“To Leslie,” the crowd said in unison.
I smiled gracefully and thanked everyone for the well wishes before I stood up on my tippy toes and kissed my dad on the cheek. “Thanks, Daddy,” I whispered. My mother placed her hands on my shoulders in a kind embrace. In that moment we looked like the perfect family.
When the people returned to their previous conversations, I slipped out the back door. By the looks of things, my mother was four champagne glasses in and would be oblivious. I ran across the grass that joined my yard with Ethan's, but all the lights were out inside. I sprinted around the front of the house and found that door also locked. Panic rose throughout my body.
Ignoring everything that warned me to run back to my house and ask Charlie, I tried the side garage door. The hair on the back of my neck rose as I held the door handle. I hadn't been in this garage in years. I could vividly recall the last time I was here—when Jerry beat Joey and told his boys to shove him inside his car. Desperate to find Ethan, I pushed through my fears and turned the knob.
The scent of oil and gasoline wafted through the air, punching me in the face. It was a smell I could never forget. It was a scent that was coiled around fear. Luckily, Jerry's car was nowhere in sight. I exhaled the breath that was lodged in my chest and jogged across the cement floor. I was halfway across the double car garage when his words stopped me dead in my tracks.
“He's not here.” Jerry's voice was low, but it caused every fiber in my body to shake with fear.
Nervously, I brushed my hair behind my ears and looked him in the eyes. His expression darkened with an unreadable emotion. “Oh,” I stammered. “Okay, then.” I took slow steps backwards toward the side door, my eyes locked on his like the innocent prey waiting for the evil monster to strike.
“You don't have to rush out of here so soon,” he said, and began to walk toward me.
Instantly, my pulse beat erratically at the threat in his deep voice. I knew what this man was capable of. I knew what he did for a living. Unable to move, my feet felt as if they were stuck in quicksand. My fear had me paralyzed. My breathing grew irregular and my rapid heartbeat hummed in my ear.
“You have grown into a beautiful woman,” Jerry said. His face was so close to mine I could smell the gin on his breath.
I swallowed back the contents of my stomach threatening to come up, and took a deep breath. “I should really get going.” I managed to move a step back, but I couldn’t get away fast enough.
His hands laced around my wrists. “You know, I never got a real good look at you.” Panic rioted within me. “But I see now why Ethan wants to move all the way to New York. Is your pussy as pretty as your face?"
His inappropriate remark made my cheeks heat and tears formed in my eyes as panic set in. “Let me go. Please.” I tried to tug my wrists away from him but it was no use. Jerry was much stronger than I was.
“Shh.” He brought his face down to my neck. “The more you fight, the more it's going to hurt.”
Bile rose in my throat and it felt like I couldn’t breathe. “Help!” I screamed. Someone, please help me!”
“You hear that?” Jerry said in a calm, icy voice, which only intensified my fear. “Your mother hired a band, which means you can scream as much as you want. No one will hear you.”
Tears swelled in my eyes. I shook my head and did the one thing I remembered from the self-defense course we took in high school. With everything I had in me I lifted my knee and aimed straight for his nuts. But Jerry was faster than I was. He dashed out of the way and grabbed me by my arms. Shoving me against the wall, I saw the devil in his eyes.
“You fucking bitch.”
My head slammed against the concrete wall, and I whimpered from the sharp pain. His mouth pressed on mine. My nails scraped his skin repeatedly as I struggled to get away, but it did nothing to faze him. I was pinned between a horrific monster and a solid-stone wall.
I screamed, I begged, and my arms grew weaker with each passing second.
Jerry moved to unzip his pants and sheer black fright swept through me.
“Please don’t,” I cried. “Please don't do this to me!” His calloused hand slid up my thigh just as I bellowed out my last scream.
"You son of a bitch!” was all I heard before Jerry was yanked off my body.
