by Angie Martin
Chapter Twenty-four
Mark woke two hours later. Sunlight streamed through the bedroom windows and across the blanket on the bed. Rachel rested on her side with her arm thrown over his stomach. He ran his fingertips over her skin and traced the muscular contours high up on her arm.
He cocked his head to better see her sleeping face. In sleep, a peace surrounded her, and her face appeared far more serene than during waking hours. A hint of a smile teased her mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, her chest rose and fell, allowing for the soft breaths she emitted from her parted lips.
For Mark, sex had always been for the sole purpose of pleasure, the temporary satisfaction of a superficial desire, leaving him empty and alone. With Rachel, it had been an unparalleled experience, fulfilling a very real emotional need. In the end, both lost the intense battle for control. She awakened a part of him he never knew existed. No matter how close he held her, how deeply he kissed her, or how much he touched her, it hadn’t been enough.
Even now, the desire to touch her overwhelmed him and he stroked his fingers through her hair. The small gesture caused her eyes to flutter open. She rolled onto her back and glanced around the room to orient herself to her surroundings. Her eyes landed on his and she smiled.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s okay, it was probably time I did. Besides, I woke you up first.”
He leaned over and kissed her. He propped himself up on his elbow. Looking down at her, he asked, “How about some breakfast?”
“Sounds good. I’m famished. Do you mind if I shower first?”
“Go ahead. I’ll find some clothes for you and set them outside the bathroom door. I can get yours washed while we eat.” He chuckled. “There’s a broken plate in my kitchen sink, isn’t there?”
She bit her bottom lip and guilt washed over her face. “I think so. I’m sorry. I’m sure I made quite the mess.”
“For the first time in my life, I don’t care about a mess.” He twirled the ends of her hair between his fingers. “Rachel, about what I said last night. I’ve never said that to anyone else before you. I’ve never even come close to feeling it until I met you.”
Rachel lifted her head off the pillow high enough to touch her lips to his.
Mark put his hand behind her head and lowered her head back down to the pillow, as his mouth moved over hers. Their bodies were separated by a blanket, and Mark thought it was for the best or they might not make it to the kitchen for breakfast anytime soon.
Their lips parted and Rachel smiled. “I love you, Mark. I’m not saying it just to say it, or because it’s expected of me. I couldn’t stop myself from feeling this way even if I tried. I want you to believe me when I say that.”
Her words seemed a little odd, and he wondered why she thought he wouldn’t believe her. “Of course I believe you,” he said. “I’m glad to hear you say all that because I feel the same way.” He moved away from her. “Go ahead and shower, and I’ll get your clothes in the wash.”
Rachel gave him another quick kiss and sat up. She swung her feet over the edge of the bed, and gathered a blanket around herself to use as a cover.
Mark’s smile disappeared at the sight of her back. Unsure if the light played tricks on him, he leaned over and squinted. Dozens of thin scars ran diagonal and horizontal across her back, too many for him to count. He reached out his hand and his fingertips connected with her back. She jumped off the bed as if lightning hit her, and brought the blanket around her body.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Rachel put her hand to her chest and exhaled. “I’m fine. You startled me.”
He sat up at her statement. Her trembling voice told him that she was a long way from being fine. The image of the scars lingered in both his mind and the pit of his stomach. His voice quieted. “What happened to your back? How did you get those scars?”
Her eyes darted around the room and the blanket twisted between her fingers. “It...it was an accident. I was hiking and I fell down a small hill and I skidded across some rocks and branches.”
His voice reflected his skepticism. “Hiking.”
“It was a long time ago. I’m going to shower now.” She retreated to the bathroom before Mark had a chance to respond.
Chapter Twenty-five
The palpable tension crushed the air between them while they ate their omelets in silence. Rachel finished her cup of coffee and stood up. “Would you like some more coffee?” she asked.
Mark didn’t answer. She walked to the coffee pot, and the drawstrings of his pajama bottoms bounced around her knees. A day ago, he would have enjoyed watching her walk around in his clothes after spending an incredible night together, but the scars on her back completely obliterated all feelings of joy.
The steady sound of her clothes tumbling in the dryer reminded him she would leave soon. If he wanted his questions answered, if he was going to push her, now was the time. He took a deep breath. “You said you love me.”
“I do love you, Mark,” she said without turning around.
“Then when are you going to learn to trust me?”
Rachel tilted the carafe until her cup was full. Returning it to the burner, she turned around and leaned against the counter. “It takes a long time to trust someone. Trust is a tricky thing.”
“No, it’s not. You trust Danielle, right?”
“Of course, but I’ve known her for a long time. I know she won’t—”
“Won’t what? Betray you? Hurt you? Leave you?”
“Sure. All of those things.”
“Why won’t you trust me? Do you think I’m capable of doing any of that to you?”
Rachel averted her eyes to the floor. “I don’t know.”
Mark pushed his chair back from the table and stood up. “I feel like I’m walking around with a sign on my forehead that says ‘Bad Guy’ in neon letters, but what have I done to deserve that? I’ve done nothing to warrant your mistrust, nothing to warrant being lied to.”
