. “You’re sniffing that candle of yours, aren’t you?”
My forehead pulled into a frown as I put the candle back on the bedside table and grumbled, “No. Shut up, stupid.”
My brother’s bark of laughter filled my ear. “You’re such a grownup, Farah. Why I’d ever think I needed worry about you is beyond me.
I let out a laugh of my own and felt the last of that tension melt away just as a knock sounded on my hotel room door. “All right, jerk. As much fun as this is, my dinner’s here, so I should let you go. I’ll call you tomorrow as soon as I get a new phone.”
“All right, sweet pea. Enjoy your dinner. And if that prick calls you again, you let me know.”
“Don’t do anything,” I said in warning, my chest clutching at the thought of my brother doing something that could get him in any kind of trouble. “I’m serious, Jase. Just leave it alone, okay? And don’t tell Bennett.”
“I won’t.” His answer was immediate. Too immediate, and I knew him better than to think he’d ever agree to something so easily.
“Promise me, bub,” I pressed, knowing that would work.
His voice grew soft as he replied sincerely, “I promise, little sis. But I’m serious. I need to know if he keeps bothering you, okay?”
“I promise too.”
That answer seemed to put him at ease, and I heard him let out a heavy sigh. “Thank you, sweetheart. Means a lot to me.”
We shared “I love yous” then hung up, and I spent the rest of the evening enjoying outstanding Chinese food.
Chapter 9
Farah
My stomach retched at the foul stench of cigarette smoke.
“Now we’re gonna have a little fun.”
I came awake with a start, shooting to sitting as the nightmare gripping me tightly. Clenching the covers in my fists, I dug my toes into the mattress and concentrated on deep breathing.
“Warm sheets, soft bed, clean cotton, and motor oil.”
That last one ripped me from the clutches of my dream faster than I’d ever come out of it before. My eyes shot open, and I looked around the empty room as my chest heaved with each labored breath I took. I hadn’t realized until that moment the smell I’d come to associate with Cannon was still lingering in my room from the night before, and not only that, but it had helped ground me more than the lavender candle ever had.
Pulling my knees to my chest, I rested my forehead on them and wrapped my arms around my legs. “Shit.”
A weight hit the bed, followed a second later by Crash’s soft, rumbly purr.
Uncurling from my protective ball, I reached out and stroked his downy head. “I’m all right, buddy. Just a bad dream.”
He let out a meow and butted his head against my thigh. The comfort he was unknowingly giving me worked wonders to calm my rapidly beating heart.
“You’re kind of a sweetie, aren’t you? When you aren’t making people drive their cars into ditches.”
In response, Crash rolled onto his back like a dog, telling me clear as day he wanted his belly rubbed.
I laughed and did as he not-so-subtly demanded, all the while, thinking back to yesterday with Cannon and that almost kiss at the end.
If I were being honest with myself, I’d wanted that kiss. For months, I’d cringed at the thought of male affection, but I’d wanted to feel Cannon’s lips on mine with a desperation so fierce it shocked the hell out of me.
Even before that awful night, the intimacy between Lance and me had been laughably absent. Our sex life had never been passionate. I was barely more than a body that he could roll over in the dark of night, rut on top of for a bit, and groan out an orgasm before I’d ever been close to getting off. If I thought back on our relationship, nowhere in those careless, quick couplings was there any kissing.
Maybe that was why I’d been so aloof when I walked in on him screwing my supposed best friend, Felicity, in the bed we’d bought together. The truth was, when I opened those doors and saw her on all fours with him bent over her back, drilling into her from behind, I’d barely flinched. I didn’t care that my fiancé was cheating, that he was betraying me with my friend. I didn’t care that he was showing more passion in those handful of seconds I’d witnessed than he ever had in our entire relationship. If anything, I was relieved that it was officially over between us. I simply slipped his ring off my finger, placed it on the dresser, and mumbled something about having movers come to get my things before turning and walking away.
And that was the end of it. Just like that. No tears, no heartbreak, no screaming or yelling or raging, at least on my part. For me, walking away was easy. I didn’t love him. I wasn’t sure I ever had. But one month after I’d been released from the hospital, he’d shown himself to be the worst kind of human. When he got in my face one night because I couldn’t bring myself to have sex after what had been taken from me, ranting and raving about how a man had needs, and enough time had passed that I should be over it by now, any small, niggling feeling of affection that may have been there died instantly.
But there was something in me, deep in my gut, that told me just a kiss with Cannon Banks would be a million times more combustible than anything I’d ever gotten from my ex, and I wasn’t sure I could survive that. Not after I’d been so broken and was just starting to piece myself back together.
