LOVE REQUIRED
Book Three
The Real Love series
By Melanie Codina
Copyright © 2014 by Melanie Codina
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted without written permission from the publisher.
The book you are about to enjoy is a work of fiction. A resemblance to any person, living or dead, events and/or location is purely coincidental. References to real locale have been allowed by the businesses and used in manner to create atmosphere the reader can relate to. All events, the characters and storylines have been created by the author’s imagination and have been used fictitiously.
Cover design/art done by the awesome Regina Wamba over at Mae I Design and Photography. For more information visit her website at: http://www.maeidesign.com/
Or find her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/MaeIDesignandPhotography?fref=ts
Editing done by the fabulous Madison Seidler. For more information visit her website at:
http://www.madisonsays.com/
Or find her on Facebook at:
https://www.facebook.com/mseids
Published by Melanie Codina, San Diego, California.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Dedication
In life, we make mistakes. It is hoped that we learn from them and the scars they leave behind. Our scars are there to remind us of where we’ve been, they tell our history. All of them are testaments of survival, and that is what makes them noteworthy. Scars don’t define us or tell us where we’re going … they show us where we never want to be again.
This story is for anyone with scars of their own.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
At any given time, there are at least a dozen different voices in my head, all with their own sets of opinions and demands. Even though the majority of them are fictional, there are few based in reality. Some are passerby’s and some can be the supporting structure of my world. Whether you are the guy in line at Starbucks whose bad attitude caught my attention, or a permanent fixture in my life, all of you contribute.
And while I’m sure the jerk at the coffee shop has no idea his little tantrum just landed in a book, those of you who are important, know you have. To all of you, however trivial or vital your existence is in my world … thank you for being a part of it. From my bitches who know how to Keep It Real, to my children who make me whole, I would be nothing without you. I hope that when you read my stories, you can see where your contributions have come through.
As I make another contribution to the world of fiction, I find it hard to acknowledge each and every person who has touched me along the way. The volume of words needed to do so would add chapters on this book. The insane amount of bloggers and readers who have voiced their love and support of my books is humbling. Without you, my books would just be words, waiting to be read. You have given them life, and for that I will be forever grateful.
Taking a step behind-the-scenes of Love Required, I have to give props to my Cover artist, Regina Wamba at MaeIDesign.com. The covers you create find the readers for me, and for that, I thank you.
To my editor, Madison Seidler, you have once again taken my words and made them beautiful. Thank you for hearing what I say and making others want to hear them too. You are my super hero and I am currently working on your super hero name.
My beta readers and friends, Kristy, Jen, Marivett, Angie and Brenda, thank you for being brave enough to read the rough rough drafts. I never would have finished without you. To Casey, Starla, Debbie, Melinda and Trish, thank you for taking the time to read my unpolished work and wanting more.
To my children, you are the lights of my life, the pains in my neck and most certainly the foul odors in my day. Keep doing what you’re doing.
And to my husband, Daniel, you are the love of my life, the thorn in my side and the hand that I love to hold. You know there are many songs I hear in my head when I think of you. A list I can sum up with one liners, song titles and quotes like: Me and You; The Only Exception; All I Need To Know; I Won’t Give Up; Hard To Love; and You Had Me From Hello … but I think I hear you the most when Jason Mraz says stuff like, “Maybe I annoy you, with my choices, well you annoy me sometimes too with your voice. But that ain’t enough for me to move out and move on, I’m just gonna love you, like the woman I love.” Thank you for making me laugh out loud, gasp in shock and smile every single day. I love you.
Table of Contents
LOVE REQUIRED
Dedication
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
EPILOGUE
About the Author
PROLOGUE
Standing at the kitchen sink, Victoria rhythmically washed then snapped the ends off the fresh green beans, before tossing them in the nearby strainer. Recalling the events of her day, she couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t every day a woman got her first look at her unborn child. After thoroughly drying her hands on her apron, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the paper the ultrasound technician had given her.
She could clearly identify the tiny spinal cord and head in the grainy black-and-white image, as well as the beginnings of what would be arms and legs. It was amazing what technology could produce, and the fact that she could carry around a picture of her developing child, blew her away. After one last look, she carefully folded it and slid it back into her pocket, making a mental note to pick up something from the store so she could protect the image. It’s not like she could put it in a picture frame like the average mother-to-be did.
No. This precious little being needed to be, would be, protected, at all costs, and that meant not displaying his or her existence to her husband. Damien wouldn’t be pleased to learn they’d conceived a child. A shiver ran over her body at the thought of what her husband would do if he ever found out. That was why he wouldn’t—couldn’t—ever find out. She knew time was of the essence, now more so than ever.
