“And you couldn’t be sure that I wouldn’t turn out the same way,” I reasoned. It made total sense to me. It explained why she was so skittish, especially around men, why she didn’t let a lot of men touch her, why she’d had so little to write down about her past and her personal life.
She’d had no personal life. And writing all of that down on her notepad for the sake of a joke on my family would’ve been… just fucking wrong. It wasn’t like it was the kind of thing that would’ve come up to my family, anyway.
Trudie nodded. “I didn’t really know how to explain it all. It’s not really something you dump on someone right away, it’s not a…” She blushed. “…first date kind of talk. But then the longer it went on the harder it was to tell you because it felt like I was lying to you and there as an expiration date on all of it anyway so… why bother? And I didn’t think it would be a problem, I didn’t think that he would… that he would really show up here.”
She buried her face in her hands. “I should’ve assumed. I should’ve gotten out of the United States, I should’ve fled all the way to China. I should’ve known that he would come after me. He’s… Pete’s very possessive, and he hated it if I so much as looked at one of his friends or one of the men at the garage, even though he was always showing me off to them.” Trudie reached up to touch her eye, her temple, almost subconsciously, like she was remembering something—remember a strike, a blow, I realized with a sickening jolt to my stomach.
Anger raged in me. I wasn’t really a violent or angry person. Liam had always been the one with a bit of a temper. It was why our parents had gotten him into sports as a way to work out his energy, learn to deal with frustration constructively, and to be thoughtful of other people. But right now? Right now I was filled with a fury that I’d never experienced before.
How could anyone treat anyone else with that kind of vile behavior—especially someone like Trudie? How could you look at Trudie and feel anything other than a bone-deep softness, a need to protect and care for her? How could you look at her and even consider, even for a moment, being violent with her?
I didn’t understand it. But I knew that I’d do everything in my power to keep her safe from this guy.
“But I don’t understand how he found me,” Trudie went on. “You understand that’s why I—why I asked about the money. Not just compensation for going on the trip but actual payment.” She looked up at me. “I didn’t want to. It felt wrong. And that was even before I got to know you and see what a wonderful person you are. But I needed that money to make sure that he can’t touch me again. To get a restraining order and pay a lawyer, to make sure that my fake name sticks—although that didn’t really do me any good, I know.” She gave a rueful laugh. “So that was… that was why I needed it. To really start over and feel safe away from him. And now…”
Trudie’s eyes welled up with tears and my anger washed away in a flood of empathy. I still wanted to find this Pete bugger and dash his bloody brains in but that wasn’t as important as making sure that Trudie felt safe and cared for. I pulled her into me, cradling her, holding her tightly. I wouldn’t normally have dared, not now that our… ‘arrangement’ was over… but she clung to me and she clearly needed comfort.
“Oh, my love,” I whispered, petting her hair. “It’s all right. Don’t you fret. I’ll fix it. The bastard won’t ever touch you again.”
I meant that. I would keep Trudie safe, whatever it took. I had the money and resources. And if worst came to worst, I boxed regularly and had grown up wrestling with Liam constantly. I could hold my own and show this guy Pete a thing or two. That was the thing about most abusers—deep down they were actually cowards, and scared. They let that fear dictate their actions and rule them, and that was how they became like this.
Trudie held onto me and cried for a bit, and I just kept stroking her hair and soothing her. I had no idea how long we sat there, but I knew that I didn’t care. I’d sit there forever if that was what it took. I kept calling her sweetheart and love, and maybe it was revealing how I felt, but at that point, I didn’t really care either. She was going to find out eventually. I just wanted her to feel safe.
Eventually she relaxed and her crying subsided. I kept her there for a bit longer, still soothing her, and then pulled back enough that she could see my face. “Why don’t you go take a nice warm shower. That always helps me when I’m feeling like shit. The takeout should be here soon, and we can eat, and then get some rest. This will all feel better in the morning and we can figure out what to do.”