I fell to my knees, scraping them on the concrete floor. As I blinked away the tears, I saw Ethan swinging at Jerry. His fist collided with his jaw, but Jerry threw a punch that tossed Ethan to the ground.
"Ethan!"
Jerry kicked him in the gut before he turned toward me. I watched as he wiped blood from the corner of his lip.
“Run!" Ethan shouted in agony. His hands were wrapped around his stomach. I scurried to my feet and dashed for the door, my legs shaking with each step I took.
"Oh, no you don’t." Jerry's fingers coiled around my hair and tugged me back.
"Let her go!" Ethan shouted.
Jerry released my hair and I fell to the ground. Gasping for air, I looked back and watched Jerry wobble toward the massive tool shelf. Bright crimson blood dripped from the back of his head. My gaze moved from Jerry to Ethan, and fresh tears pooled in my eyes when I saw the damage his father had done to his face. One eye was shut and bruising. His lip was split in half. Then my gaze moved to the bloody crowbar Ethan held in his hand. The crowbar he used to hit Jerry’s skull.
I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. In that moment, the air in the garage vanished. Ethan tried to run for me; he tried to rescue me, but there was no point. There was no noise, only excruciating pain. It was then I glanced down at my leg and realized the source of the numbing pain. The tool shelf had fallen on me. Jerry had pulled it down and was lying trapped underneath it.
Ethan dropped to his knees next to me. Without saying a word, we both knew this had broken us. I bit back a sob as the world around me fell dark.
Our dreams of escaping this town were dead.
18
PRESENT
Gasping for air, I wake up.
My hands rush to my chest and I try to calm my racing heart. “It's in the past . . . It’s in the past,” I reassure myself. The argument with my mother, along with the night I spent with Ethan must have triggered the memory I had buried so deep in my brain.
I roll off the bed and march down to the kitchen for a glass of water. I spent most of the afternoon sleeping. Locating my purse on the kitchen counter, I pull out my phone.
Ethan: Are you sure I can't persuade you to come over tonight?
My fingers hover over the keypad, but instead, I shake my head and lock the screen. I don't want to talk to him. Not when the wounds feel so fresh.
I walk over to the medicine cabinet and debate taking one of my mother’s Ambien. I know they will help me sleep; drown out the voices and fears that linger deep inside. Holding the bottle, I weigh my options, and then place them back in the cabinet. I need to face my demons head on. I can’t always turn to tequila when I'm down, and turning to sleep medication will just open a whole new can of worms.
My hands rest on the kitchen counter and I take a few calming breaths to help the anxiety attack that is forming deep in my chest. I know what I can do to fix this. Hating this part of me, the part that needs to run to feel safe, I shake the thoughts out of my mind and close the cabinet door shut before I run up the stairs. I crawl back into bed and stare at the stars that are glued to my ceiling. I can’t be the same Leslie as always. I need to learn to grow. If being back here has taught me anything, it’s that time does make us grow. I now, somewhat, have a normal relationship with my mother, Ethan and I are happy together. Wanting to run because of a bad nightmare is stepping backward, not forward. I toss on the bed and roll over until my eyes land on the window. I can’t run away. It’s time to plant my feet and face my demons.
I'm in the studio late Monday night with my beginner’s ballet class. With their flats on and their hair pulled back in a bun, we practice plies and first position.
My mind is everywhere but where it should be. Though I forced myself to stay and not run, my mind keeps imagining the possibility of leaving it all behind.
When I broke my ankle, Ethan was nowhere in sight and I couldn’t take the pain of letting everyone down. So I ran. When Harry left for London, I couldn’t take the burden of not being good enough again, so I ran to Chicago.
Running is what I do, and right now all I want to do is run away from this place again. Run away from Ethan. The simple memory of what happened between us makes me want to rip my skin off and run. It’s a constant battle that, at times, I feel I’m losing.
I glance up at the clock and notice the class has run five minutes over. “Okay, girls, that’s it for tonight. Remember to practice your plies at home.”
I'm saying my good-byes to the parents when Ethan walks in through the studio door. Instantly, my heart flutters; we both know why he’s here. I’ve been dodging his calls lately. Not because I don’t want to see him, but because I know he can see right through me. He leans against the wall and waits until I'm finished. When the last parent and student are out the door, he walks toward me. His eyes are kind, and his hands are tucked away in his leather jacket.
“Hey,” I say nervously. His eyes are compelling and magnetic.
He scoops me into his arms and kisses me tenderly. When he pulls away, I'm breathless. “What is it, Freckles?” he says, looking deep into my eyes for some form of answer. His bright green irises sparkle at me, and instantly, none of my problems seem to matter. He has always been able to do that.
“Nothing,” I lie. I don’t want to ruin the moment, and I don’t want to admit that I want to leave.
“You've always been a bad liar.” His mouth quirks with humor.
“I'm not lying. I've just been busy.” I shrug and a grin grows on my face.
Ethan places me on the ground and pulls me into his arms. Slowly, he places a finger under my chin and makes me look up at him. “Remember our freshman year? We were let out of school early because the heat was unbearable, and we walked over to the creek. I decided we should go swimming, and you threw a fit because you had your period and didn't want to tell me that's what was going on. You kept saying nothing. And when I wouldn’t give up, you picked a fight with me, called me a dumb boy and ran home.”
I pout my lips as I remember the day clearly.
“Well, that is the exact same face you have on right now. So, why don't you tell me what's really bothering you.”
"My mother,” I say as I lean my body on his and rest my head on his chest. "She was up when you dropped me off and we had an argument. It brought up some bad memories."
"Does this argument entail how I ruined everything for you?"
"As a matter of fact, yes." I glance up at Ethan. His green eyes are captivating and the scruff around his chin makes me reach up and run my fingers across it.
"Do you want me to talk to her?"
I shake my head. There isn't anything anyone can say. "It's the past. And like everything else, this too shall pass."
"That still doesn't explain why you were avoiding me."
I sigh and bury my face into his chest. "You make it hard to think straight. So much has happened between us. It’s easier to run away."
"I'm not letting you run anymore,” he says into the crook of my neck before he wraps his hands around my waist and lifts me off the ground again. I squeal and wrap my arms around his neck. For a moment we stare into each other's eyes. If we could only live in this bubble. “No matter how hard you try, I’m not letting you run away. Whatever it is, we will get through this. Together.”
His lips capture mine in a kiss, tender at first, nibbling on my lower lip before deepening it. My legs tighten around his hips as I let myself mold into him. Ethan's hands are on my back before moving to the nape of my neck. Holding me close, he walks into the office and kicks the door closed behind him. He sits me on top of the desk and takes a step back. "You know, for as long as I can remember, I've wanted to have sex in this office."
"Really?" Butterflies flap their wings in my belly nervously. I lean back and rest my hands behind me.
"Yes." He takes a step forward. "I think it has to do with the way this thing is skin tight." He runs his hands up my leotard.
"It's supposed to be tight so you can see the movements."
"All I see is the way it hugs your body,” Ethan whispers, pulling a strap down from my shoulder. His lips follow along the nylon fabric until my breast is exposed. I whimper when his tongue swirls around my nipple. Hearing me, Ethan yanks down the other strap and cups my breasts.
Unable to take the torture of his lips on my nipples, I reach for his jeans, but he pulls away from my bare skin and grabs my hands. Slowly he shakes his head, and a devilish grin grows on his face. "Oh, no you don’t. I'm going to make sure you think twice the next time you consider running away from me.” His voice is low and purposely seductive. "Lie back, Freckles. I've been dying to do this for a long time."
I press my back against the cool wood furniture and let Ethan undress me. Exposing myself, I watch as his eyes devour me. Then his hands. And finally, his mouth. Ethan kisses up my legs and inner thighs. When his breath reaches my core, I'm aching.
