Faith (Stregth Series Book 2)

by T. L. Nicholas

  “He broke me,” I interrupt.

  “If he’d have broken you, you would have let him kill you. You wouldn’t have had anything left to live for. You’re far from broken, Sweetheart. And I promise you, right now, I will never hate you.”

  “You don’t know the rest.”

  “Then tell me. If you can live through it, the least I can do is listen to it. I’m right here. I’m here for you, and I will not hate you. No way in hell.” he says. He’s resigned to hear it, and I try hard not to see how much he doesn’t want to hear it in his eyes. I have no choice now, I have to finish it.

  “Okay. So, I told him, and I thought he’d let me go. Or maybe kill me anyway, but either way I was sure it was over. He left the room and came back with a case of water and a bag of chips. He said ‘I’m going to get her. If you lied to me, I will kill you. You’re going to stay right here until I know.’ And then he left.”

  He gasps and I know he sees where this is going. “How long were you there?” he asks.

  “About half a case of water long. I think I was only drinking one a day, because I didn’t know how long it would be, but I can’t be sure. Things kind of blend together.” I answer.

  He grimaces, “Who found you? Mike?”

  “No, he wasn’t even looking for me. Why would he? We were done. Jim found me, Travis’ dad.”

  “What did he do?” he growls.

  “At first he panicked. He didn’t know I was there. He came to Travis’ house to get things in order I suppose. I was asleep when he found me. He thought I was dead. I heard him say ‘Oh my God’ and when I opened my eyes he screamed. He knew who I was. He covered me up with a sheet and kept saying he was sorry. He looked for the keys for the cuffs for a few minutes and then went out to his truck and got his cuff keys. He uncuffed me, and then he just sat there. I didn’t know what to do. Should I run? Scream? Then he said. ‘He’s dead. He can’t hurt anyone ever again. It’s your right to call it in, but they’ll make you talk about it over, and over again. They’ll drag you through the mud, and my family too. But it’s your call.’”

  “I asked him if he got Alex, if she was okay, and he cried. He said they couldn’t find her body. I thought she was dead, and it was my fault.” –Tears run down my cheeks at the memory, and he wipes them away so gently, it makes me cry harder. I don’t deserve his tenderness. His kindness. I force myself to talk through the tears, my voice barely audible— “I asked him to take me to the hospital. What else could I do? He did, and he kept the cops from asking too many questions when the hospital notified them of my injuries. I refused to tell anyone what happened, who it was, and why. I took it as my penance, for getting my best friend killed. I wanted to die, but I didn’t deserve the peace that would come with it.”

  He shakes his head, anger all over him, fists clenched in his lap.

  “It was my decision, Jace, and maybe it was the wrong one, but I didn’t want to think about it. Relive it. I didn’t want anyone to know anything. I couldn’t say it. And me wanting to die? That’s just fact. It’s the truth. I killed her.” –He shakes his head and draws breath to argue but I stop him— “I know I didn’t now, but at the time I believed I had. I’m telling you so you understand my frame of mind.” He nods and his hands relax slightly.

  “They did all the standard tests, and I hadn’t contracted any diseases from him, but I was pregnant. It was way too late for the morning after pill. I considered keeping it, I mean, I never thought I’d get an abortion. I never saw myself making that choice, but I had nowhere to live, my best friend was dead because of me, and this was a monster’s baby. Now, I look at Cadan and my heart breaks. He’s such a precious little thing… but I can’t take it back now, even if I wanted to. I couldn’t imagine a life raising a child that way, under those circumstances. At the time, that’s all I could see, but now I look at Cadan and I hate myself. I love that little boy so much, and I never see what I thought I’d see when I look at him” – I look at him and he smiles sadly, in what I take as understanding— “They did the D&C as soon as I was strong enough, and then they sent me home.”

