by Jenika Snow
Their hands disconnected as she bent down and took off her shoes. The wind kicked up and blew her hair around her shoulders. The scent of vanilla and peaches filled his senses.
“You better take your shoes off or you’ll get those shiny new kicks wet.”
“Kicks?” Adrian’s voice was filled with amusement. She glanced up at him, a smile on her face. He kicked his head back and laughed. It was a true and honest one, and it felt damn good. It had been too long since he had laughed. “I’d never, in a million years, think you would refer to my shoes as ‘kicks.’” Her little shrug was cute as hell. She moved closer to the water and stood there until the water came rushing toward her again. Just before it swallowed her toes she jumped back, laughing loudly.
“I can’t believe I’ve lived less than two hours away from this and have never driven down here.” The cardigan was pulled tighter around her back as she wrapped her arms around herself and stared at the horizon. “It is so beautiful. I wish I could swim out to where the color is starting to fade away. I could just disappear from everything. From everyone.” Her voice had dropped lower and the sadness in it was just too much for him.
Feet moving of their own accord, he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her against his chest. They stared out at the ocean for several long minutes. He knew he needed to tell her who he really was. Already he had waited too long.
“I’m sorry I freaked out back in the truck. I just”—she took a deep breath—“I haven’t been with a man in a very long time and it just brought up some old, painful memories.”
He had known that she had a traumatic past. It didn’t take a detective to see the small, subtle signs of what she went through. The stiffness when he first touched her, the way she was always on edge, the fear in her eyes when those drunks assholes had dared to bother her.
Not thinking anymore, he let his heart lead the way. “I was married once, years ago.” He expected her to stiffen, but she remained motionless. “Her name was Addie and she was pregnant with our first baby.” He looked at the crushing waves beating against the rocks. The sound was ominous and soothing all at the same time. “A little girl. We were going to name her Molly.” Just thinking about them made his chest ache. He released one of his arms from around her and rubbed the center of his chest, right over his heart. It had been a long time since he let himself open up completely and let the memories of Addie and their child wash through him. He needed Brea as close as he could while he told her this. Wrapping his arm back around her, he rested his head on top of hers and spilled his heart.
“We were going to have one of those ultrasounds where you can actually see the baby in 3D. Addie was so damn excited about it.” A smile touched his lips as he remembered that day. The way she had been rubbing her belly and singing to her favorite song that was playing on the radio. “The car came out of nowhere. He was drunk at ten in the morning and ran a red light, slammed right into the passenger side of our car and killed Addie instantly. At least that’s what they told me. I’m glad she didn’t suffer.” The last part was more of a whisper.
Brea had placed her hands over his where they rested right over her belly. “When I came to I was so confused as to what had happened that I didn’t even know where I was. I had hit my head on the steering wheel and had been out for thirty minutes. When I finally remembered what happened I was frantic to know where Addie was, that she was okay. That our baby was okay.” The sound of the sirens, the smell of blood and dirt washed around him and it was like he was back on that street with medics surrounding him, shouting orders.
“I knew right then, when they were telling me to calm down, that they needed to see to my wounds and that someone would come talk to me, that she was dead.” The tears that he had held in since that fateful night were threatening to make an appearance. The only time he had cried was when they pulled that sheet back so he could make a positive ID.
“Adrian.”
“Please, let me finish. I want to tell you this. I’ve wanted to for a while. I need you to know who I am, what I am. I changed that day, Brea, and it wasn’t for the better.” The need to look into her eyes as he bared his soul was too strong to ignore. As if she read his mind, she turned around to face him. “I never used to be like this, so angry at the world. Since Addie and our baby died all I’ve wanted to do was inflict pain. I wanted everyone to feel what I felt. I hated my life, hated the man I had become, but I couldn’t move past it. Fighting gave me an outlet for my wrath, and it felt damn good making another man bleed. I don’t want to sugarcoat it and tell you I wish I didn’t turn out the way I did, because it would be a lie, and I don’t want to lie to you.” Why was it so hard to keep her stare? Probably because the damn sadness reflected in the blue depths was tearing him up inside.
“Adrian.” The light touch of her hand on his cheek had him closing his eyes and leaning into her. Brea’s touch was filled with gentleness and he found himself letting go of some of his agony. “I am so sorry.” That was the last thing he wanted to hear from her.
A quick shake of his head stopped her from continuing. “I don’t want you to be sorry, Brea. It was a long time ago and I wanted to share this with you because I want to be honest about my past. I care about you. A lot.” The wave crashing behind her was the only sound that drowned out the silence that threatened to swallow them whole.
“Even though I knew in my heart that Addie was dead, it was twenty minutes before someone let me see her.” The image of Addie lying on the asphalt, the sheet covering her body, the slight swell of her belly evident, was so clear that he was no longer able to hold in the tears.
“Oh, Adrian.” Brea brushed away his tears as her own fell slowly down her cheeks. Here was this incredible woman, comforting him, listening to him, crying for him.
“I buried Addie and our baby three days later.” His life since then had been one big whirlwind of hate and disgust. There had been countless times he had tried to picture the man Addie had fallen in love with, the man she would want him to be, but Adrian knew that man was no longer alive. He had died with Addie and their child that day.
“I wish my story ended at that.” How he wished that were the truth. There was a selfish part of him that didn’t want to tell her the rest because he knew she might hate him, might be just as disgusted with him as he was with himself.
“I’m the last person that would ever judge you, Adrian.”
He wanted to believe that desperately, and once he told her the last part, the worst part of who he really was, he would know for sure if she truly meant that. “I hunted down the man that killed them, found him at the bar already liquored up. Surprisingly he didn’t serve nearly enough time in jail, but I got my vengeance when he was released.” He found his resolve, looked her in the eyes, and told her the truth. “I beat him within an inch of his miserable, drunken life.” He stopped, giving her a moment to let what he just said sink in. There was no remorse for what he had done. “I wouldn’t have stopped until he was dead, but the police came before I had the pleasure of finishing him off.” Brea’s eyes had grown slightly wider at his admission.
“I went to prison for two years for it. That man will no longer walk and he will forever have to use a respirator to breathe. To this day I wish they wouldn’t have stopped me.”
Chapter Nine
The apathetic expression covering Adrian’s face was like nothing she had ever seen, not even in Cameron. When he told her his story, his voice had gotten deeper, harsher, more deadly. Her skin had tightened as he explained the need to kill the man that had taken everything from him. Maybe he wanted her to hate him, to look at him with fear? It would be a lie for her to admit that she wasn’t slightly frightened by the look in his eyes and the menacing tone of his voice, but she cared for Adrian and knew that everything he felt was justified.
Maybe she didn’t agree with his need to kill a man, because she could never see herself taking another life, but then again she had never lost something as monumental as he ha
d. She didn’t know what to say to take away the devastating look in his eyes. Tears streamed down both of their cheeks, and that moment was one she would never forget. It would be etched into her brain so clearly that every time she closed her eyes she would be able to smell the saltiness in the air and feel the tightness in her chest.
The silence that stretched between them was powerful. He had opened up to her, shared a memory of his life that had forever changed him. There were no more questions about whether or not she should share her past with him. The look on his face was one part uncertainty and one part fear. Did he really think she would just turn her back on him because he admitted what he clearly thought was his worst? She would just have to prove to him that she didn’t run easily, not anymore, not when it came to him.
Now didn’t seem like the right time to tell her story, though. Right now she wanted to show him how much she had grown to care for him. Maybe it was the look in her eyes, or maybe he felt the same bone-deep need as well, because he took her hand, kissed it softly, and held it over his heart.
“Adrian.” One step toward him and her chest was against his, their twined hands blocked in the cage their bodies created. “Let’s go.” Did he know she didn’t mean the hour-and-a-half trek back to their homes? She needed him. Now. She needed to show him that he was alive, that he was wanted, and that he was an incredible man. Both of their pains were tangible, sparking like a wildfire between them, trying to consume them. It couldn’t take them over. She wanted to be as close to him as she could, to wash away the heartbreaking look on his face.
He watched her for several long moments, and she could see his throat working as he swallowed. “Oh, Brea.” Yes, he knew what she wanted and the look on his face told her he wanted it, too. They walked back to his truck hand in hand and he helped her in. Hands lingering on her waist, their gazes held for a pregnant moment, a silent communication passing between them.
When they were both seated inside, the silence caved in around them. After a long pause he cranked the truck and pulled out. Ten minutes later, he pulled into a seaside B&B and turned the car off. Was he having second thoughts? Was he thinking about his past, letting it slowly consume this moment? Maybe he wasn’t ready. Maybe she wasn’t ready. Her body was most definitely primed for him, ready to give herself over in the most intimate of ways, but maybe this was just all too much for him.
“Adrian.” When he finally tore his gaze from the ocean and stared at her with blue eyes that seemed to match the rolling waves, she knew at that moment that she had lost her heart to him. She loved him. So. Much. Fear slammed into her at the revelation. No matter how selfish she wanted to be, how much she wanted to stay wrapped in his arms and hold him tight, it was far too dangerous to tell him how she felt. She hoped he felt the same way, too.
His hand slid across the seat and took hers, intertwining their fingers together. “Come inside with me. Be with me, Brea.”
* * * *
Twenty minutes later Adrian pushed open the door to their room. It was a quaint little B&B that was next to the coast. He got a room with a view of the ocean because when the sun rose over the water it glistened like tiny jewels. He wanted to see her face when she saw the sight. When she had suggested being with him his heart had literally stopped. She hadn’t come right out and said it, but the look in her eyes and the way she led him back to his truck had told him what she wanted.
The door shut behind them with a soft click and then silence descended on them. Adrian stayed by the door, watching as she walked around the room, touching the dresser, the small table and chair, and then finally stopping in front of the sliding glass doors that led right out onto the beach. The urge to go to her, to touch her was so strong he had to clench his fists to stop from doing so. She needed time, needed her space. He could see it, feel it. It didn’t matter if all they did was talk and hold each other. He would sleep on top of the covers in a snowsuit if it put her at ease.
He had told her everything, and even when his pain had slammed into him with as much force as a tsunami, she had been right there. She hadn’t run from him, hadn’t told him what an awful person he was. The silent strength she had given him just by listening to him, by not judging him had opened his heart in more than one way.
“When I was younger, my dad used to take me down to this small fishing hole behind our house. I hated going down there because he’d make me bait the hooks and I’d have to take the worms and stab them through.” The smile that touched her lips was reflected in the glass of the window. “We would stay out there for hours, not saying one word because he said we would scare all the fish away.” Adrian moved the steps it took to get to her and stood behind her, not touching her but desperately wanting to. “We’d bring our catch home and I’d watch my mom scale the fish and gut them. The house would smell so bad from the fish guts, but I always looked forward to those nights because everyone was smiling and laughing.” She brought her hands up and stared at them, as if remembering that particular memory. Her once happy smile turned sad and distant.
Was this the past she kept so tightly guarded? He was afraid to touch her. Afraid she would close herself off.
“I was eighteen when my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. By the time they found it the cancer had metastasized and they gave her six months to live. She only made it three.” The sadness in her voice was evident, but he could see in her reflection that she wasn’t crying. He didn’t speak because he knew she needed to get this out. “My dad completely shut down after that. He wouldn’t get out of bed, wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t do anything. He had become this depressed shell of a man that couldn’t wake up and take care of himself.” Adrian wrapped his arms around her and he sighed when she leaned back into him. “He died of a heart attack a year later, but I believe it was from a broken heart. He loved my mother so much that when she died he couldn’t live without her, not even for his only daughter.” Tears started making their way down her cheeks and he gripped her tighter. What could he even say to make her tears stop?
“I sold their house, moved out of the town I grew up in, and started going to college. I just wanted to start over, to forget my past, to forget that I didn’t have anyone in the world. That’s where I met Cameron. He was eight years older than me and working on his doctorate in psychology. He said all the right things, did all the right things.” Voice dropping lower, she practically whispered, “He made me feel not so alone. He loved me.”
She turned around and gave him a sad smile. His hand now encased in her much smaller, softer one, Brea led them over to the bed and pulled him down next to her. Silence surrounded them and he used his finger under her chin to bring her face up.
“You don’t have to do this, Brea. You don’t have to explain anything.” He wanted to know about her, wanted to let her get it all out, but he could tell how hard this was for her, and that ate at his heart.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I want to tell you. I need to tell you so you understand exactly why I am the way I am.” They stayed silent for another moment before Brea continued. “The first few years were great. He was considerate of my situation, compassionate, and listened to me when I was going through a hard day. When he graduated with his PhD we moved in together. I had just graduated myself with a degree in early childhood education and wanted to continue on for my master’s, but Cameron convinced me take a year off. To this day I regret listening to him. That was the moment everything changed between us.” The unspoken words hung between them as she pulled her hands from his tight clasp and put them in her lap.
“In the four years that we had been together he had never raised his voice to me. There were small warning signs that when I look back I see, but I was so blinded by having something happy. By being loved.” She rubbed her palms on her thighs and glanced down at the movement “That first time he—” She locked her lips and cleared her throat. “That first time he hit me the world came out from underneath my feet.”
Blind fury encompassed
Adrian. After a moment he realized she was watching him with wide, frightened eyes. He could only imagine what he looked like. Standing, he started pacing in front of her. An itch had started under his skin and he suddenly felt very volatile. Whoever this Cameron was better pray he never came across Adrian.
“Adrian.” He stopped and looked at her. Taking a deep breath, he made himself calm down. “Please, sit down. I’m not telling you this to upset you. I want you to hear everything.” When he was sitting beside her again, she continued, “I wish I could say it only happened that one time, that I was a stronger person and had been smart enough to leave, but I’d be lying.” Her tear-filled eyes cut across to him and he didn’t hold back the need to wipe the tears away. “The abuse only escalated from there. First he used his hands to hit me, then it was his belt, then it was anything he could find.” Adrian swallowed hard. “The rape soon followed and didn’t stop until I finally found the courage to leave.”
Chapter Ten
The air left Adrian in a quick rush. Not even when he was hit in the gut did he become so breathless. This strong woman before him was a fucking survivor. Pain in his palms alerted him to the fact that his hands were clenched so tightly his nails were digging into his skin. Easing up on his death grip, he ran his hand over his hair.
“Fuck, Brea.” The words tumbled out of him, but he hadn’t meant to say them aloud. “There wasn’t anyone you could have talked to about it? Gone to for help?” The idea that she had been all alone, suffering through that kind of abuse made him sick.
A small shake of her head answered his question. “I was a loner. Even after four years in college I hadn’t made any real friends. Sure, I had talked to my peers, but Cameron was always there, spending time with me, keeping my attention. He didn’t make me feel lonely for one second.”