Glancing at the clock, she calculated how much time there was before Damien came home. He was nothing if not predictable; she knew that for certain. Which was why she was pushing to get dinner completed before he arrived, while also keeping in mind what could happen
if she didn’t. Reaching up, she ran her hand over the thin but raised scar that ran along her right cheek. He called it an ‘everyday reminder’ of why she should always tend to his needs first. It also served to remind her to always make fresh vegetables and avoid having cans in the house.
Victoria had learned to identify the things that Damien could use against or on her. She hadn’t even considered him using the top to an opened can of green beans, which was a mistake she hadn’t made since.
Rinsing the fresh vegetable mixture in her strainer, she dumped them in a pot before checking the chicken in the oven and giving the simmering Alfredo sauce a stir. Turning back to the pot of vegetables slowly filling with water, she closed her eyes and sighed. She smiled at the thought of her child again and placed her hand on her stomach. My little miracle, she thought as she turned the water off and placed the pot on a burner.
Once again at the sink, she washed the dishes she’d already used so as not to set Damien off. A clean house was part of her duty, part of the whole “tending to his needs first” routine. For her, a clean kitchen provided less weapons for him to threaten her with. After turning off the water, she reached for a towel to dry her hands when she felt a hand stroke down the length of her hair.
She stiffened as she looked at the clock to see that Damien had come home early. Panic began to bubble up at the thought that his dinner wasn’t prepared yet since he hadn’t been due home for another forty-five minutes. Not only was his meal not ready, she also hadn’t changed or cleaned herself up for dinner, as per his instructions. Battling the sudden need to vomit, she tried to relax for him. Reactions that broadcast her fears had only triggered his need to torment her lately. Victoria wasn’t sure why he had been more aggressive recently, but it was another reminder that time was short. Her plans to protect her child needed to be cemented in place, sooner rather than later.
Trying to find her voice, she cleared her throat and said, “Damien, you’re home early. Is everything okay?”
Damien pressed his body into hers from behind as he swept her hair to one side, away from her face. She fought the urge to shiver as she felt his nose press against the side of her neck. He inhaled deeply before saying, “Can’t a husband come home early to see his wife? Are you not happy to see me?”
Immediately recognizing his words as ones she needed to answer correctly, she said, “Of course I’m happy to see you. I was only expressing my concern for your needs.”
A satisfied groan rumbled against her back. “Your words please me very much, Victoria.”
Slightly relieved, she continued, “I apologize for your dinner not being on the table yet. Since I wasn’t aware of your early arrival, your meal isn’t quite ready. Would you like me to slice up some cheese and tomato for you to snack on while we wait?”
Knowing exactly how to speak and what to say to make him believe she was compliant was imperative. Patiently, she awaited his response as he slowly began to run his fingers through her long, thick hair. Momentarily cursing herself for not putting it up, she prayed that he didn’t come along any tangles. Damien loved to stroke her hair, but despised when she allowed knots in it. Once his hand made the full sweep down the long length, she slowly let out a deep breath.
A moment later he finally answered, “Yes, I believe I would like you to prepare a snack for me. Since I have to wait.”
He took a step back, allowing her to quickly retrieve what she would need. Placing the tomato and cheese on the cutting board, she cringed at having to take out a knife. Silently cursing herself, she resolved to the fact she had no choice. So she pulled it out and began to slice the cheese. After decoratively dressing the plate with it, she went to cut the tomato before realizing it hadn’t been cleaned yet. She promptly washed it and returned to the cutting board—all the while knowing Damien stood somewhere behind her, watching.
Standing in front of the cutting board, she looked around but didn’t see the knife. A quick glance to the sink told her she hadn’t set it down over there. It was when she felt Damien press up against her that she caught sight of the knife. His body was firm against hers, and his hands boxed her in. His left hand rested along the edge of the counter on her one side, while his right hand had a firm grip around the handle of the knife.
Keeping her eye on his right hand, she fought the cauldron of fear that began bubbling over inside of her. Choosing her words carefully, she asked, “Damien? Have you changed your mind about a snack?”
He didn’t answer her. Silence filled the room as her heart rate jumped from an accelerate rate to an outright gallop. The pounding of it made her ears buzz. The palms of her hands gathered moisture against the marble surface of the counter as he made her wait for his response. Knowing she couldn’t do or say anything else at that moment, she focused on her breathing because the last thing she needed was to pass out from lack of oxygen.
After what seemed like hours, even though it was probably mere seconds, he finally spoke. Against the skin of her neck, she could feel his breath. “How are you feeling today, Victoria?”