Trudie seemed to ponder that for a moment, then she nodded. “If you’re sure…”
“I’m sure,” I promised her. “I want you to feel good, before anything else. You can’t make good decisions while you’re starving and upset.”
The corner of her lips quirked upwards, and I hoped that I’d succeeded in lightening her load just a little bit. “Go on,” I encouraged, nudging her with my elbow. “Steal all the hot water, knock yourself out.”
The hot water actually wouldn’t run out. I had an amazing shower and the water pressure was fucking fantastic. But Trudie smiled a little more at the joke and went off to take advantage of the offer.
I sank back against the couch, rubbing my face as a heavy sigh worked its way out of me. This explained so much about her. All of her behavior, and her asking for the money, made so much sense now. I had suspected that she had some kind of bad thing in her past, perhaps some kind of trauma, but I’d had no idea it was this bad.
Pete had basically controlled her entire life. He’d taken advantage of a girl who was young and grieving for her mother, only a few years after losing her father, and he’d hurt her and cut her off from anyone who could’ve helped her. He hit her, he coerced her, he manipulated her. I’d give anything to be able to erase him from her life, to go back in time and make sure that she didn’t ever meet him.
Since I couldn’t do that, though, I would have to do the next best thing, which was taking care of her now and protecting her now, in the present and in the future. God, no wonder she’d needed a bloody fifty thousand dollars. Therapy alone would cost a lot, and a good lawyer could cost a fortune. I’d give it all to her and more, happily, whatever she needed to get her the life that she deserved.
Takeout arrived while Trudie was in the shower, so I got everything setup on the couch and put some episodes of The Great British Bake Off on the telly. Watching that show always soothed me when I was in a stormy mood, and I hoped that it would do the same with her. I figured Trudie wouldn’t want to just sit in silence, and she probably didn’t feel a whole lot like talking.
Shortly after the food arrived, Trudie emerged from the shower, wearing a big fluffy dark blue bathrobe that I immediately recognized as mine. I tamped down immediately on the thrill of possessive lust that shot through me. God, she looked fucking perfect, wearing my robe, my clothing, looking so comfortable and fluffy and relaxed. This felt like how it should be, like how the puzzle pieces were supposed to fall into place.
Keep it together, you bloody idiot, I reminded myself. This wasn’t about how I felt, although I was sure Trudie could guess my feelings by now. I wasn’t exactly being subtle and she was far from stupid. But just because she knew how I felt—or most likely did—didn’t mean I should make this about my feelings or what I wanted. This was about Trudie and helping her to recover.
Trudie smiled at me shyly and walked over to join me on the couch. “Thank you.”
“Hey, of course. You don’t need to thank me for anything. I’m happy to help you, however you need.” I watched as Trudie grabbed some food. “That includes if you need a lawyer or protection—but we’ll talk about that tomorrow. You’ve had a bad day, let’s just relax.”
Trudie nodded, then settled back against the couch. I hit play on the episode and threw one of my throw blankets over her legs, settling in.
She ate, and ate, and ate. I was pretty sure she hadn’t even realized how hungry she was until she had
the food in front of her. Going into shock would do that to a person. I kept quiet, just making a few noises here and there to agree with Trudie when she made an observation about the show. She’d never seen it before and seemed relaxed and delighted by it.
By the third episode, though, she was yawning, and I couldn’t blame her. Despite just lying in bed when I’d found her, I doubted she’d actually felt at all rested. Having a panic attack wasn’t the same thing as sleeping even if you were all wrapped up in blankets while you did it. I quietly cleaned up the takeout, turned off the television, and scooped her up. I wasn’t sure if Trudie would appreciate that, at least not normally, but this wasn’t a normal situation. And I suspected she needed physical touch, something to comfort her. We were all like that, deep down. Humans are social animals. We crave touch.
I settled her carefully into my bed, helping her out of the bathrobe and under the covers. “Stay with me?” she murmured.
Her eyes were so big and warm, so pleading—how could I possibly say no to her? How could I ever turn away from her?
I nodded, pulling back enough so that I could take off my clothes and put on my pajamas, crawling back into bed once I was ready to go. I didn’t want to press up against her while wearing nothing, or just my boxers. Maybe another time, sure, but definitely not right now. That wasn’t what this was about.
Trudie curled up in my arms and I stroked her hair, her back, soothing her all over again. She didn’t cry, but she did tremble a little bit. It took ages for her to settle, until at last, I felt her body becoming heavy, and her breathing even out.
I pulled back a little, just to double check.
She was asleep.
Thank God. A good night’s rest on top of all that, and then tomorrow we could tackle this issue head on. Deal with Pete once and for all.
I settled in beside Trudie and tried not to think too hard about how right it felt, how much I wanted her to be in my arms like this every night, and let myself fall asleep.
29
Trudie
I woke up feeling so warm and safe, at first I didn’t know what to do with myself. I felt like it had to be a dream of some kind. I had woken up like this before, with Laird while we were in Ireland together, but all that was over. Clearly after all of the stress and panic from yesterday my brain was freaking out on me a little, giving me a dream of what I so badly wanted.
Then the rest of yesterday caught up with me, and I realized that while it might be painful, it was definitely not a dream. I was really here, with Laird, in his bed. He was still asleep, his face peaceful, his arms around me like he hadn’t moved all night. It made my heart ache.
I snuggled in closer to him. Soon I would have to get up and actually face the day, face what was going on in my life. I would have to figure out how Pete had found me and find a new place to stay—and a new place to work, because while Red was prepared, I couldn’t put him in a bad position. If Pete had found the co-op, he’d probably found out where I worked. I would have to change everything. Probably move to a whole new city. If that would even work. Maybe with Laird’s money, this time it would. Who knew.
And oh, God, his parents! His parents were coming! I had completely forgotten about that. We had to somehow keep up the charade while all of this was going on, or I had to confess the truth with Laird and his parents would be so disappointed and angry. I didn’t want to do that to them. I didn’t want to hurt them like that. What was I going to do? No matter how we did this, it was a mess.
I tucked my face into Laird’s chest and pretended that I didn’t have to move, ever, that this was real, that I got to do this every morning. I love you, I thought, as hard and fiercely as I could. Who knew how much more time I would have with him? What was the point of hiding it now when we’d have to say goodbye? I love you, I love you, you sweet, kind, wonderful man. I love you.
It couldn’t last forever, of course. I felt Laird inhale deeply and shift, a sign that he was waking up and starting to become aware of his surroundings. I bit my lip, tried to be grateful for what time I had gotten, and watched him as he woke up.
Laird smiled softly down at me, his eyes shining, like there was no place he’d rather be and nothing he’d rather see first thing in the morning. I didn’t dare let myself hope that was all real. He was just sleep-addled, and I was a hopeless fool in love.
“Let’s get breakfast,” he said quietly, when I started to open my mouth. “And then we’ll come up with a game plan.”
Of course he called it a game plan. He’d been spending a bit too much time with Liam, clearly. I nodded, and we got up. I made myself put on some proper clothes, because I was going to have to face this properly, like an adult, and that didn’t involve lounging around in pajamas like it was going to be a relaxing day.
In fact, I was supposed to… oh no!
I sat down heavily at the kitchen table. I had work today. I needed to call Red… I couldn’t possibly come in, not if Pete was lurking around. If he’d found the co-op then he’d probably found Buzz, too. It was easier to find me there, rather than at the place where I mostly just slept and showered, especially after I’d been spending so much time away from the co-op and with Laird.
Something of my thoughts must’ve shown on my face, because Laird gave me a questioning look.
“I have to quit my job,” I explained. “I can’t be there, not with Pete around. I have to move, preferably, but I definitely can’t be there anymore.”
