by Raine Miller
He carefully stubbed out the cigarette he’d been smoking, using the ashtray next to the lounger. He folded his hands in his lap and stared out at the city. He never looked at me once as he started to speak in a soft voice.
“I smoke them because all my guards had cloves. Hand-rolleds of spiced tobacco that smelled so fucking good I nearly lost my mind. I craved to have one. I nearly went insane with craving them.”
I froze in the chilled night air, listening to Ethan, my heart breaking with each word he gave me.
“Then . . . on—on th-the day they were going to execute me, a miracle happened . . . and I was spared. I lived. Their wicked blade did not find my neck.” His voice cracked.
“Blade?” I had an idea where this was going, but was afraid to even think about what Ethan might be trying to explain to me.
“Yeah. They were going to videotape my beheading and show it all over the world,” he spoke so softly but the words were brutally loud.
Jesus Christ! No wonder he had nightmares. I couldn’t even imagine what he’d endured physically as they tortured him, but the emotional torture of believing what they would do to him must have been worse. I couldn’t hold back the gasp that escaped, wanting so badly to hold him, but he continued speaking.
“You want to know what the first thing was that I asked for?”
“Tell me.”
“I walked out of my prison, not completely sure if I was really alive, or dead in hell. A U.S. marine got to me, shocked I’d walked out of the rubble still breathing. He asked me if I was okay. I told him I wanted a clove cigarette.”
“Oh, baby . . .”
“I was alive, you see. I lived and was finally able to smoke one of those lovely clove hand-rolleds I’d gone mad over for weeks. I smoke them now . . . because . . . I guess it helps me to know I’m really alive that way.” He swallowed hard. “It’s such a load of shit . . .”
“Oh, Ethan . . .” I moved up from the lounger and over to put my arms around him but he held me back.
“No,” he said, holding his hand up to keep me at a distance. He seemed so very distant from me right now—unreachable. I wanted to cry, but knew that would just make it harder on him, and I didn’t want to cause him any more stress than he already had.
“Go back inside, Brynne. I don’t want you out here with me right now. It’s bad for you. I’m not . . . good . . . to be around. I need to be alone.”
“You’re sending me away?”
He slowly lit up another clove, the flame of his lighter glowing bright as the tobacco ignited. “Just go back to bed, baby. I love you, but I need some time by myself right now.”
I felt something from him. I couldn’t believe it, but I could swear I was reading him correctly. Ethan was terrified of doing something to harm me somehow and that was the reason he asked me to leave him alone.
I granted Ethan his wish even though it broke my heart to do it.
21
♠ I caressed Brynne’s photograph in its frame on my desk. The one I’d taken of her with my mobile when she showed me Lady Percival for the first time at the Rothvale. She looked so happy and beautiful. Last night she wasn’t happy. No, I’d scared her and then made things worse by sending her away when she tried to reach out to me.
. . . God in heaven, I fucked up with her. I tried to imagine switching places. What if it had been she who had sent me away after a nightmare and refused my comfort? I’ve been on the receiving end of that before, and it sucked. It had felt awful, just like I’d made her feel.
Still, I had been afraid last night of what I might do to her if she touched me any more than she did. The other times I woke up from one of those nightmares? Yeah . . . not nice. I’d gone off on fucking tangents—literally. Using sex, and Brynne, to level me out to a place where I could come back down from that horrible place I’d found myself in my dreams. She didn’t understand how much I was walking the razor’s edge in those moments. I didn’t trust myself with her. What if I hurt her or went too far with the sex? She was pregnant and vulnerable now. I just couldn’t take the risk of what I might do.
It had been the hardest thing to send her back inside last night when she wanted to stay with me and listen to my story. She’d tried to hold me, but I’d kept her back. I hadn’t even looked at her face, because if I’d done it I would have caved. I had no willpower when it came to Brynne.