Wondering why he would ask her that, and concerned that she wasn’t sure how to answer it without causing a problem, she said, “Fine, thank you very much for asking.” Her practiced response.
Damien waited a few moments before saying, “Don’t you think it would be proper to ask me how I’m feeling today?”
Shit! “I’m sorry. I assumed you were well since I asked you if everything was okay,” she said in a low, shaky voice. It was almost impossible to hide the fear and panic that were warring for top spot of emotions. She had no idea where Damien was going with the conversation, but experience told her it wasn’t good.
“Oh, you assumed …” he said, his voice moving a huge step away from calm and into the threatening category.
Realizing she still hadn’t asked him how he was feeling, since that was apparently what he wanted, she rushed to say, “How are you feeling today, Damien?”
“I’m glad you asked, Victoria. I’m actually not feeling very well today.” There was a pause as he lifted his left hand away from the countertop. Stiffening, she felt it once again run down the length of her hair before he continued, “It’s a good thing I ran into Dr. Riley today.”
At the mention of their general practitioner’s name, she held her breath. Knowing that patient confidentiality was a law, she hoped the nice old man wouldn’t have said anything to Damien about her referral to the obstetrician. Victoria also figured the doc probably assumed her husband knew about her pregnancy—since that would be the norm. She began to prepare herself for what he could say next, all the while knowing she might have just run out of time.
She knew she needed to continue the conversation he was forcing on her, so she said, “It’s a good thing you ran into him if you weren’t feeling well. Is there anything I can do for you?”
Hoping that directing her attention toward “taking care of his needs” would take the focus off her. She only had to wait a few seconds before she felt his hand begin to twist her hair, wrapping it around his fist, and yanking her head back. Hard.
Letting out a startled gasp, she tried desperately to clutch the countertop, giving herself an anchor. His lips were right against her ear as he whispered in a menacing tone, “Yes, there is something you can do for me, Victoria. How about you tell me why Dr. Riley would be congratulating me?”
She could almost hear the nails being hammered into her coffin with his words. A simple congratulation from a nice old man had promptly placed her life and the life of her unborn child in jeopardy. There was nothing to say that wouldn’t be met with the same reaction from him, so she remained quiet. Thoughts of what she could do to protect her baby clouded her brain. She knew she was going to have to run, but she’d hoped there would be more time to make a plan. As it was, she was trapped between the counter and an angry Damien, who had one hand wrapped around the long length of her hair and the other clutching a knife.
He was stronger than her—she kne
w this well. Her lack of strength was used to his advantage most of the time, which was why she tried to play his mind games. It allowed her to come out the winner on the other side, sometimes. She feared this time was going to be different.
Damien yanked hard on her hair again, directing her face toward him in the process. The surprise of the move pulled her from her thoughts, as she felt her hands spread apart on the counter. This told her Damien’s knife clutching hand was no longer on the counter.
She could feel his face in hers now. “Open your eyes, Victoria,” he demanded.
She had no choice, so she did. The rage she could see brewing in her husband’s eyes confirmed it—he knew there was a child growing inside her, and his hatred was evident. “Did you think I wasn’t going to notice?” he spit out.
Tightening his grip in her hair, he continued, “Did you think I wouldn’t see your body changing? It’s my body, Victoria! I know every inch of it, and I will not allow you to alter it into something disgusting and stretched out!”
As shocking as his words were, she’d heard them before. After they were married, he made sure she knew they would never have children—she would never be a mother. It was the first of many devastating blows he delivered in the early days of their marriage. But she could handle the shock of his words more than she could handle the feeling of his right hand, and knife, applying pressure on her abdomen.
Damien held the thick, flat part of the blade against her. There was two layers of fabric between it and her skin, but she could almost feel the metal, like a brand burning her. Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over at the thought of what might happen next. He was forcing her gaze on him so she was unable to hide the reaction from him. An evil smile spread across his face as he watched her tears fall, but he didn’t say anything, only applied more pressure with the blade.
Victoria tried to get a grip on her thoughts as they spun like a tornado ripping through her head. She wasn’t going to just let him harm her child, so she just needed to figure out how to get away from Damien and the knife. Still staring at him, tears blurring her vision, she blinked rapidly to clear them, causing more to fall. She felt them run down her upturned face and slip into her hair—the hair he gripped tightly in his hand. A sob began to rise up and escape as she fought the feeling of hopelessness that was becoming an overwhelming sensation. She had no way to fight him without a bigger threat being made to her child.
Love Required (The Real Love Series) Page 1
