Dinner at Eight-epub

by Jess Dee

  But she was with Jared. She was safe. He was the one person she never needed to protect herself against.

  Ava whispered his name a second before her legs gave in. Without her defenses, how could she stand? How could she hold herself upright?

  Helpless to balance either her weight or her emotions, she crumpled to the floor. Her eyes gave in to the pressure building behind them, and torrents of tears flooded out. Unable to stop them, Ava put her head in her hands and wept.

  Chapter Nine

  That flash of terror in her eyes wrenched Jared’s heart clear out of his chest. For the rest of his life he’d remember her harrowed expression, that look of anguish, as though she’d expected him to strike her. He was torn between the need to sweep Ava into his arms and comfort her, and the fear of alarming her any further.

  Again, he was reminded of Gheeri and the first time he’d treated her. The panther had sat in a corner, looking utterly defeated. Jared had held the tranq gun in his hand, knowing he’d have to use it yet loath to cause her any further pain.

  Going to Ava now might scare her, and fuck knew that was the last thing he ever wished to do. But the woman he loved lay broken on the floor. There was no way he could leave her there.

  Jared dropped to his knees and crawled across the kitchen floor, uttering soft reassurances the whole time. Jesus, he’d never hurt her. Ever. What sick bastard would?

  Unfortunately, as a vet, Jared knew there were a lot of sick bastards out there.

  “I’m right beside you, baby,” he soothed. “Just as soon as I’m sitting down, I’m gonna reach out and pull you into my arms.” He gave her a running commentary of each of his movements. “See? I’m easing my butt onto the floor and folding my legs in front of me. That’s better. I can hold you now. You ready for this? It’s just me, putting my hands on your waist.”

  Her entire body shook, but she didn’t push him away.

  “Okay, that’s good. Real good. Now to lift you up, not too high, just enough to pull you over, like…this.” He settled her on his lap, supporting her with his arms. “There we go. I’ve got you, baby. You’re safe now.” He held her like she was a small child, tenderly and with infinite care. “You’re always safe with me.”

  Ava curled into a ball on his lap, buried her face on his shoulder and wept.

  He ran his hand over hair. “I’ve got you, Av.”

  She cried for a very long time. Great heaving sobs that racked her body and his. Jared released her only long enough to grab a box of tissues, and then he was holding her again, comforting her. He sang to her, any song he could think of, keeping his voice soft and his tone soothing. Or trying to anyway.

  If anything could make Ava smile, it was the sound of his singing.

  Gradually, the crying eased. The shuddering too, calming to a tremor, as though she was cold.

  He rubbed her arms, transferring his body heat to her, and mopped her tears with handfuls of tissues, then held more to her nose so she could blow noisily.

  Inside, he was as broken as she. Witnessing her desolation tore him to pieces.

  “H-he hit me.”

  Jared’s blood ran cold. “Anthony?”

  Ava nodded.

  Motherfucker. “When?”

  She heaved in a shaky breath. “All the time.”

  Fury unfurled in his stomach.

  He shoved it aside. His wrath would only frighten her more. Ensuring Ava was okay was his number one priority. Skinning her asshole of an ex alive his second. “Tell me more.”

  “It…it started on our honeymoon.”

  That was the first time? “He never hurt you before the wedding?”

  She shook her head, and the answer provided a smidge of relief. She hadn’t walked into the marriage knowing what awaited her.

  “He was possessive before, opinionated even, but never violent.”

  Yeah, Jared knew firsthand just how possessive. Her fiancé had hated the time Ava spent with him and made no effort to conceal that resentment from Jared.

  He waited for Ava to go on, but she seemed lost to her thoughts.

  “Av?”

  She didn’t respond, just stared into space.

  “Torres.” He was determined that she stay with him in the present. There was no way he’d let her wander off into the horrors that lurked inside her mind again—not alone, anyway.

  “Torres,” he repeated, and this time she looked at him. “I know it’s hard, baby. But it’s time to talk about what happened. You need to let it out, and I need to know what he did to you.”

  “I don’t want to, Jar. Don’t want to say it out loud.”

  “He’s not here. He can’t harm you again. But you’re hurting anyway, keeping it bottled up. Tell me your story so I can lessen your burden. Share your pain.”

  Ava closed her eyes, and kept them closed a very long time. When she opened them again, she inhaled a shuddery breath. “I liked it then. His jealousy. The way he threw his weight around, showing everyone I was his woman. I thought it was…sexy.” She hiccupped. “Fool that I was.”

  “You’re no fool.” A victim, but never a fool. “What happened in Fiji?”

  “He…” Her voice broke off and she gazed back into space.

  “Speak to me, Torres.”

  She blinked, and when she spoke, her voice was a whisper. “He, uh, changed. His disposition, his mood, his temper. It all changed.”

  “How?”

  “He, um, started getting more possessive. Scowled when I changed into swimmers. Suggested I cover up so I didn’t attract unwanted attention from other men.” She rubbed her eyes. “I laughed at him. Called him old-fashioned. Thought he’d laugh back.”