To keep myself from taking her after I came back inside, I’d slept the remainder of the night on the couch. I didn’t trust myself to get back into bed with her. All it would take was her scent up my nose and the sound of her breathing next to me and I would’ve been on her and buried deep, trying to get lost inside her. Brynne was my heaven. I’d seek out my heaven endlessly. I knew myself well.
She was right, though. About so many things, but about last night’s fuckup she was completely right. I needed some help. There were places I could go for it. Lots of soldiers came home from the war with issues and baggage. I was just another in a long fucking line of others before me. I got that. I didn’t want to face the demons, but I knew I needed to. More important priorities were in the canvas that was my life. I had Brynne now. We had a child on the way. Neither needed me having psycho dreams and terrorizing their peaceful nights.
I had to ask myself why. Why was I suddenly back to that time so vividly in my subconscious? Could Brynne’s situation be triggering the long-shelved memories of my time as prisoner and bringing them back to life? Fucking hell . . . It was a painful thought, but probably spot-on accurate.
I’d make it up to her tonight. Flowers, dinner, romance—complete honesty about the hell I’d been in and how I’d made it out. She deserved to know everything, and was strong enough to handle it. The bonus was having her support on some of the emotional burden. This was one of the aspects of a deep relationship. She shared her stuff with me. Why wasn’t I doing the same? Because you are a thoughtless arsehole a lot of the time and you need to work on that.
Brynne hated when I shielded her from things. I’d learned firsthand that she was incredibly strong, with the will to fight ingrained deeply inside her. She was no coward, and wouldn’t go down without giving it her all. My girl faced her fears head on. I should take her example and do the same. I accepted the time had come for me to seek out some professional help and to trust someone else with the burden of my demons. Brynne would be there to help me through it, and I couldn’t be in better hands than hers.
Brynne would also serve my arse to me on a silver platter and I should be prepared for that when I got home. She would never let this issue go, regardless. I had to grin at the thought of her reaction to me tonight. She’d looked gorgeous as usual with her eyes blazing, hands on her hips, battle-ready and full of fire. I looked forward to seeing the change in her when I came in bearing gifts and humbled, ready to finally share with her the darkest demons inhabiting the unmentionable places in my soul. And how she might reward me for all that, afterward . . .
I had some phone calls to make and plans to be put into motion. Time was speeding by at a reckless clip and there was no time for sitting around woolgathering over regrets that couldn’t be remedied. I sent Brynne a text first: I love u. Sorry 4 last nite. xx I’m going 2 fix things ok?
I dialed my sister in Somerset and waited for the call to connect.
“Brother, you have impeccable timing. I just had a visit from Mr. Simms, and he’s got some papers for you that need signatures.”
“That is very welcome news then. Let me have Frances get you an overnight slip and we’ll do it that way.”
“Sure. I do think it’s the most marvelous idea, E.”
I grinned in my seat. “I do too. After having a look, do you think it’s possible in such a short time?”
“Well, it’ll be close, but I think it can be done—not everything, mind you, but for your purposes, yes.”
“Goo
d. I mean, I trust you implicitly, Han. Just do your best.”
“When can you come here? At some point you need to see it with your own eyes.”
“Right. I won’t be able to manage anything until the closing ceremonies, but the moment that’s all behind me I’ll slip in a quick trip . . . somehow.”
♦ ♦ ♦
I kissed Benny on the cheek and hugged him tight. Then I went right back to looking at the image proofs on the screen. “Oh my god. I love them all, Ben. I can’t choose.”
He laughed softly. “He’ll think they’re beautiful, Bree. They are. They’re breathtaking.”
“Thank you so much for doing this for me on the spur of the moment. The idea just came to me after . . . something that happened . . . and I wanted to do these pictures for Ethan. Nobody will ever see them but us.” I touched his cheek. “Thank you for making that possible, my dear, amazing friend.”
Ben smiled down at me with such kindness—I could tell he was touched I had asked him to take special pictures of me. Very special pictures indeed. Just me and my wedding veil. And only ever for Ethan’s eyes to see.
