by HELEN HARDT
Only she didn’t know that.
My God. My poor baby.
Jonathan cleared his throat again and continued, “Because Daphne didn’t remember anything and there were no other witnesses, only Sage could tell us what happened. She told us there were three men, all wearing masks. They took turns raping and beating both of them. They said they’d be harder on Sage, because she was ugly and deserved worse.” Jonathan shook his head, his eyes sunken and sad. “Sage was not unattractive, but as you know, no one can compare to Daphne. Even now, I feel the guilt. The guilt over feeling happy that my daughter was the prettier of the two. It might have saved her life.”
I gulped. “What else?”
“That’s it. That’s all Sage ever said. A week after she was discharged from the hospital, she hanged herself while her mother ran an errand to the grocery store.”
My head fell into my hands again.
“We couldn’t bear to tell Daphne what had happened to Sage, so we told her the Peterson family moved. Sage’s parents did move. They needed a new start, and who could blame them?”
His words registered, even with my face buried. They were only words, devoid of emotion.
I couldn’t let myself feel anything.
If I did, I’d lose it.
I couldn’t lose it. Daphne needed my strength.
“Daphne came home and remembered nothing of the attack due to her amnesia, so we had to tell her something.”
I raised my head. “What? What did you tell her?”
“That she was attacked by a gang of girls who were jealous of her.”
“She told me that. Some girls bullied and hit her a few times and she went into anxiety and depression. What about spending the night with Sage?”
“She didn’t remember any of that. She lost the previous seventy-two hours.”
I nodded. This wasn’t real. Couldn’t be real.
“There’s more,” Jonathan said.
More?
Fucking more?
“God, please. Just tell me. Get it over with.”
He opened his mouth but closed it when the bartender appeared in front of us.
“Jonathan Wade?” the bartender asked.
“Yeah, that’s me.”
He heaved a phone onto the bar. “You have a phone call.”
Chapter Six
Daphne
“Hello?”
My father’s voice. My father’s deep and comforting voice.
“Daddy? You’ve got to come home.”
“Daphne? What is it? Are you all right?”
Sirens blared in the distance. The ambulance. Finally.
“I have to go. The ambulance is here.”
“Daphne, what happened? Are you all right?”
“It’s Mom. She’s… I have to let them in, Daddy.”
“Stay on the line, sweetie.”
I put down the phone and ran to the front door. Paramedics carried a stretcher and rushed inside.
“Where’s your mother?” one of them asked.
“Upstairs. Come on.”
I raced up the stairway and led them to the bedroom.
“Is she okay? Will she be okay?”
“We don’t know yet. Give us some space, please.”
“But it’s my mother. She needs me.”
“Ma’am, please.”
I stepped away and stood in the doorway to the bedroom.
Then—
Daddy! I bolted back downstairs to the phone. “Daddy? Daddy, are you still there?”
Dial tone.
How far away was McFall’s? My father and Brad would be home soon.
Then everything would be okay.
It had to be.
A few seconds later, the paramedics carried my mother downstairs on a stretcher. An oxygen mask covered her face, and other wires and things stuck out of her.
“Is she okay?” I asked frantically.
“We’re doing all we can, ma’am.”
“Where are you taking her?”
“The hospital. You can ride with us if you want.”
“Yes, yes.” Then I changed my mind. “No. My dad’s on his way home. I need to be here to tell him where to go. Which hospital?”
“St. Joe’s. It’s closest. Go to the ER.”
I trembled as I nodded. “Thank you. Thank you. Please, help her. Please.”
They left and loaded my unconscious mother into the ambulance.
I fell to the floor and cried.
“Daphne, baby.”
Brad’s voice.
“What happened, sweetheart? Where did they take your mother?”
My father’s voice.
“S-St. Joe’s,” I said. “She… She took some pills. Valium. After she was drinking.”
“God,” my father said. “I have to get to the hospital.”
“I’m coming with you,” I said.
“No, sweetheart. It’s late. I want you to stay here. I’ll call with news.”
“But what if—”
“She won’t. I won’t let her.”
I nodded. My father never broke a promise to me.
“You two stay here. I’ll call as soon as I know anything.”
Guilt pulsed through me—guilt because I was almost happy to stay here. Even though I wanted to be with my mother, I hated hospitals. Hated them with a purple passion.
My father left.
Brad lifted me off the floor and held me.
I cried into his hard shoulder, completely messing up his shirt, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t stop the heaving sobs that racked my body.
This was me at my worst, and Brad was witnessing it.
What would he think?
He didn’t say anything, just held me and rubbed circles on my back. He was trying to comfort me, but I couldn’t be comforted. Not until I knew my mom was okay.
Why? Why had she done this?
Had I upset her that much by getting pregnant? It had been an accident. A true accident. We’d used a condom.
“It’s okay,” Brad whispered.
I pulled away then. “That’s not true. It’s not okay. My mother OD’d on Valium. Nothing about this is okay.”