  Asshole.

  Ava sat a little straighter. Her breath shuddered less. “If I spoke to anyone else, he got annoyed. Complained I wasn’t paying him enough attention. I couldn’t smile at another person without pissing him off. It was…unlike him.”

  Wrong. It was exactly like him. “Things must have gotten tense.”

  “A little. I let it go. Didn’t want to fight.” She snorted. “Honeymoons are supposed to be…idyllic.”

  “Yours wasn’t?”

  She shook her head. “One day on the beach? Anthony went for a swim, and some kid came up to me. He flirted, tried to hit on me.” A ghost of a smile touched her lips and was gone. “It was funny, Jar. He must have been nineteen or twenty. Hardly even out of school. I laughed, explained I was married and not interested. He took it well, even told me to call him if things didn’t work out.”

  Insightful kid. Things hadn’t worked out.

  “Anthony watched the whole thing. And he was pissed off. Accused me of leading the kid on. We fought that night. A big fight.” Her cheeks twitched. So did her mouth. “It upset me so much, I slept on the couch.”

  On her honeymoon? Christ. If Jared were on honeymoon with her, he’d struggle to let her out of his bed.

  “The next day he was all apologetic, all sorry for his behavior. He treated me like a queen, bowed to my every need and request. He was loving and sexy and the Anthony I’d married, so…I forgave him.”

  Ava stared at her nails for a long time. “And two days later, boom, he went off at me again—for talking to an older guy. A widower who’d brought his grandkids on holiday. We’d discussed books and the weather and the drinks we’d ordered, and that was it. As far as Anthony was concerned, I might as well have propositioned him. He marched off in a huff and I found him two hours later in the gym, pounding the shit out of a punching bag.” Her voice cracked.

  Jared’s shoulders went rigid. “What happened?”

  She cleared her throat and tucked her hands into her lap. “I guess I shouldn’t have approached him. Should just have let him be, let him take his aggression out on the bag.”

  Jared’s stomach heaved.

  “I didn’t. I figured we could talk about it rationally, and I called his name. He didn’t hear me.” She twisted her fingers together. “So, uh, I walked toward h
im, tapped him on the back…”

  Her voice faded, and sensing her need to gather her wits about her, Jared remained silent, dreading what was coming.

  “He didn’t hesitate. Not for one second. He threw a punch at the bag, swiveled around and threw the next punch at me. One minute I was standing on two feet, the next, my, uh, my jaw had smashed into my face, and I was flying through the air.”

  Rage and horror consumed Jared, so fierce he struggled to breathe. Ava weighed probably half of Anthony. If that. She wouldn’t have stood a chance against a fist aimed with full force in her direction.

  She touched her jaw, maybe subconsciously showing him where the blow had landed.

  Jared pressed the gentlest kiss to the same spot.

  “It hurt. So bad. I’d never felt pain like that. I couldn’t eat for days, couldn’t chew without crying. Even speaking hurt. But…but worse than the pain was the shock that the man I loved, the man I’d married, could have done that to me. I couldn’t believe it.”

  Fury and dismay smashed through Jared, temporarily blinding him.

  Ava pushed out of his lap, scrambling to her feet as though she couldn’t bear to be confined any longer.

  It went against his every instinct, but he let her go, giving her freedom when she needed it.

  “That was my first mistake.” She straightened the bin and began piling the garbage back inside, including the pile of tissues she’d used on her tears. “Failing to believe he could have done that to me. I should have opened my eyes to the real Anthony then. Should have packed my bags and walked out the second I could stand up without falling. My, er, balance was off for a day or two after he hit me.” She squashed the last piece of trash in the bin and went to wash her hands. Only when they were dry did she continue. “I didn’t. I gave him the benefit of the doubt. Accepted it was a mistake when he apologized. I believed him when he said he’d never meant to hurt me. I believed his lies, not his actions.”

  She began to pace. “But he was so convincing. So apologetic and eaten up with guilt. He bought me a pearl necklace one day and diamond earrings the next. He stayed with me, in the room for the rest of the honeymoon, filled the room with flowers, and held each glass to my mouth so I could sip from a straw because I couldn’t eat.”

  Jared’s lips twisted. He’d done the same thing with her. Brought her orange juice the other night and tried to hold it while she drank.

  She’d set the glass aside.

  “Anthony looked after me. Nursed me back to health. He was so nice, so loving. And I forgave him because I was blinded by the need to believe in him. I couldn’t see his care was just a form of manipulation. If I was in the room, recovering, I wasn’t outside in a bikini, enticing strange men with my almost-naked body. And if he was inside with me, he could control me.”

  “Did he hurt you again?”

  “Not on our honeymoon. And not while the bruise was still visible on my face. He hated that. The visual reminder of his crime.”

  “It took a long time to clear?”

  “Three weeks before all the swelling and color was gone. My jaw’s fine, but it gets a little stiff sometimes. Especially in the cold.”