“Lied to? When have I lied to you?”
Her words rang hollow, and he could tell she knew what he was talking about. “For starters, your explanation of the scars on your back seems strange.”
“I told you. I was hiking.”
“I’m sorry, Rachel, but we both know you’re not telling the truth, and I don’t understand why.”
Rachel’s silence confirmed his suspicions that she lied to him about what happened.
“Then let’s start with something smaller,” Mark said. “How did you get the scar on the front of your neck? It’s hard to see, but there is one there.” He pointed to his own neck, mirroring the location of hers. The thin scar was in an odd place for an accident requiring stitches, but until he saw the scars on her back, he hadn’t given the one on her neck much thought.
Her lips tightened and she remained silent.
“You have nothing for that one? Not even, say, a childhood roller-skating accident? Or maybe a cat scratch?”
Rachel took a sip of her coffee and ignored him.
Mark let out his breath in a huff. He wasn’t sure how he would ever get her to open up to him, and he regretted starting down this road. For the first time since they started dating, he worried he would drive her away, despite the recent revelation of their mutual feelings.
He had gone way too far and had too many unanswered questions to stop now. “Rachel, when I ask you questions, your answers are vague, and the things you say don’t always make sense. It’s obvious you’re hiding something.”
Rachel avoided his eyes. “What am I hiding from you?”
“I don’t know, but there are all these inconsistencies with you. Like last night, when you told me the story about your dad. I was excited to hear a memory that means so much to you. Then I thought about it. You told me you had a cook when you were growing up, so why would your dad make meatloaf? I believe every word you said last night. That was a genuine memory, but you were also
telling me the truth when you said you had a cook. So did you have the cook when you lived with your foster family? Because if they were the ones who had money, then your trust fund didn’t come from your parents. Did it come from your foster family? And why is it you never talk about them, Rachel?”
Her knuckles whitened with her tight grasp on the mug handle. She continued staring at the floor, as if frightened to look in his direction.
Mark took a step forward. “I know you aren’t telling me everything. You’re shutting me out of your life when I very much want to be a part of it.”
She met his eyes and spoke in a hushed tone. “I’m not shutting you out, Mark.”
“Okay, then let’s try something more simple than your scars. Where is your home? Where did you grow up?”
She set the coffee mug down on the counter behind her and crossed her arms. “California.”
“You’ve told me that before, but California’s a pretty big place. Can you narrow it down?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. I have a lot of sad memories with my parents’ death.”
“My parents died when I was young, too. Hell, my mom committed suicide and I found her body, yet I still talk about my life. Please, answer this one question. Where did you grow up in California?”
“What does it matter if I answer you or not? You won’t believe me,” Rachel said.
“I’d believe you if I knew you could be honest with me.”
“I am honest with you.”
“Only when it suits you.”
“Only when it won’t hurt you.”
Mark stepped back and anxiety sliced through his chest. Her wide eyes and open mouth revealed she had no intention of blurting out a confession. Until now, he wasn’t convinced she was hiding anything from him, since he only had suspicion and nothing concrete. For the first time, he realized her eyes were stripped of innocence and held a deep-seated torment that distressed and even frightened him.
He laid his hand on her arm, his eyes stinging with tears. “What happened to you, Rachel?” he whispered.
Her lips parted as if she was going to answer. She appeared to battle with herself to speak, and a tear escaped from her moist eyes. She brushed past him and walked toward the living room without a word.
Mark cursed under his breath and ran to catch up with her. He grabbed her arm and whirled her around. “I know you wouldn’t hide things from me unless you had a damn good reason for it. You have to realize that I love you, and I am not going away. Ever. Do you understand me?”
Rachel kept her eyes lowered to the floor.
“Rachel, please.”
“If you knew me, you would never say anything like that. If you knew, you wouldn’t love me, you wouldn’t want me.”
Mark wrapped his arms around her and she buried her face in his shoulder. “I don’t care what’s happened in the past,” he said. “Nothing can change how I feel about you. You may think there are things you can’t tell me, but you can. Whenever you’re ready, tell me and I will listen.”
He held her away from him and looked at her. “I’m on your side, Rachel. I’m not one of the bad guys. I’m never going to leave you and I am never going to hurt you. I need you to trust me on at least that much.”
Rachel moved into the living room. She settled into the couch cushions and said, “San Diego.”
He sat beside her and took her hand.
“I was born in San Diego and lived there until I was ten. Then my parents died and I moved to northern California.”
“With your foster family?”
“Yes. When my parents died, the world I knew came to an end. If I don’t talk about the other family, it’s because I would rather remember what life was like when my parents were alive. The worst thing is I don’t remember what my parents look like.” She looked up and met his eyes. “Isn’t that horrible? To love someone so much and not be able to see them after they’re gone? I have a few memories of them, but their faces are always blurred. The harder I try to see their faces, the fuzzier they become.”
“You don’t have any pictures of them?”
“The only thing I have is a baseball cap my dad bought me a week before he died.” She smiled to herself. “My mom made the mistake of sending us out to buy a dress for some school concert. I didn’t want to wear a dress, so I told my dad if he bought me a baseball cap, I’d get a dress. At the time, I didn’t realize he could take me home and let Mom deal with me. After all, dresses were her department, but he bought me the hat.”
Rachel took a deep breath before continuing. “Sometimes I wonder if he had a feeling something was going to happen to him. He shouldn’t have let me get away with that kind of manipulation, but he did. It may seem like a small gesture, but that hat helped me through their deaths. I slept in it the first few nights at the es...with the foster family. It made me feel closer to my dad, like he was still alive somewhere.”
She almost slipped, Mark thought. Her first few nights at the what? She started saying something else, but she corrected herself. Her face was calm and joyful with the memories of her father, her voice steady and strong. But when she corrected herself, Mark saw a flicker behind her eyes. While her expression did not change, he sensed a tremendous pain inside of her. Despite his desperation to know, he didn’t ask, worried she might stop talking again if he questioned her story.
He wanted to comfort and soothe her, but without knowing what caused her pain, he didn’t know how to help. He needed to get her to talk about her parents again. Every time she spoke about her father, she seemed happy. “You’ve never really talked about your mother before,” he said.
Rachel creased her brow. “I don’t remember much about her, not like I do with my dad. I don’t know where she worked or other details like that.” Her face softened with a smiled. “I do know she sparked my interest in books.”
“So I have her to thank for you coming into my bookstore,” Mark said.
“It’s all her fault we met. As far back as I can remember, she not only read to me, she made up stories of her own. I would sit beside her in a rocking chair on the back porch and she would tell me fairy tales. The first time she had me make up my own story, I got to the end of it and realized I forgot to include a Prince Charming. I was stuck at the end, with no one to save the princess from the evil witch.”
“What happened to the princess?”
“Nothing. I couldn’t finish the story because the princess couldn’t be saved. I think my mother was distraught, but she didn’t show it. Instead, she coaxed me to start over and reminded me not to forget Prince Charming. I asked her why and she told me that every fairy tale has a Prince Charming.” A deep hurt strangled her voice and her brow creased. “I’ve never forgotten that.”
Mark squeezed her hand, and his gut twisted with anxiety. He wanted to drive straight to the cause of her anguish, but he stopped himself from asking more questions. Whereas before he searched out the truth, he was now afraid he had opened a door leading straight to that truth. Hearing the pain in her voice, seeing the agony in her eyes, he was no longer certain he wanted her to stop lying.
Chapter Twenty-six
Twirling a black permanent marker between her fingers, Rachel pretended to study the map of the United States when Danielle entered the living room. Spread out on the coffee table before her, Rachel looked at the black dots that peppered the map, and wondered where they would go next.
Danielle walked over to the table, leaned over Rachel, and found Kansas on the map with her finger. A black dot covered the city of Wichita. “You’re kidding, right?” Danielle asked.
Rachel kept her eyes glued to the map. Each black dot marked a city where she lived at some point during the past three years. “We’ve been here far too long,” she said.
“I know you’ve been bouncing around this crazy idea of leaving Mark, but I thought we were staying here for another few weeks no matter what happened between you two.”
Rachel shrugged and said, “I�
�ve changed my mind.” She set the marker down on the map.
Alarm flooded Danielle’s voice. “What happened with Mark? You stayed with him again last night, so did you break it off this morning?” Danielle sat down beside her on the couch after Rachel didn’t answer. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
“I have scars.” Her voice trembled and her eyes welled with tears. “On my back. I’m not supposed to have any scars.”
“Come here.” Danielle drew Rachel’s head onto her shoulder. Her hand stroked through Rachel’s hair.
“Did you know I have them?” Rachel asked.
“Yes, but they are fading.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You thought you didn’t have any scars. I didn’t think you needed to know otherwise. I knew how much it would upset you.”
“He saw them.” Rachel took in a jagged breath. “He saw them and asked me what happened.”
“Mark?”
“I told him a lie. Another lie. It wasn’t even a good one. He said he didn’t believe me.”
“It’s never bothered you this much to lie in the past.”
“My whole life is nothing but a lie. I know I’m doing it to protect him, but I’m tired of lying to him all the time.”
“It only bothers you because you love him.”
“I am not in love with him,” Rachel said.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“It’s never going to end. The rest of my life will be like it is now and it won’t ever be normal. I want it to end once and for all. I need some sort of peace in my life. I might not deserve peace, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting it.”
Danielle’s melodic voice soothed her. “Remember when you used to do this for me? Whenever the pain became too much to bear, you were always there to comfort me. You would tell me it would pass, that one day all of my bruises and scars would disappear. You were right. One day your scars will be gone, too. Maybe not on the outside, not all the way, but they will go away on the inside. I think you’re somewhat in control of how fast they disappear.”