Turning from Crash, I glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand and nearly had a heart attack.
I
hadn’t slept past seven in the morning in months, but the red digital numbers showed it was already a quarter to ten. Cannon would be at my door in fifteen minutes, and I couldn’t be here when that happened.
Much to Crash’s displeasure, I threw the covers off and scrambled across the mattress, crawling on all fours and falling off the end of the bed in a heap of frantic limbs. I quickly brushed my teeth, splashed some water on my face, and threw on a pair of jeans and a plain V-neck tee. Slipping on another pair of flip-flops, I grabbed my purse, shoved my room key into my back pocket, and hightailed it out the door and across the parking lot toward Poppy’s house with barely five minutes to spare.
Poppy’s voice greeted me as soon as the screen door creaked when I pulled it open. “Morning, babe. I was wondering when you’d be by. Your insomnia must have—” The words died and concern twisted through her expression when she turned from the stove and got a good look at my frantic state. “Oh my God. What’s going on, Farah? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
Before I could answer, thunder rumbled through Poppy’s open windows. We both looked out just as that matte black motorcycle I’d seen at the body shop the day before came into view, and good Lord, did Cannon look fine straddling it.
“I promise I’ll explain everything later,” I spat out in a hurry. “But Cannon’s only a handful of seconds away from discovering I’m not waiting for him in my room like he’s expecting, and I need you to hide me.”
Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What?”
“If he comes here, just say you haven’t seen me.” I clasped my hands together in front of my chest and begged, “Please, Poppy. Pretty, pretty please? Do this for me, and I’ll buy you the stand mixer you were drooling over in that catalogue the other day.”
Her eyes went big and her lips parted in shock. “In Tiffany blue?”
“Yes! Whatever you want,” I replied quickly. I’d buy her that stand mixer in Tiffany blue for the simple fact that she’d been such a good friend since I moved to town. But if she did this for me, I’d buy her a dozen stand mixers to show my appreciation.
She nodded in agreement, then turned to look out the window above the sink that gave her a clear view of the rooms and parking lot farther back on the property.
“Crap!” she cried, dropping the spatula in her hand. She rushed over to me and began pushing me down the hall off the kitchen. “He’s coming. Quick, hide!”
She shoved me into a little half bath nestled beneath the stairs and slammed the door behind me.
I collapsed onto the toilet and began chewing on my bottom lip nervously. This was ridiculous. I was a grown woman for Christ’s sake. Cannon had been nothing but incredibly nice and helpful, and here I was, hiding in a freaking bathroom to avoid him.
I’d reached an all new low.
After a couple of minutes, I rose to my feet and slowly crept to the door, pressing my ear against the wood. I heard the sound of muffled voices, one distinctly male, but no matter how hard I strained, I couldn’t make out what was being said.
I don’t know how long I stood there, feeling like the biggest idiot in the world, but after a while, I heard the rumble of Cannon’s motorcycle again and felt my shoulders sag. However, the relief I’d expected to feel at his departure was nowhere to be found. Instead, I felt like a terrible person who’d just let something great slip right through my fingers.
The bathroom door was flung open a few seconds after the sound faded, and I looked at Poppy with a sheepish grin. “Thanks for doing that.”
She nodded and waved me out of the bathroom. “The coast is clear. Let’s get some coffee, and you can tell me what the hell is going on.”
I followed her into the kitchen and plopped down on the barstool she pointed to as she went about pouring us each a cup of coffee and doctoring mine to perfection.
She placed my mug in front of me and leaned onto her elbows across the island, settling in before ordering, “All right, girly, start talking.”
“How . . .?” I cleared my dry throat, trying to get some relief against the scratchy tightness. “How did he seem? Did he look . . . mad?”
“Oh yeah,” she answered with big eyes and a nod. “He looked pissed, and, I’m guessing here, but I think it’s safe to assume he didn’t believe me when I told him I didn’t have a clue where you were.”
“Damn.” I let out a breath and lifted my mug to my lips.
“So what was that all about?” she pushed, excitement and curiosity lighting up her eyes. “I mean, why was he here to pick you up? And most importantly, why in the world did you hide instead of going with him? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but that man is crazy hot.”
“Believe me,” I mumbled around the rim of my mug. “I know.”