He met my gaze. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Then he stared at me.
I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t see myself, but I could imagine. My face would be red and puffy, my eyes swollen and bloodshot.
I turned away.
“Daphne.” He touched my shoulder. “Look at me.”
“I’m ugly.”
“You’re beautiful.”
“Crying makes me ugly. I hate crying. I’ve vowed never to let anyone see me cry.”
“Your mother is in an ambulance. Of course you’re crying. It’s okay.” He kissed the top of my head. “And I’m not anyone.”
I sniffled.
“Hey.” He lifted my chin. “You’re not alone.”
I sniffled again.
“I’m here, and I’ll never leave you, baby. I swear on my life.”
His words were sweet, and even though they rang true, they made me fall into sobs again.
I cried and I cried and I cried.
In Brad’s arms, I cried.
Until finally, over an hour later, the phone rang.
Chapter Seven
Brad
I loved her. So damned much.
How could I not?
Learning the truth about Daphne had frightened me, unnerved me, enraged me, but never had I considered leaving her. I loved her, and we’d made a child together.
I would never turn my back on that.
Her father had described her as ethereal, and she was. My Daphne was too perfect for this fucked-up world. Too damned perfect. She didn’t deserve the horrors that had fallen onto her. Maybe her parents were right. It was a blessing that she didn’t remember it.
Would it stay buried forever?
Would I someday have to tell her what had truly occurred before her junior year? What she’d gone through? What had
happened to her best friend?
Thoughts whirred through my mind with the sound of a buzz saw—jumbled thoughts that had no bearing on what was happening now.
Daphne’s mother had overdosed. Daphne’s mother might die.
No.
Daphne was strong, but could she handle this now? She was young, she was damaged—she didn’t even know how damaged—and she was pregnant.
She needed her mother.
What if—
The phone rang.
Daphne jerked away from me and picked it up. “Daddy?”
Then a pause. A pause that seemed to last for hours as Daphne presumably listened to what her father was saying.
Her red and swollen face turned white.
No. God, no. That meant bad news.
No. Just no.
Not on top of everything else.
“I understand. Thank you, Daddy.” She hung up the phone and turned to me. “She’s going to be all right. They pumped her stomach. She’s going to be all right.”
I held her when she fell back into my arms.
“See? Everything’s going to be fine.”
She pulled back and sniffed. “Everything’s not fine, Brad. Everything’s so far from fine. My mother just tried to end her life. Because of me.”
“Baby, this wasn’t because of you.”
“Of course it was. I came home pregnant after a month in college. She expected more from me. I promised her I’d be okay.”
“You are okay. It was an accident. A true accident. We took precautions.”
“I know.” She dabbed at her eyes. “Crap. I need a tissue.”
“Okay.” I stood. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“Upstairs, to your right.”
I went up, grabbed the box of tissues out of the bathroom, and brought them to Daphne. “Here you go.”
She took several and blew her nose. “I must look atrocious.”
“You look beautiful.”
“You’re such a liar.”
“Baby, you’ll always be beautiful to me.”
“What about when I’m nine months pregnant and big as a house?”
“Especially then.”
That got a chuckle out of her—a tiny one, but a chuckle nonetheless.
“Why?”
“Because the baby we made is in there.” I touched her belly tenderly. “He’s in there now.”
“He?”
“Yeah, I think it’s a boy. What do you think?”
“I know it’s a boy. I’m not sure how, but I do.”
I smiled at her. She was so beautiful. So innocent. Yet her innocence had been stolen, though she didn’t know.
Now, more than ever, I renewed my vow to look after her always. She needed my protection, and I’d never waver.
Had I bitten off more than I could chew? Maybe, but it didn’t matter. I was all-in now. All-in for this sweet and wonderful young woman and the baby she carried. My baby. Mine and hers.
Daphne grabbed more tissues, dabbed at her eyes, and then blew her nose again. “Brad?”
“Hmm?”
“Daddy won’t be home tonight. He’s staying at the hospital.”
“I figured as much.”
“That means we’re alone. Here. In the house.”
The fact hadn’t escaped me, but I wasn’t going to—
“Make love to me, Brad.”
“Baby, this is your father’s house.”
“I don’t care. I need you.”
“You’re upset. You’re worried about your mother. That doesn’t mean you need sex.”
“It’s not the sex I need. It’s you. I need to feel something beautiful, and you and I together, that’s beautiful.”
I touched her cheek. It was red and puffy but still like silk beneath my calloused fingertips.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. Don’t treat me like a child, Brad.”
“But—”
She placed two fingers over my lips. “Please. We’re in love. I’m pregnant. There’s no going back now. I want to make love with you tonight. I need to.”
Trying to be a gentleman while this goddess begged me to make love to her was more difficult than I ever imagined.
“Please,” she said again.
Already my cock was responding. I wanted her. I always wanted her. But more than my desire to satiate myself in her body was my desire to take care of her, to do what was best for her. I wasn’t sure lovemaking fit into that category tonight.