Ethan . . . yeah. We had yet to talk about last night. He’d never come back to bed and when I woke up this morning he was already gone from the flat. That bullshit wasn’t going to fly with me tonight, though. I would be sitting him down when he arrived home and he would talk to me—or else.
Or else what? I didn’t have all the answers, but I’d think of something. He was in bad shape emotionally with those nightmares and I had absolutely no intention of allowing him to continue suffering without some professional help to deal with them. And the part he had shared with me last night just shredded my heart into pieces. His torturers were going to behead him and taunted him with the fact. I couldn’t imagine how he had endured it all and wasn’t stark raving mad. It made me want to wrap my arms around him and shower him in my love. Ethan was going to get it from me whether he wanted it or not, I vowed.
“Hey, is everything all right with you two? You look a little worried there, luv.”
I nodded and began folding up my veil carefully and repacking it. “We are fine. Just some relationship stuff that needs to be aired out.” I put my hands on my hips. “But I’ve got it covered. Men can be so damn stubborn, you know?”
Ben laughed at me. “Riiiiight. Just the men. You’re talking to the right guy on that topic, Bree. I agree with you completely.” Ben winked at me and packed up his equipment. “Come on, beautiful girl, let me get you back home before Blackstone starts looking for you, thinking you’ve gone on the lam. I take it this is a surprise and he has no idea you’re with me, doing this.”
“Nope. No idea whatsoever. This was a spur-of-the-moment decision and I’ve kept my phone turned off all morning so he couldn’t track me with GPS. I’ll turn it back on when I get home and he’ll see that I’m safe and sound, and be none the wiser.”
Ben shook his head at me and looked up at the ceiling.
“You’re a wicked sneak and I don’t have any idea what you are talking about.”
I snorted at Ben.
“I’m dead serious, Bree. Don’t involve me in your plans to deceive your man. I want to live to see thirty, thank you.”
“Don’t worry so much,” I teased as we went out to his car, “it’s giving you frown lines.”
Ben frowned at me then caught himself, smoothing out his forehead and trying to be sly about it. Ben was hilarious a lot of the time, and it felt good to laugh.
Annabelle was at the flat when Ben dropped me at the door. He had to head off for another appointment, but we made plans for dinner on the weekend. I had a favor I wanted to ask of him and had even already discussed the idea with Ethan, but I wanted Ethan and I to ask him together. No rushing a good thing, and this was something really important to me.
Annabelle interrupted my thoughts with her usual greeting. “Hello, missus.”
“Oh, hi, Annabelle. Any messages while I was out?” I asked carefully, really hoping that Ethan had not been frantically looking for me and getting everyone upset.
“No, missus. It’s been a very quiet day. The mail arrived for you and some packages.”
“Oh, good. I hope it’s the sample wedding favors.” I wished she would call me Brynne, but Annabelle was very old-school in her ways and it seemed that anything more familiar than “missus” was out of the question. Still, I liked her a lot. Annabelle came here twice a week, on Mondays and Thursdays, mostly to clean and do the laundry. She cooked for us, but only on those days. She used to make things and freeze them for Ethan to heat up whenever he made it home, but I stopped that practice when I moved in.
Ethan had me to take care of him now on the other days of the week, and cooking was something I enjoyed.
This had caused a bit of a flare from Annabelle at first, mostly because she had been his housekeeper for five years and liked things to be very organized and planned out. Since my arrival, though, we’d all had to get comfortable with each other and figure out our various roles and routines. We fixed it by having her do the cooking only on the Mondays and Thursdays she worked, and planned around her schedule.
“I set them on the desk in the office as usual for you.”
“Thanks, Annabelle, I’ll open them later.” I peered around her into the kitchen, surprised there didn’t seem to be anything started for dinner. Annabelle always had something nice simmering or baking on her days.
“Miss Frances called and said Mr. Blackstone would be taking you out for dinner this evening.” Annabelle could read minds too it seemed.
“Oh, is that right?” I raised a brow. “I love how he has Frances deliver that information.”
“Yes, missus.” Annabelle smiled at me.
“Well, I should have a shower, then, and start getting ready,” I said, checking my watch.
“Oh, I nearly forgot to tell you before I go, the aquarium service will be coming at four o’clock for the fish tank. Mr. Blackstone scheduled it a few weeks ago and made sure it fell on one of my days. They called to confirm, but I’ve an appointment this afternoon, and will have to leave early,” she barely paused to take a breath, “but you needn’t worry, missus, I’ve let Mr. Len know the time and he will let them into Mr. Blackstone’s office once they arrive.”
“Thank you, Annabelle. I’m sure Simba will be thrilled.”
She laughed at my comment and shook her head. “That fish is something else, he is.”
♦ ♦ ♦
The shower felt good, and I was glad Ethan had plans for me this evening. It meant he was trying to make amends for last night and I really hoped he would finally be opening up to me about his past. It was time for me to know. And honestly it felt really nice to be the one to take care of him for a change. Our whole relationship had been built on Ethan protecting me, taking care of me, and recently with the pregnancy bomb, ready to marry me. I’d like to be the one driving the boat once in a while, but to do that he had to allow me to. I was glad that finally seemed about to happen. Tonight I’d get to be his strength.
As I was blow-drying my hair I realized I’d forgotten to turn on my phone when I returned home. Ethan would have something to say about that, I was sure. Shit. I hated being scolded by him, but reasoned that if he was really panicked about me, he would call Len and talk to him. Len would confirm where I was. I just hoped Len wouldn’t also mention the part about Ben taking me away and dropping me off back home. I wanted the photographs to be a complete surprise. They were my wedding gift to Ethan.
I hurried to finish so I could go down and find my phone to check for messages, really hoping that Ethan had been so busy with the event venues he hadn’t noticed my absence. Fat chance of that happening. He notices everything.
I got my purse off the kitchen counter and dug out my phone, but when I tried to turn it on, the battery was totally dead. It needed a cha
rge in order to even check my messages.
The charger cords for everything were in Ethan’s office. I started for the hall and remembered the aquarium service appointment. They were probably already set up and working by now. I checked the clock on the microwave; it read 4:38. Yep, they were here. I decided to bust in on them anyway. I needed my phone.
I knocked before I went in. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need my phone charger.”
The guy bent over the tank had his hands full with tubing and buckets. He gave me a nod from the back with a “yeah” and kept on doing his thing. He didn’t seem to mind me, so after I plugged in my phone and turned it on I started to look through the mail on the desk.
I was opening the first box when arms slammed around me and pinned me from behind.
“What the hell—” My speech was stopped by a hand over my mouth.
“Brynne . . . I’ve waited so long for this moment. So long . . .” he murmured in a voice that sounded familiar but I couldn’t place it.
My mind was racing; whoever this person was, they’d come to kill me. My time was at an end. I would die tonight and Ethan would find my body. We wouldn’t have a life together after all. Our baby wouldn’t be born in February, because killing me would kill our baby too. There wouldn’t be a wedding at Hallborough, and I’d never give Ethan my gift of the photos . . .
I would have begged for my life if I’d been able to. But there was no air for speaking, or crying, or even for breathing.
But knowing I was going to die wasn’t the worst part. The worst feeling in all of this was that I would never get to see Ethan again, or touch him, or tell him how much I loved him. My final moment with him had been last night when he sent me back inside so he could be alone. Oh, God, this would destroy my Ethan. He’d never forgive himself for this.
My captor kept me pinned up tight against his body and his mouth at my ear. I struggled, but my strength was waning. He gripped the back of my neck and squeezed, my nose and mouth covered, my lungs screaming for air, I felt a haze begin to surround me as my vision clouded. I was going down. It was finally happening. Everything Ethan had tried to prevent was going to happen anyway . . . and I couldn’t stop it.