After a fortifying gulp, I dove in. I told her everything, from how off-kilter I felt the very first time I laid eyes on him at Bad Alibi to literally running into him outside of room four after hearing him and that woman having sex, then everything that had happened the day prior. By the time I finished, my mug was empty, and I felt like a boulder had been lifted off my shoulders. Jase and Bennett were the only people in my life I’d ever been able to confide in, but after my attack, they’d taken overprotective to a whole new level. There was no way in hell I’d be able to talk to either of them about something like this. I’d never had any girlfriends I could talk about guy problems with. If I’d tried, they would have either spread what I told them far and wide behind my back, or held onto it to use against me in some nasty way. But Poppy was unlike any of the cold-hearted, opportunistic woman I’d grown up with, and being able to get the whole story off my chest was a relief I never expected.
“Oh wow,” she breathed, looking at me in complete shock before grinning huge. “You like him.”
My back shot straight so fast I nearly toppled off the stool. “What? No! No, it’s not—”
“You do!” she chirped proudly. “You totally like Cannon Banks. So what I wanna know is why you’re avoiding a guy you’re crushing on.”
There was no use in denying it, I did like him. That was the problem. Dropping my head into my hands, I let out a pained groan while wishing a hole would open in the floor and swallow me.
“Hey, hey.” Poppy reached over, putting pressure on my wrists so I’d lower them. When I finally looked back up, her face was awash with concern. “I was just playing around. I thought it was cute how you acted all scared and nervous. I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I let out a shaky breath. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.”
Her head cocked to the side as she studied me inquisitively. “Is it the other women? Because I’d could totally get that. Okay, yeah, the guy sleeps around, but you should know, he only ever does that when he’s single. I’ve known Cannon pretty much my whole life, and he’s not a cheater. When he’s with a girl, he’s with her. He just . . . doesn’t date a lot. But I think he likes you. I mean, I’m no expert, but I don’t think a guy gets that mad at being stood up unless he really likes the girl.”
“It’s not that,” I said with a shake of my head. “Well, not totally that.” Even I couldn’t lie to myself and say it didn’t bother me, seeing him with all those other women, but it wasn’t like I had any claim on the guy. Like Poppy said, he was single, so he wasn’t technically doing anything wrong. “It isn’t him. It’s me. I’m a mess.”
And isn’t that just the goddamn truth?
Poppy’s eyes shined with sympathy as she placed her hand on mine and gave it a squeeze. “Because of your ex?”
My eyes began to sting, and as frustrating as it was, I couldn’t stop the tears from welling up as I sniffled. I’d told Poppy a little about my life before Redemption, but I only gave her the bare bones. I was engaged, he cheated, I broke up with him and moved here because it was time for a fresh start. I’d never spoken of that night nearly a year ago with anyone but my therapist back in Connecticut, not even to Jase and Bennett. They knew wha
t happened because they’d been at the hospital, but we’d never sat down and actually discussed it.
“No, it isn’t because of Lance,” I murmured, starting down into my mug at the dregs of coffee swirling around the bottom. “I was attacked,” I finally admitted, my voice so quiet I would have worried she hadn’t heard had it not been from the gasp she sucked in.
There was no going back now. The three words that would start the avalanche of emotions were now out there, floating in the space between us, so I figured I might as well give her everything.
“I’d gotten my wedding dress from this exclusive place in New York, so I’d driven into the city for a fitting. Usually, I had our driver, Bennett, take me to things like that, but I’d gotten into this huge fight with my mom earlier that day about something stupid and just wanted to be by myself, you know? I wasn’t in the mood to be around people. And as I was walking to my car . . .” I had to stop for a second, and once I had my bearings, my voice shook as I relayed the rest of the story. “He came out of nowhere. At first, I thought he was robbing me. I mean, you hear about purse snatchers in the city all the time. But . . . that wasn’t the case.”
Her fingers clenched around mine as she whispered, “Oh my God.”
“I swear, Poppy, I can still remember his voice clear as a bell. I still remember what he smelled like. I think that might be the worst part . . . remembering.”
"Farah, honey, you don’t have to—”
I kept going, feeling the need to get the story out like I was sucking snake venom from a wound. “I fought as hard as I could, but he was just so big. After he raped me, I thought that was it. I prayed that it was over and he’d just leave.” I lifted my shirt to reveal the small, faint scars. There were three just beneath my left breast. Those were the ones that punctured my lung. There were two more a bit higher that she couldn’t see through my bra, the two that had nearly ended my life.
I let out a humorless laugh as I lowered my shirt back in place. “My parents were pissed. They paid a cosmetic surgeon a fortune to remove the scars, but the doctor couldn’t get rid of them completely. Mom and Dad couldn’t stand the sight of them. It was just a reminder to them that I was tarnished now. I remember overhearing my mom ranting to my dad one night after she thought I’d gone to sleep. She was worried no man would want me with those scars on my body.”
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