Laird frowned. “You’re not going to leave the coffee shop. You’re not going to go anywhere. Not unless you genuinely want to. If you want to go, then that’s one thing. But you can’t let this asshole force you out of your life, not if it’s a life that you enjoy. I won’t let him have that kind of power over you anymore.”
“It’s sweet of you to say that, but we have to be realistic.”
“I am being realistic.” Laird set some eggs and toast down in front of me, then took a seat across from me, sipping his coffee. “Trudie, I don’t know if you’ve realized this yet, but you have fifty thousand dollars in your account now. And I’ve got plenty more where that came from, and a bloody good team of lawyers on top of that. And if my lawyers weren’t good enough, you can bet that Liam’s lawyers would be even better, he’s got to have the best as a sports player, it’s a high-stakes world. We can take him if he tries anything.”
“He’s violent, Laird,” I blurted out, before I could stop myself. Fear felt like it had a fist around my throat, around my heart. “What will it matter if I have lawyers or a restraining order if he attacks me?”
“He won’t,” Laird assured me. “You don’t have to worry. I’ll alert security and you can stay here with me. We’ll file a report with the police. We’ll make it so hard for him to get to you, he’ll clear off. That’s what these bastards do is go after easy targets. He feels possessive of you right now and he thinks that he can control you. He’s about to find out that he can’t. The moment he does anything, we’re going to get him arrested, and I’ll pull whatever strings I have to, to make sure that it sticks and he’s locked up.”
I’d been alone for so long, struggling with this, it was hard to imagine that there was actually someone on my side, that I was no longer alone—and that this person had the resources to help me make sure that Pete paid for what he did, or at the very least never went near me again.
“I’m surprised you’re not offering to find him and beat him up,” I said, trying to stifle the overwhelming tsunami of love I was feeling in that moment. It felt like I had never really known what it was like to be in love until now, staring at Laird as he planned to go above and beyond to make sure that I was safe.
“Arresting him and throwing lawyers at him does feel bloody anticlimactic,” Laird admitted. “But if I just fucked him up with my fists, yeah, he’d be scared and go running. But then he’d be free to go and do this to some other poor woman. Abusers never just do it the once, they do it again and again. I wouldn’t be surprised if there
was someone else before you that he’d done this to, even if it never got as bad as it did with you. He’s a complete bastard and bastards need to go where they belong.”
God, he was so hot like this. You would think that it would be him doing something like lifting weights, or wearing a really nice suit, or any other typical thing that would make me mentally drool over him. But no, it was this. It was Laird just being his protective, caring, sweet, intelligent self. This was how Laird took care of things, this was obviously how he built his business and was able to own a company and be the man that he was today—by being smart, and calculating, and knowing that attacking with his fists and his temper wasn’t always the best way to go.
As if I’d needed any more confirmation that he wasn’t like Pete. That this was someone who could hold in his temper and who knew when anger wasn’t useful. That this was someone who would never use his size or his personality or anything else about himself to hurt me.
I loved him so much it felt like I was drowning, but I didn’t want to come up for air. Even if he didn’t love me back. I would still happily sink under the water.
“You really don’t have to do all of this,” I pointed out. “You said that I have fifty thousand dollars now, and you’re right. I do. And I can go to the police, and I can handle this. This is my mess.” I paused when I saw the dark look on Laird’s face—not an angry look that scared me, more like a frustrated one. “Not that this is my fault.” Laird’s face cleared up and he looked satisfied at that. “But that… it’s something from my life, not yours. You don’t have to take on my problems.”
“I know I don’t,” Laird acknowledged. “But I want to. I want to take care of you, with this and with… with other things.” Oddly enough, he looked frustrated again. But not, I didn’t think, with me. More like with himself.
He got our plates and started to wash them in the sink, and I watched in confusion. I felt like I was waiting for something, holding my breath—for what, I didn’t know, but definitely something.
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