“Daphne, I don’t think—”
“This is what I want. Show me what’s truly important.”
I’d made love to her before. But now… Now that I knew what she’d been through, how could I do this to her? She was so innocent. So damaged.
But so wonderful. And so fucking beautiful. And I loved her. I loved her so damned much.
Despite my name, I wasn’t made of steel. “All right, baby. Take me to your bedroom.”
Chapter Eight
Daphne
My bedroom wasn’t decorated in pink. Wasn’t overly girlie. The only problem was the twin bed, but we’d make do.
Puppy still sat where I’d left him earlier. I wasn’t embarrassed by my stuffed dog. I picked him up and moved him to a chair.
Brad looked around. My room was so small compared to his bedroom at the townhome, and especially compared to the room at his ranch house outside Snow Creek. He was so big and broad that this room seemed to swallow him up.
He acted hesitant, so I did something I’d never done. I took the lead. I walked to him, wrapped my arms around his neck, and pulled his head downward until his lips met mine.
I kissed him softly at first, and then I opened my mouth and let my tongue wander out to meet his. He tasted of liquor and woods, of cinnamon and strength, of everything that was important in the world. Then I deepened the kiss, kissed him the way he’d taught me. I wanted to take from him while giving to him. I wanted a raw and feral kiss.
He responded slowly, gently easing into it.
I pulled away. “Don’t hold back,” I demanded. “Kiss me like you mean it.”
“I always mean it, baby.”
“Then show me.”
He eased away from me. “I… I’m not sure I can.”
“Why? Don’t you want me?”
“I always want you.”
“Then why—?”
He grabbed the back of my head and planted his mouth on mine. This time he dived in, taking my tongue with his, snaking it over my teeth and gums.
A kiss. A real kiss. Brad had taught me what a real kiss was. It could be soft and sweet, and those kisses were wonderful. But right now? I wanted a kiss of passion. A raw kiss of need.
Because I needed Brad. I needed him so badly.
Our mouths melded together. Heat swept over me, through me, around me, landing between my legs. If anything, I felt it more intensely now that I was pregnant. Was it my imagination? Maybe. Or maybe it was the pure emotion of knowing the product of our love was growing inside me.
My little dove.
Brad broke the kiss and inhaled sharply. “I want you. I want you so much, Daphne.”
“I want you too. Now.” I lifted my shirt over my head.
He sucked in a breath. “Every time I look at you, you’re even more beautiful than before.”
His words warmed me, settled over me like warm chocolate syrup. He took his own shirt off and discarded it. I touched him, trailed my fingertips over his broad shoulders, his muscular arms, his chiseled chest and abdomen. Traced his nipples that hardened under my touch.
“I love how you touch me,” he said. “How it makes me feel.” He removed his boots and unbuckled his belt. “Will you touch me, Daphne?”
“Yes,” I murmured.
“I mean…”
“I’ll touch you anywhere you want me to.”
He lowered his jeans and underwear, sliding them down his legs and kicking them off.
His cock was hard
and ready. That was what he wanted. For me to touch him there.
I wanted to. It was part of him, and I loved every part of him. It had been inside me, helped me have such pleasure.
Guys loved to be touched there, loved to be sucked there. It was all new to me, but I wanted to please Brad more than anything in the world.
I tentatively reached forward—
“Wait.” He unclasped my bra and set it on the chair next to Puppy.
I had to close my eyes for a moment. Puppy wasn’t real. He couldn’t see what we were doing. But he was a symbol of my childhood, and I was no longer a child.
No longer a child.
In fact, before long, I’d have a child.
But that was my last thought of a child. No more while my body was responding to Brad’s eyes on me. I was hot. So hot. Burning in flames.
He unzipped my jeans and helped me out of them. He pulled my panties down my hips until I was as naked as he was.
He was beautiful. So beautiful.
“Tell me what you want,” I said.
“I need your touch, baby.”
I nodded. “Show me what to do. I want to please you.”
“You always please me.” He took my hand and led it to his penis.
My fingers trembled as I touched him. It was warm, so warm, as if it were made of burning embers underneath the smooth skin. Yes, it was smooth. Smooth and hot and perfect, two blue veins running over it like the marbling on his countertops in the townhome.
“Show me,” I said again.
“Grasp it. Like you’re shaking someone’s hand.”
I gripped him as he instructed.
A low groan left his throat. “God.”
“Is that good?”
“You have no idea.” He closed his eyes. “Do whatever you want, baby.”
“But I—”
He opened his eyes, meeting my gaze. “It feels good just to have you touch me.”
“Do…you want my mouth?”
“Only if you want to.”
“I want whatever you want.”
“That works perfectly, because I want whatever you want. If you want to put your mouth on me, then I want that too. But if you don’t, I don’t.”
“Except that you do.” I warmed all over. “I may be inexperienced, but I’m not naïve. I know what men like.”