  Jared saw red. Anthony’s abuse had caused long-term problems.

  “Thing is, I didn’t want to go out with the bruise, didn’t want anyone to see it. So when we got home, I spent those first few weeks in the flat. And that got complicated because my parents and the Dinner Club all wanted to visit and find out about the honeymoon, and of course, I couldn’t invite them over, because then I’d have to admit what Anthony had done, and I never wanted them to know. Plus, I couldn’t work. I wouldn’t let our staff or clients see my face, so I had to take extended leave, which meant Anthony took over some of my pending sales and the rest I lost to colleagues.” Her pacing increased in speed, and Jared sensed an anger that hadn’t been there before. “And didn’t my being trapped in the flat just delight the crap out of my dear husband?”

  “He was happy you were trapped indoors?”

  “Ecstatic. So when that bruise finally cleared, and I suggested we go for dinner to Chelsea’s with everyone, you can imagine his response. He declined, and suggested I decline too. But damn it, Jar, I hadn’t seen my friends for over a month. I missed them. So I went. Alone.”

  And she’d kept mum. Hadn’t told a single person about the trauma of her honeymoon. “How was it?”

  “Hard. There were a million questions about where and why I’d been hiding, and I was so desperate to protect Anthony from judgment for what he’d done—because I knew he was so truly sorry—I never breathed a word of it to any of them. I sat there smiling and pretending everything was fine. I even convinced myself it was all fine, so going home to a slap in the face was, well, a bit of a surprise.”

  “A slap in the face?” He hoped she was speaking metaphorically.

  “Yep. Turned out Anthony wasn’t thrilled with me going out without him. And he let me know, first by hurling a barrage of verbal abuse my way, accusing me of neglecting him and our marriage and putting my friends before him, and then he slapped me, clean across the cheek.” She pointed to said cheek. “On the other side of my face to where he’d punched me.” She stopped and stared at him. “It stung so bad.”

  Jared felt the sting too. In his gut. It burned inside him, feeding off his fury. “Tell me you walked out on him.”

  “I did. I turned around and walked out of the apartment. Made it to the staircase before he came after me, begging for forgiveness.”

  “Did you grant it?” Say no!

  “Not at first. But then…he cried. Real tears of remorse. He was so choked up he couldn’t talk, so angry with himself, so upset for causing me more pain.” She shrugged. “And you know what? I believed those tears were sincere. I still do. I think that time when he hit me, he was as astounded as I was, as shocked by his actions. I’d never seen him cry before, never seen him so upset. In that moment he truly hated himself. Enough for both of us.”

  “You forgave him.”

  “I forgave him. And once again he was a wonderful, loving husband. For three weeks. But…”

  “But?” Christ, there was more?

  “But he used that time to isolate me from everyone. When I went to work, he told me there was no need. He encouraged me to resign, said he could support us both. He convinced me that being the boss, he could make enough money, and that way I wouldn’t have to work after hours or on weekends.” She grimaced. “What he really meant was I should give up my job, my stimulation and my income so I’d become totally dependent on him.” She gave Jared a sad smile. “I stopped work at the end of that three weeks. I was blind to all of this at the time. I couldn’t see what he was doing. Later, months of trauma counseling helped me understand, but you know what they say about hindsight and all?”

  “Twenty-twenty vision?”

  “It’s so clear now. The way he managed me, manipulated me. But then…then I just wanted to make our marriage work. We hadn’t been married six weeks, and already everything was falling apart. I couldn’t stand that. Didn’t want to fail at something I’d looked forward to with my whole heart. I refused to give up. I had to forgive him and love him, even if he had some…issues.”

  “He hit you again? Even after you quit work?”

  “I mentioned going for dinner again, at Chelsea’s. He got this look in his eyes, the same one he’d had when he slapped me. I couldn’t face what I knew was coming, so I cancelled. Pulled out of Dinner Club that night. Anthony rewarded me for it. Took me out for some outrageously expensive dinner and treated me like a queen for the next week. I’d bowed to his demands, and he was thrilled. I was being the perfect wife, acting exactly how he expected.”

  She rubbed her eyes and shook her head. “God, Jar. I fell for it. I loved the attention, loved how he looked at me. I realized that if I did what he wanted, we could be happy. So I cooked his favorite dinners and we watched his favorite TV programs, and we went out with his friends and saw
his family, and life was good. I was happy. A little surprised that married life was different to what I’d expected, but happy.”

  “Until…?” Because there was definitely an until coming.

  “Until the next Dinner Club. He refused to go and refused to let me go alone. I wouldn’t listen, got changed and everything, and when I picked up my keys, he, well, he lost it. He came after me, with that same gleam in his eye. And there was no stopping him.”

  Jared inhaled a shuddery breath.

  “I went to dinner that night. Without him. But I didn’t say much. Couldn’t. I was in too much pain. It hurt to breathe.”

  “You never told them?” Their friends. