The Ultimate Romance Box (6 Bestselling Romance Novels)
Page 10
At three-thirty, while Emily huddled in a corner of the living room with Trevor and Katy creating a Lego townhouse, Brad stormed in. Hurray, the cavalry’s here. She wanted to jump up and throw her arms around her guy; the one she knew would throw this awful woman out. But the dangerous glow that lit his face and could set a barn on fire had Emily hunkering down with the kids. Emily had no desire to be on the receiving end of his wrath.
“She in here?” He bellowed.
Katy practically leapt on Emily’s lap. Trevor never looked up.
Emily wanted him to be her knight in shining armor, to ask how she was. But he had tunnel vision. “She’s in your bedroom.”
“Take the kids out of the house, now.”
Well this wasn’t good. Brad stormed up the stairs, taking them two at a time, slamming his door so hard the living room windows rattled, shredding all hope of a peaceful and calm resolution. Emily leapt to her feet and bundled Trevor and Katy in their coats and hats. She felt an awful chill climb her back; the same kind when you know there’s an intruder. She jumped; Cliff lingered outside the door, watching her in an odd way. Emily yanked on her coat collar and shivered. He said nothing as he stuffed his hands in his grimy jeans pockets, rocked on his heels, and then strode away.
Brad was shouting so loud she’d swear the walls shook. Emily lifted Katy and grabbed Trevor’s hand, leading them outside to the barn to let them romp in a hay pile. More than an hour had passed, and Emily crept in the quiet front door. She expected, no hoped, Crystal would be gone and this nightmare ended. When she opened the hall closet, the door squeaked and so did the floor board upstairs. Stress and fury lingered in the air, vibrated in the walls, the floor and the furniture; the kind that did after a battle swept through.
Her heart pounded as she tiptoed around the corner, except it was darn impossible to keep two tired and hungry kids quiet. “Come sit down, how about Winnie the Pooh?” The opening credits flashed across the screen when Crystal sauntered down the stairs, her high-heeled boots clicking on the hard wood. She froze at the base of the stairs. Her mouth gaped at the kids perched on the edge of the leather sofa.
The woman was a menace. She crossed her arms over her chest in an obtrusive, rude gesture and appeared to challenge Emily. Well, Emily didn’t and wasn’t going to take the bait. What did the woman expect, for her and the kids to disappear? Newsflash, not going to happen. She strode into the kitchen to start dinner and doing her darnedest to ignore Crystal. It was unmistakable; the clickity, clack that followed. Emily opened the fridge and looked over her shoulder. She couldn’t help notice Crystal appeared like a duck out of water in this kitchen. She crossed her arms and surveyed the entire room with something resembling disdain. “Is that your kid?”
Emily squeezed her fists and closed the fridge. Focus on dinner. Forget she’s here. But that was damned impossible when you had hell’s fire burning a hole in your back. Emily yanked open the fridge again, her hands trembled as she lifted out the pot of chicken stew and set it on the stove to warm. She then pulled out salad fixings.
The woman didn’t move. And now she tapped her toe as if to remind Emily she expected an answer.
Emily let out a soft sigh. “Katy’s in with Trevor.” She didn’t look up, but stirred the stew, struggling against the urge to cry. While Emily made a salad and set the table, Crystal hovered in such a way Emily was forced to step around her. Crystal circled the table as if counting places. Hah, maybe she wanted to see if there was a place for her. Well there wasn’t, and until Brad told her otherwise, there wouldn’t be. What the hell was this woman still doing here anyway? Why hadn’t Brad thrown her out?
Emily had a hundred questions for Brad. She glanced at the clock. Her stomach ached with unease. Where was he? “Excuse me.” Emily uttered through a clenched jaw as she attempted to put the hot pot of stew on the table. Just then she heard the men stomp in.
Emily didn’t realize she was wringing her hands, nor the doomsday clock nipping at the back of her neck. No one said a word to Crystal. Brad paused, glanced at Crystal, and then moved to his spot at the table. Emily’s heart sank to her knees. Robotically, she shuffled to the living room, switched off the television.
“Katy, Trevor, dinner’s ready.” Emily nearly tripped over her feet; Crystal sat in Emily’s seat, next to Brad. Mac and Cliff sat stiffly and averted their eyes. Brad wouldn’t look at Emily. His face tinged pink and his cheek twitched. What the hell is going on? Emily swallowed the rock stuck in her throat and forced back the tears threatening to burn a hold in her head. She seated Trevor beside Crystal and Katy in her spot.
Emily, her face burning, grabbed another plate and cutlery from the cupboard, and stumbled to the backdoor for the extra chair. No one offered to help, and she blinked back those hateful tears. It wasn’t until she lifted the damn chair that she heard a chair scrape and footsteps. She knew who it was, but now she was too angry and hurt to be relieved.
“I’ll take the chair, Em. Let go.” She struggled to hold it together, but a cursed tear slipped out, then another.
“Why?”
He closed his eyes. Maybe that was easier than seeing how much he hurt her. “Let’s eat, Em. I just want to eat dinner in peace.”
What kind of response was that? Left speechless, she let go of the straight-back chair. She swiped away the tears and followed Brad. She scooted in her chair beside Katy and dished up. But instead of eating dinner, Emily knew she’d be eating her heart.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Trevor and Katy whined through dinner, they didn’t like the stew. They banged their spoons, Katy played with hers, Trevor screeched “no, no, no, stuff, ick,” flinging bits of celery and carrots onto the table.
Katy held out her arms to Emily. “Mama, up.” Emily scooped her onto her lap and attempted to feed her off her own plate, but she tightened her lips, nothing was getting in. She couldn’t blame her, Emily couldn’t swallow a single bite either. For some reason, tonight it tasted like sawdust, sticking in her throat and rumbling her queasy stomach.
Trevor started to make the “whop, whop” noise again, swaying in his chair. He held his gravy-filled spoon up and flung it back and forth, the splatters landing on Crystal’s perfectly tailored white blouse. Stress thickened the air. Awkward glances, angry glares. No wonder the kids were off, they were intuitive by nature. They may not know all the gritty details, but they knew their secure stable environment had been threatened.
Crystal dropped her fork with a clatter, “Get him out of here.” The abrupt dismissal was cruel. She had no compassion for her child. She wouldn’t even look at him; in fact, she leaned away, as if whatever he had, she might somehow catch.
The nasty woman pursed her full lips, which Emily was sure were botoxed, reached for a paper napkin and wiped at the splatter of gravy on her lacy shirtfront. How screwed-up were this woman’s priorities? Emily stared at Brad, positive he’d throw Crystal out now. Brad dropped his fork and wiped his gritty hands over his face. He pushed his plate away and leaned his forearms on the table. He ground his teeth. All feeling appeared to seep out of his hard brown eyes when he nodded toward Emily and flicked his hand for her to leave. Her heart sank down through her toes, burning as if the rug had been ripped from under her. And those dreaded tears burned out the corner of her eyes. Blinking ferociously, Emily picked up Katy and held Trevor’s hand. She took them both upstairs, into the bathroom and ran them a warm bath. After she cuddled with Katy and Trevor in his bed, she read to them, several stories to help them all unwind. She’d just started on Scaredy Squirrel, when she heard the quick light footsteps bounce up the stairs, and then the rustle of Brad’s door as it latched closed. Katy grabbed Emily’s shirt and popped her thumb in her mouth. Emily closed the book and let out a heavy sigh. “I think that’s enough for tonight.” She scooted Trevor under his covers took Katy to her room and tucked her in her bed.
Emily paused for a moment at the top of the stairs before swallowing her pride, and slipped do
wnstairs, tension building in the pit of her stomach with each step. What was she walking into? This unknown freaked her out and what she saw had her stumbling a few steps in the archway. The table had been cleared and Brad was putting the last remnants of dinner in the fridge.
He glanced over his shoulder, and gestured awkwardly to her full plate on the counter. “You didn’t get to eat. So I left your plate out.”
Emily gazed at the plate and wanted to scream at Brad. But nothing would come out of her mouth. So she dropped her eyes to the floor.
“Sorry, Em, today… I know this has to be hard for you.” He took a couple awkward steps toward her, before shoving both hands in his front pockets. Aww, here we go, the cowardly retreat. Her nose was running again and tears blurred her eyes, but she forced a smile to her shaky lips and used the back of her hand to wipe her nose.
Brad frowned.
“Thanks, I’m not really hungry.” Her voice caught, and if she didn’t do something to busy her hands, her mind, she was going to lose it. So she pulled out the plastic wrap from the middle drawer and neatly covered her plate. She walked around Brad, keeping her eyes down and set the plate in the fridge. Then, in an afterthought, she reminded herself no matter what, she wasn’t rude or vindictive. She let out a soft sigh and forced herself to lookup. “Thanks for cleaning up; I know it’s my job.”
Brad ran his hand down her arm. “Goodnight, Em, I’ll be bunking in the spare room in the back of the barn. So you know where I am, if you need anything.”
She leaned against the counter and just stared. She wanted to say something intelligent. Just what the hell was going on? But he looked away, and the stone wall she’d seen the first day slammed down around him. She wasn’t going to get anything out of him. This wasn’t fair to her or the kids. He had to know this. And maybe he did; he looked away and left without another word.
The floor creaked. Emily jumped. Crystal was just outside the kitchen, her icy blue eyes filled with a meanness Emily couldn’t rightly remember experiencing before. The woman was quite beautiful, except coldness tarnished this beauty queen to something of a cold bitch. What did Brad ever see in her? Had she been lurking in the shadows, spying?
Crystal crossed her arms over her full perky breasts. “We need to establish some ground rules. You, your kid and Trevor can start taking your meals earlier. And make sure the kids stay out of my way. I don’t know why Brad would have hired someone with a kid. And just so we’re clear, Trevor’s my child. I’ll decide what’s best for him. You’ll clear everything you do with Trevor through me first. Are we clear?” She made no attempt to soften her voice, dictating with a heavy hand.
Emily had finally had enough. “Now wait, I don’t work for you. I was hired by Brad. So until Brad tells me otherwise, I work for him, not you.”
Crystal took a cocky step forward, as she flicked her sleek blonde hair over her shoulder. She was taller than Emily by a few inches. She used her height to look down on her with a wicked smile that spiked a chill up Emily’s spine.
“Let me make myself clear. Brad’s my husband and you’ll stay away from him. As for this therapy you started; it stops right now. You can look after Trevor and keep him comfortable. But you’ll no longer expose him to that kind of cruelty. I’ve heard about people like you who’re so obsessive, you don’t see the long-term damage you’re doing emotionally. And you’re not doing that to my kid.”
Emily’s jaw dropped. Why hadn’t Brad talked to her? Instead he’d run out the door like a coward. “Crystal, I don’t know where you heard that. But that’s not true. Trevor has so much potential, how can you give up on him? I’ve researched this therapy, and he’s done so well since he started.” Crystal leaned in and bared her teeth. “I don’t give a shit what you’ve researched or brainwashed Brad with. Trevor’s my kid, not yours!”
The woman was a hyena and Emily wasn’t going to win. Crystal started to leave, but then swung back and stepped toward Emily. “Oh, and one more thing. Just so we’re clear. This is my home and I’m here to stay. So you are very wrong in your assumption that you answer only to Brad. You work for me and you answer to me. If I have any issues with you, I’ll make sure you’re bounced out of here so fast you won’t have time to pack your things.” The floor softened beneath her feet, and her heart squeezed so tight she thought it’d explode right out of her chest. The woman climbed the stairs and slammed Brad’s door. What followed was Katy’s pitiful wail, and Trevor’s shriek.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Over the next few days, the tension in the household became untenable. Brad became scarce. At first, Emily thought he was just busy. Then was sure it was to avoid Crystal. But not so; he avoided eye contact with Emily, and slipped out the door every time she entered the room.
Emily ate with the children an hour earlier. She stayed away from Crystal the best she could. But it was hard living in a tension-filled house that seemed like a powder keg about to erupt any moment. The kids became cranky and anxious. Trevor regressed, avoiding all eye contact, eating envelopes, paper and labels any chance he could. And when Crystal left her gold-plated pen on the kitchen table, Trevor decorated the living room wall with blue lines, circles and squiggles. Emily was in the kitchen making dinner while Katy and Trevor were supposed to be watching Arthur on TV. Crystal’s high pitch shriek had Emily dropping the lid on the floor and darting into the living room.
She slid to a stop just as Crystal snatched the pen from Trevor’s tiny hands. Emily covered both hands over her mouth. An entire wall would need repainted.
“How could you let him do this? You’re supposed to be watching him!” Crystal screamed, which launched Katy off the sofa to hide behind Emily. Trevor let out a high-pitch wail, as he wacked his head with his hand over and over.
Emily picked up Katy when she began to cry. She was scared, of course. Crystal was even scaring Emily, the way she carried on.
“I was making dinner, Trevor was watching TV and I’m sorry, but sometimes these things happen. That’s why it’s important to make sure you don’t leave things like a pen laying around.”
Crystal tossed her hands in the air. “Well, you’re going to have to pay for it. The cost to have this repainted by a professional is coming out of your pocket.”
“That’s not fair. It was your pen you left lying around. Of course, he’s going to pick it up and draw on something. He doesn’t understand--”
“You were hired to look after him. You’re not doing a good enough job, so don’t you dare blame your carelessness on me.” Crystal marched over to the TV and flicked it off.
“This isn’t a play room. From now on the kids need to stay out of the living room.” And then the woman sauntered up the stairs.
“Watch Dora, Momma.” Katy gazed up at Emily.
“No, everyone in the kitchen with me, dinner’s almost ready anyway.”
* * * *
The days got worse. When Brad came in, he ate and left.
Katy started whining over little things. She didn’t like her dolly, the book, Trevor was bugging her.
Crystal treated Emily like a servant, always demanding. Do her laundry, make her tea, coffee, clean her bathroom, make her bed and iron her shirts. And always when Emily was busy with the children. After the second day, Cliff and Mac had stopped coming in for dinner, and last night, Brad didn’t show up at all, which had Crystal storming out of the kitchen after eating alone.
Brad never explained to her what happened in his fight with Crystal. He kept his distance from her and Trevor. How could she have been so fooled by this man, believing he had integrity?
The few times she’d seen Brad come in, Crystal was right there. She’d run her hand up his chest or arm and smile in such a seductive way; Emily wanted to knock the grin off her face. The last time, Brad gripped her wrist and pushed it away. And he stared at Crystal with such contempt. None of this made sense.
Emily couldn’t sleep. She resented Brad for abandoning her. For not standing up for her �
�for not being the knight in shining armor she’d believed him to be. Emily could no longer subject Katy to this type of cruelty.
Crystal had stopped Trevor’s therapy, and taken over the therapy room upstairs.
It was underhanded how it happened. Emily had gone into town with the kids. It wasn’t until Emily had slipped upstairs to work with Trevor she discovered everything gone, replaced with unfamiliar boxes and art supplies.
Crystal had appeared as if suddenly conjured up, in her designer jeans and silk blouse, looking as if she stepped off the page of a fashion magazine. “I told you there would be no more therapy.” She sauntered around Emily and Trevor into the room, raising her eyebrow as if to accentuate her point. “I’ve already discussed this matter with Brad.”
It had taken Emily over an hour before she was able to track Brad down. He had been out in the north field. She saw him as soon as he cleared the tree line, riding Smoky. He dismounted and passed Smoky to Mac. “Unsaddle him.”
She couldn’t hold it in, as she clutched Trevor and Katy’s hand. “How could you stop Trevor’s therapy, move his toys, his therapy programs—everything out. How could you go along with her?” She trembled with the anger, the strain. It was all too much.
Brad bunched his fists and turned away from Emily and allowed a flow of foul curses to break free. The force of the words and the venom in his voice made Emily jump. Then he caught sight of movement by the side of the barn. Cliff leaned against the barn watching. Brad pounded the dirt as he stormed toward Cliff. “What the fuck do you know about this fucking bullshit and what that bitch did?” He grabbed the man’s jacket and shoved him against the barn.
Emily took a step back. She had a pretty good idea, for Brad to use the “F” word, it was a good indication of how pissed off he was. We’re talking code level red. Cliff tried to get away. When Brad let go, Cliff stepped back on his narrow long legs, his face paled, holding his hat in hand. His rumpled blonde hair was in bad need of a haircut.