  “I didn’t tell them I didn’t have one of those, and I checked into a cheap motel. Luckily, he never took the money I had left out of my jeans pocket, and my two duffel bags were in the living room, so I had clothes and could get the room. After a while, I realized I was really sick. I didn’t have the energy to do anything about it, and, crazy as it sounds now, I truly believed I deserved it. All the pain in the world couldn’t make up for what I’d done. I just kept getting worse, and I even thought about leaving a note, explaining why I had died. I was sure I was never leaving that room.”

  I can’t look at him, but I can see his hands shaking. “Then Jim knocked on my door. I could see the shock on his face when I opened the door. He told me that Alex was alive and was home. He told me what he knew, and said it had taken a while to find me. I told him it didn’t matter, and he said I had to go see her, then I would feel better. I told him I had no way to get here and he gave me enough money to get here. I look back now and don’t know how I lived that long. When you guys took me to the hospital, I waited until you all weren’t around, and I told them about the D&C, and most of the other stuff. The sepsis was caused, they think, because of the D&C and my immune system being down, and the infections I had because of the conditions and the burns and stuff. Somehow the infection traveled to my uterus and ovaries, and they had to take one of my ovaries out. It just wouldn’t heal. They did manage to save the rest, but I’m still healing. The sepsis is making things take so much longer than normal— “

  “Wait. What? You had surgery? Here?” he interrupts.

  “Yes. I had to.”

  “They didn’t tell us? How could they not tell us? We were there all the time. I don’t understand.”

  “I asked them not to, and that meant they couldn’t. Technically they couldn’t anyway, because none of you are legally family and I’m an adult, but I specifically asked them not to mention surgery at all when any of you were in the room.” He looks betrayed and I feel awful. “I couldn’t talk about it, I didn’t want to explain anything. And really, you guys are amazing, the most wonderful people I think I’ve ever known, but I didn’t know you then and Alex had enough problems of her own. The last thing I wanted was for her to spend more time worrying about me when I almost got her killed. So, they told you I had developed a serious infection and you all took it at face value until the doctor mentioned the ‘mental’ thing. It was easier for me.”

  “You’ve told Alex by now though, right? She knows that at least?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “No one. Other than the doctors and nurses, you are officially the only one who knows. You are officially the only one who knows everything. I’m sorry to burden you with it.”

  He doesn’t say anything for a long time and it’s hard not to fill the silence. Then he laughs, “I’m an asshole,” he says.

  “No, you’re not. Why would you say that?”

  “Because I’ve been fighting with the hospital over your bills. I refused to pay them until they gave me itemized bills, because they seemed ridiculously high, and they’ve been refusing to give me itemized bills because they don’t have authorization from you.” He laughs harder. All I can do is stare.

  CHAPTER 9

  “YOU’RE paying my bills?” It comes out as a screech that makes me wince, but I have no idea what he’s talking about.

  He stops laughing instantly, and I know he didn’t mean to tell me. He swallows so hard he makes a cartoonish gulping sound. “Yes.”

  “Why? Chance said he’d take care of them and I could pay them back when I get better. I don’t understand.”

  “He couldn’t afford to pay them.” He looks like a little boy caught in a lie, with no way out.

  “Why wouldn’t he just tell me that? They could have gone to collections or whatever, I was planning to let them do just that! I would have paid them off eventually. He all but begged me to let
him handle it. Why would he do that? I would never have agreed, but he was so insistent.”

  Jace moves to the edge of the bed, dangling his legs over the side. “Okay. I will explain, Tiny, but I would really like to use the bathroom, take a shower, and get a drink. Maybe some breakfast— “

  “Jace, I want— “

  “I know you do, Sweetheart. I’m not pushing you off or ignoring you. You deserve an explanation and I will answer you, today, while we eat breakfast. Neither one of us ate dinner last night, you need your meds, and we’re definitely not getting any sleep. This isn’t going to be a two-minute conversation. Please? Shower, food, bathroom. I’m begging here.” His big blue puppy dog eyes are very convincing, and I could use all of those things as well. It’s been a very long day, and it’s still early morning.

  I laugh and swat at him despite my annoyance, “Fine. Go. But I will get my answers.”

  He smiles, a real smile, and my heart melts. Dammit. “Go get your meds. You can have the shower when I’m done. Unless you want to join me? Hmmm?” I know he’s joking, just lightening the mood, and his playfulness is contagious.

  “No, sir. I’m having nothing to do with you until you give me answers,” I answer, sticking my tongue out. I can still hear his laugh after the bathroom door closes.

  Downstairs, I go into the kitchen and make coffee, before I chug a mini juice and take my meds. I’m confused, and more than a little humiliated that Jace has been paying my medical bills. Especially after the speech he gave last night about preferring to be alone. He doesn’t get ‘tangled’ he said. I feel like I’ve tried to hook him into something without even knowing about it.

  Maybe there’s some arrangement between him and Chance that I don’t know about? There must be.

  I let my mind wander while I wait for him to get out of the shower. I consider trying to make breakfast, but my cooking skills aren’t the type that will make anyone happy – including myself.

  I hear the water shut off upstairs and pull down a coffee mug for Jace. I fill it with coffee and stir in the teaspoon of sugar I know he likes. I leave it on the counter for him and go back upstairs to get ready for my shower.

  I’m halfway up when I hear the bathroom door creak open and close again, and then the door to Chance and Alex’s room close. He had been sleeping on the couch I think, but he keeps his clothes in there so they’re not out in the open.

  I enter my room and find a clean pair of jeans, a pink bra and panty set, and a black sweater that I haven’t worn since I moved here. It’s got sheer panels down each side, which show a lot of the scarring on my rib cage. It’s long sleeved, and surprisingly warm despite the panels and used to be my favorite. Now that Jace knows about the scars, and he’s the only one here, I’m excited to wear it again.

  When I open the bathroom door it smells like rain. Like Jace. It’s a warm, comforting smell and it makes me smile. I try to block thoughts of him and hurry through my shower.

  When I get out, I’m surprised there aren’t any smells of cooking wafting up from the kitchen. I did tell him that I wanted to learn to cook, so maybe he’s waiting for me. I get dressed in record time, towel drying my hair and leaving it to do as it pleases.

  In the kitchen, he’s sitting at the island, the cup of coffee I made him half gone. He watches me as I walk in, “You look chipper,” he says, smiling. I go to get coffee, but it’s already made, just like I had left his for him. I get it and take it to the island, sitting next to him.

  “I feel chipper, if that’s really a thing,” I say, smiling.

  “I’m glad. It’s nice to see you happy.

  “I am happy. I mean, I’m tired. Exhausted, really, and I really want those answers you promised, but I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off me. I didn’t think I could ever feel this good again.”

  He grins at me, throwing an arm over my shoulder and squeezing me into him, “Now, just think how much better you’ll feel after you get some food in you” — I look up at him, my thoughts obvious— “and your answers,” he says, grinning.

  “So… breakfast?” I ask hopefully.

  “You bet. Get your coat, Tiny,” he says. He glances down at my bare feet, “And some boots. There’s snow on the ground.”

  “I thought we were cooking. What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “Nothing, I just thought you’d like to get out of the house. You only leave for doctor’s appointments, and I’d like to take you out to breakfast.”

  My knee jerk reaction is to politely decline. We talked about a lot last night, but we never touched on the part where I feel like I’m drowning in public. I feel like everyone is watching me when I’m out. I never used to be this way, it’s only been since Travis happened. As irrational as it is, I feel like everyone can see what happened to me, just by looking at me. And, he’s not the kind of guy who eats breakfast with women, he said. Does that mean he doesn’t see me as a woman anymore? Of course, it does.

  Jace is watching me, waiting for an answer and I know he’s trying to be kind, but I’m terrified. I meet his eyes and remember the night he laid next to me, holding my hand as I fell asleep. The thought that I could be in a war zone and as long as he was holding my hand I’d be perfectly safe is all I can think of. As though he’s read my mind, he stretches his hand out to me, and I take it.

  The ride to town is longer than usual as it appears that it snowed most of the night. He gets a call on the way, someone about a fence that was hit by a snowplow and I feel like I’m eavesdropping, but I have no choice since it comes through the speakers. I watch the view out the window and try to give him privacy. He tells the guy that the shop is shut down, which is news to me, but that he’ll swing by in a couple of hours and make it safe for his dogs. The man thanks him and they hang up.

  “Sorry about that,” he says.

  “That’s okay. Work is important. Why is the shop closed?” I ask.

  “Because of the weather. I laid most of my guys off until it settles down. The ground is frozen and it’s miserable out. They don’t get much done when they can only be outside for ten minutes and then have to be in the truck for twenty just to feel their fingers again. They make more money on unemployment now than they would working the couple of hours a day I would need them for. I hate having to do it, but that’s construction in New York,” he says.

  It makes sense, but makes me worry about him paying my bills again. I resist the urge to bring it up, and decide that if he doesn’t explain by the time we finish our breakfast I will.

  He turns on the radio, and Metallica blasts through the speakers. It’s not my favorite thing, but it is fun to listen to him sing along. He has a great voice, and I want to hear it more. The next song that comes on is a Florence + The Machine song that I love. They’re my favorite band, and I can’t help but sing along. He reaches over to change the station and I see him glance at me from the corner of my eye. His hand hovers by the knob for a second and then he puts it back on the wheel. The lyrics couldn’t be any more perfect for how I’ve been feeling lately, and I forget everything, losing myself in the song. I close my eyes, blocking out the world, and dance and sing in my seat.

  When the song ends and I open my eyes, I see that we’re parked in front of the little diner on Main Street, and he’s staring at me. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, but I know that I just made a complete fool out of myself. It occurs to me how he could take the lyrics, and I feel my face flush, but I don’t care. It felt good.

  “What song was that?” he asks.

  “Ummm… “No Light, No Light”, thank you for leaving it on.”

  He continues to stare, face thoughtful. “Who sings it?”

  “Florence and The Machine.” I answer.

  “I’ve never heard of them, she has a great voice,” he says, still looking at me with an expression I’ve never seen on him. I wish I knew what he was thinking.

  “They’re my absolute favorite. I love her voice so much, I can’t help but be happy when I hear her s
ing,” I answer, feeling more than a little stupid for gushing about a band, but needing to fill the silence.

  “I noticed, and you weren’t so bad yourself,” he says, smiling. I smile back, more than a little self-conscious. “Ready to go in and get some breakfast?” he asks.

  The happiness I feel disappears as easily as it came. Oh well, I said I’d go in, and I’m going. “Sure,” I answer, opening the door to the freezing cold New York winter morning.

  The diner is a cute little place, and the heat is working overtime. I see that many of the patrons are elderly and assume that’s the reason they have it so warm inside. An older lady directs us to a table in the middle of the room. It must be eighty degrees, and I berate myself for not changing my sweater. I don’t want to take my coat off, because I don’t want anyone to see my scars, but I’m dehydrating by the second. She returns with our waters and coffee and Jace asks her if we can move to another table that is in the back corner, all by itself. It’s an odd place to put a table, but I’m relieved. It doesn’t block anything, but it’s at least much further away from the other patrons. We sit down and she says our waitress will be with us in a moment.

  It’s still much too exposed for me to feel comfortable. I can see people staring, and sit down with my back to the wall, leaving my coat on and trying to concentrate on the menu.

  “Tiny?” he says, jolting me out of my misery.

  I look up, into sad eyes, “Huh?”

  “Take your coat off. No one will be able to see them. They’re nowhere near as visible as you think they are.”

  I’m speechless. How did he know? I hesitate, still unsure.

  “Sweetheart, you’re going to sweat to death. Would you like to go somewhere else?”

  Please, please, please. “No. This is fine. I should have mentioned that I freak out a little bit in public now. I’m sorry.”

  “You didn’t have to mention it, I can put two and two together as well,” he says. I don’t miss the reference to me insisting that he wasn’t interested me last night.