Neighbor Girl (Southern Girl Series Book 2)

by Georgia Cates

  Please, Oliver. Please come for me.

  “You so easily forget what you did to me.”

  His whiskey-infused breath is on my ear. Makes my fucking skin crawl. “I haven’t forgotten, love. But we can start over. It’ll be like that other life never happened.”

  He seriously thinks we can start fresh? One word: delusional.

  “I will never forget or forgive what you did to me.”

  His woodsy fragrance infused with Jack and Coke, a scent once so familiar, engulfs my nose. Sickening. How did I ever find that sexy?

  “Marry me and you’ll have everything your heart desires. I’ll give you all the babies you want. You won’t have to work. You can stay home and be a mother like you always wanted.”

  No. That’s what Martin wanted. Me tied to him at home with his kids. That was never my plan, but he damn sure tried to convince me it was.

  He wants to talk babies? We’ll talk babies. I’m about to drop the bomb I’ve been holding for four years.

  “You mean you’ll give me another baby to replace the one you killed when you attacked me?” I’ve always wanted to tell him he finally got his wish and then destroyed it.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I was pregnant with your child when you beat and stabbed me and left us for dead.”

  “No… no… fuck no.”

  I can’t see the pain on his face, but I hear it in his voice. And I’m glad. Thrilled I’m able to hurt him in some way.

  Most men wouldn’t mourn the loss of an unborn child but Martin’s not every man. He had gone through four wives by the time I came along, and none of them had given him what he wanted so badly. A child. Specifically, a son to carry on his name and take over his empire.

  I was so certain he was infertile. That’s why I didn’t put up a fuss when he demanded I stop taking my birth control pills. I thought there was no way I’d get pregnant if his four previous wives hadn’t. He was the common denominator in the equation for no baby.

  And I was so very wrong.

  “God, you had my baby inside you that night? I wouldn’t have laid a finger on you had I known.”

  “You shouldn’t have laid a finger on me regardless.”

  There isn’t a place hot enough in hell for this man. I wish he were dead and burning right now.

  “He would be three years old right now if you hadn’t killed him. He was your own flesh and blood, Martin. Probably your only chance at a son.”

  I have no idea if the baby was a boy or girl, but I know the thought of losing a son kills him.

  “Oh God. I didn’t know, kitten.”

  Kitten. That word from his lips makes my hair stand on end. I hate it.

  He releases my hands and turns me so I’m facing him. He cradles his hands on each side of my face. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

  Those eyes. I never wanted to look into this man’s eyes again. He’s insane. And the dark obsession I see there confirms it.

  “I’m not sorry. Not one bit. That baby would have tied me to you for the rest of my life. And you would have made me miserable every day I walked this earth.”

  I’ve had that thought in my head on a daily basis for four years, but I’ve never said the words aloud. They’re so ugly and horrible for a mother to say. It was an innocent baby. It didn’t ask to be conceived and it sure didn’t ask to be killed.

  “You’re angry with me about the baby. And you should be; it was all my fault you lost him, but I swear I’ll make it up to you. We’ll try again. I’ll put another baby inside you, and we’ll have our family.”

  He’s seriously lost his mind if he believes that’ll ever happen.

  “No. Way. In. Hell.” I shove at him but he doesn’t budge. “Let go of me, Martin.”

  “No. You’re coming home tonight back into our bed where you belong. So help me, Adelyn, I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you if you fight me. You know I will.”

  Yes. I know all too well what Martin is capable of doing. If he says he’s taking me, he fucking means it.

  And now I’m absolutely terrified.

  It’s now or never.

  “Oliver!” I’m able to scream his name once before Martin spins me around and pins me in a bear hug with one hand over my mouth.

  “Dammit, kitten. Why’d you have to do that?”

  He lifts me from the ground and walks backward. I know he’s taking me to his car. No. Not again. If he gets me inside, I’m a goner. I will choose death over submitting to him again.

  I’m not ready to die so I choose to stop panicking and recall Willie’s teachings. Adelyn, work with your attacker’s movement rather than fight against it. Use the lift to help facilitate an effective defense.

  Martin wants a fight? I’ll give him a fucking fight.

  I kick out of my heels when he lifts me higher. Putting the sole of one foot on his thigh, I push away from him so I can kick out my leg and gain the needed momentum to slam it backward in an upward motion into his balls.

  “You… motherfucking… bitch… whore.”

  Martin immediately bends forward just as Willie said he would, and my feet are back on the ground.

  My chance to run.

  Except he doesn’t release me.

  Lean forward, Adelyn, and throw a reverse elbow to your attacker’s head. He’s bigger. Stronger. Maybe even faster. But also completely unprepared for what is about to come his way. It’s as though I’m hearing Willie’s voice in my head. And I obey.

  I lift my left heel from the ground and turn so my right elbow can catch Martin directly in the nose. And it does.

  “Stop it, kitten.”

  I repeat the jab a second time. And a third. I will not stop until he releases me. Or my arm breaks. And even then I’ll turn and use the other arm.

  Martin releases his hold on me and I stumble forward, nearly losing my balance and then falling on all fours on the asphalt.

  “What the hell is wrong with you, Russ?”

  I look back at Martin. His face is red. He’s struggling to free himself from Oliver’s grasp but it’s no use. He’s holding Martin in a chokehold from behind, and he isn’t letting go. If anything, his grip is growing tighter.

  “What the fuck, man?”

  “She’s… mine,” Martin manages to squeak out.

  Oliver looks at me, total confusion on his face. “What’s he talking about?”

  “Russ Martin.” I say his name and that’s all it takes for Oliver to understand.

  I never called him Russ because he was my boss, Mr. Martin. And then just Martin.

  Ferocity. A look I’ve never seen on Oliver’s face and then his bicep bulges as he squeezes tighter. “You like beating up on women who can’t defend themselves?”

  I watch Martin’s face go from red to purple to a shade of ash.

  “Oliver, you’re choking him.”

  “Oli… ver.” Martin is barely able to squeeze out his name.

  I watch the life slowly drain from Martin’s eyes and it scares me. But not for him.

  “Stop, Oliver. Please. You’re going to kill him and then where would we be?”

  No two ways about it. Martin is dying before my eyes––by Oliver’s hand.

  “Baby, please. Don’t do this to yourself. To us.”

  Oliver is like a dog who has gotten a taste of blood and doesn’t want to let go, so I move closer. “Look at me.”

  He ignores me and I pat my chest. “Look at me, Thorn.”

  He does but I can tell he doesn’t want to. “You have to stop. Please.”

  I see his grip lessening. “That’s it.”

  “I’m letting go, you son of a bitch. Make one move toward Adelyn and I will end you.” Oliver’s jaw is clenched. His teeth gritted. His voice a deep snarl.

  What I see in Oliver’s eyes tells me his words aren’t a threat. He means what he says.

  Martin falls to the ground, panting for air, holding the front of his throat. “Fuck, Oliver. It feels like you c
rushed my windpipe.” His voice is little more than a rasp.

  “You’re a lucky fuck I didn’t.” He puts both hands in his hair and fists the top. “I can’t believe this. Russ Martin.”

  He bends over and puts his hands on his thighs. He looks like he may throw up. “All this time I’ve been imagining this Martin guy was some kind of inhuman monster. Turns out he’s my client. Someone I considered my fucking friend. How? How could I have not seen that?”

  Oliver straightens when I approach him. I wrap my arms around his waist and press my head to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

  He strokes his hand from the crown of my head to the end of my hair. “Fuck, Adelyn. This isn’t on you.”

  I lift my head from his chest. “Please just get me out of here.”

  “We have to call the police. You need to press charges against that fucker.”

  I look at Martin stretched out on the pavement, still working to catch his breath while holding his throat. Doesn’t look like he’ll be getting up anytime soon. “No.”

  “Come on, Adelyn. You can’t be serious. He assaulted you. Tried to kidnap you. And he would’ve been fucking successful if I hadn’t come back here.”

  It’s too late for help from the police. I’m in too deep. “I’ve been blackmailing him for four years. You think he won’t rat me out if I have him arrested? Financial records will prove what I’ve been doing. All the money I’ve taken from him. If he goes to jail, I go too. Except he’ll probably get off while I’ll rot. Everything that happened here tonight is hearsay. No proof other than what we claim. Please tell me you understand.”

  I’m totally backed into a corner and it’s my own fault.

  “Looking at him makes me sick. Can we just go now?”

  “Yeah, baby.” Oliver takes his phone from his pocket. “This is Oliver Thorn. I need a pickup at Bridge Street Gallery and Loft. ASAP.”

  No two ways about it. I’m fucked.

  And not in the way I want to be.

  15

  Oliver Thorn

  Leaving Russ safe and sound in that parking lot fucking killed me. Killed. Me. I wanted to do to him what I did to Jimmy. Make him pay for all his wrongs.

  Or truth be told, much worse.

  I lost it. In that moment when my arm was locked around his airway, I wanted nothing more than him dead. But then Adelyn made me look at her. Made me hear her. And I knew I’d lose her if I didn’t stop and take back control.

  Adelyn isn’t saying a word. I hope it’s because she doesn’t want to have a conversation about Russ in front of the driver from the car service. Not because I scared the fuck out of her or because she’s going to shut down on me.

  I want her to feel safe so I wrap my arm around her shoulders and hold tightly. She burrows into my side, much like a baby bird being protected by its mother’s wing.

  I lower my mouth so it’s over her ear and speak in the softest voice my vocal cords will allow. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No. But—” She stops and I know in my heart something bad will follow that pause.

  “You can tell me.”

  She presses her face into my shoulder. Her voice is barely a whisper, and I must listen carefully to make out what she’s saying. “I didn’t see him because he came up behind me. I could only feel him and I thought he was you.”

  The dam holding her tears bursts, and she fists my shirt, clinging to me as though she’ll be swept away in their current.

  He touched her, maybe more, and she let him because she thought it was me. I can barely contain the rage within me. “What did he do to you?”

  Her only answer is her body shuddering against my chest. Lawry used to do the same thing when she’d retreat into that world inside her head where no one could hurt her. But I can’t let Adelyn go to that place. I need her here with me.

  “It’s okay. You can tell me. It wasn’t your fault.” I cup my hand around her head and kiss the top of her hair. “We can tell each other anything. I know your darkest secrets. You know mine. It’s what we do. It’s who we are.”

  She breathes in deeply and exhales over several seconds as if stringing out the moment before she has to say the words. “I thought you were pinning me against the van. Maybe exploring your newfound dominance over me. It never crossed my mind that you weren’t the one grinding behind me. Or the one pulling up my skirt and putting your hand in… my panties.”

  She pauses and shudders. “I screamed so loud for you when I realized it was his fingers inside of me.”

  Fucking. Son. Of. A. Bitch.

  “You don’t have to say any more.” I know exactly what the fucker did with his fingers. To my girl.

  “Please don’t be angry with me. I swear I had no idea it was him.”

  “I know and I’m not angry at you.”

  I should have killed that motherfucker.

  I kiss the top of her head again so she’ll know I don’t blame her. “You’re staying with me tonight.” And the next night. Maybe the one after that too. I may never let her be alone again.

  I don’t see her nod, but I feel the movement against my chest. “I’d like to grab some things from home first.”

  “Of course.”

  I enter Adelyn’s house first, just in case Russ isn’t smart enough to stay away from her. Once we’re in her bedroom, she walks around in a daze. She occasionally stops and goes completely still, her face grimacing. I’ve no doubt her mind is revisiting his attack, and I want to kill him all over again.

  “Just get the necessities for tonight. If you think of something you need I’ll come back for it.”

  “Okay.”

  She’s still standing there like a zombie so I feel like she needs a little coaxing. “Toothbrush. Hairbrush. Something to sleep in.” We’ll only be next door. No need to take a lot of stuff. “That should do for tonight, don’t you think?”

  “Almost.” She goes to her dresser and takes out a tank top, boxer shorts, and a pair of panties. “Do you mind if I use your shower?”

  “I don’t mind.”

  She’s stuffing her things into a duffel and I notice the black lacy lingerie set on the bed.

  “I was going to wear that tonight. My birthday gift for you.”

  That fucker ruined everything. I should have killed him.

  “It’s very pretty.”

  She needs to understand skipping sex is fine with me. But I also want her to see what the fucker did doesn’t change the way I feel about us.

  Going to her, I wrap my arms around her shoulders. “I will give you as long as you need.”

  “You are a very sweet and considerate man.”

  “I’m also a very tired man. Do you think you have everything you need?”

  “Enough to do me tonight.”

  Adelyn follows me through my house and into the master bathroom. I put her duffel on the counter. “Need anything?”

  “Towel and washcloth?”

  “Right. Sorry.” I open the closet and take out one of the fancy towel sets Lawrence bought for special guests. I’m pretty sure Adelyn qualifies. “Lawry’s doings.”

  She smiles as she takes the embroidered linens from me. “I figured as much.”

  “I think there’s plenty of shampoo and stuff but call out if you need anything.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  I change into sleep pants and a T-shirt while contemplating how to ask Adelyn what she prefers in sleeping arrangements. Does she want to sleep with me in my bed or take the guest room? I have no idea but I’d like to have her by my side tonight.

  I pull back the covers, toss all the frou-frou pillows into the corner of the room, and lie on the bed, waiting. Adelyn stays in the shower a long time. A really long time. I’m at the point of thinking about calling out to her when I finally hear the water stop.

  She comes out wearing her tank and boxers, her wet hair twisted into a bun on top of her head. “Do you mind if I come to bed with wet hair? I don’t feel like drying it.”

 
I guess I have my answer. She’s sleeping with me. “I don’t mind.”

  I get into bed, and she follows suit on the opposite side. “Thank God your ceiling fan is on; I can’t sleep without one.”

  “I have to run it for the noise. Creature of habit.”

  I lean over, turn off the lamp, and settle into bed, unsure of what Adelyn needs from me right now.

  Do I avoid talking about it? Keep things calm for now? I think so.

  “You did a great job with the party.”

  “I had a lot of fun planning it. Lawry let me do whatever I wanted.”

  “Kelsey and Ivy were impressed with you. That’s not easily achieved.”

  “Oh my God. Those two are hilarious.”

  “Those women are ridiculous when they’re together.”

  “Ivy, Kelsey, and your sister are an odd trio. Lawrence seems so different from them.”

  “Lawry is different from everyone.”

  “I can see that.”

  I love hearing the fondness she feels for my sister.

  “My parents were glad to see you again.”

  I hadn’t told them anything about my relationship with Adelyn. I was planning to see where things went with us first. But all of that was shot to hell when Mom saw us together. To say she’s happy is a gross minimization of her response.

  “I didn’t get to talk to them as much as I would have liked.”

  I’m certain Mom feels the same.

  “We’re having lunch at Lawry’s tomorrow. The family, Porter, Kelsey, and Ivy. You should come.”

  “I would love that. Thank you for the invite.”

  She can’t possibly love it more than Libby Thorn. She’ll probably try to arrange our marriage over dessert.

  “My pleasure.”

  It’s late, or early, depending upon the way you look at it. It’s been an exhausting night. Sleep is calling my name, screaming it in my fucking ear, but tonight’s incident needs to be discussed before we go to sleep. The Russ Martin chapter is nowhere near being closed, and I’m fearful that Adelyn and I won’t be able to move forward until it is.