One lick.
One kiss.
Ever so slowly he teases, bringing me to the edge. His tongue does things to me I have never felt before. Arching my back, I moan out his name.
"Ethan . . . please,” I beg.
He grunts in pleasure but continues his slowly-paced licks. Without an ounce of doubt, I give in to him. I give him all of me. He is right there, riding the wave of my orgasm with his tongue. When the trembles cease and I can breathe again, I sit up and lean on my elbows.
"That was—”
"Everything." He wipes the corner of his mouth.
"Can I return the favor?"
Ethan shakes his head and proceeds to unzip his pants. "Another time, Freckles. I need you. Now,” he demands. The devil is in his eyes, which only entices me to please him.
"How do you want me?" I ask, hoping my eyes match the carnal want in his.
"Turn around."
I bite my lower lip and hop off the desk. Bending over in front of him, I wait in anticipation. He groans with pleasure as he sinks into me. It's all consuming, all pleasing. I lay my head on the cool wood and enjoy his thrusts. He is tender at first. Slow and steady, and he savors every second, but when my body tightens around him and I beg him to give me more, he does.
Ethan doesn’t stop until we are both sated and gasping for air.
One month later
It all seems perfect. Everything seems right in the world and it feels as if nothing ever changed.
We are in love all over again. And this time, I can see a forever for us.
The nights I work late at the studio, he’s there to walk me to my car. He takes me out to dinner one night during the week, and we spend countless hours on the phone or making love to each other. We’re doing all the things we never got to do, and just like that my life is somewhat normal again. The need to run away is gone.
Darlene and I haven’t fought since my walk of shame. She knows Ethan and I are back together and doesn’t question it. She spends her days with my dad, who is finally getting better, though I have yet to find the courage to see him. Like I said, everything seems right in the world.
But like so many moons ago, I can’t help but feel the world is about to be ripped out from under me one more time.
19
PRESENT
Monday morning, I wake up to my mother coughing. This isn’t a regular dry cough, but more of a hacking-up-a-lung type of cough. Stumbling out of bed, I walk to her room to check on her.
“Ma?" I tap on the door, but when she doesn't respond, I push it open. The sun hasn't yet risen on the horizon so I turn on her nightstand light. "Mom, are you okay?"
My mother looks over at me and shakes her head. The bags under her eyes and her red, puffy nose are a cl
ear indication of how she feels. I sit on the edge of the bed and place my hand on her head. "You're burning up."
"I think it's the flu,” she mutters before coughing again.
"I'll go get you some medicine and bring you some toast with orange juice." I leave her bedroom and rush downstairs. Digging through the medicine cabinet, I locate a cold and flu medication.
With a tray in hand, I walk back into her room and place the tray on her bed. “This should make you feel better.” I hand her the pill and OJ.
“Your father is expecting me today,” she says before popping a pill into her mouth.
I know what she’s hinting at. I haven't seen my father since that night at the hospital. She hasn’t pushed the issue, and I know it's because I've been running the studio for her.
“It'll make him happy to see you.” She takes a bite of toast and winces as she tries to swallow.
I sigh, knowing there’s no way out of this. “I'll go.” I force a soft smile onto my face. “Has he finished the last book I sent him?” My mother nods and smiles, and though it's weak, I know she's pleased I'm finally facing my fears.
I grip the steering wheel as I drive toward the rehabilitation center. The school traffic has subsided, making the commute easy. I pull into the parking spot and check myself one last time in the mirror before I get out of the car. Each step feels harder than the last as memories come crashing down on me. Unable to take another step forward, I run back to the car.
Just a few more minutes, I tell myself. Just a few more minutes to forget this awful place. Locking myself back in the car, I rest my head on the steering wheel to calm my breaths.
The memories don’t just haunt me.
They consume me.
Broken Dreams (Fatal Series Book 3) Page 14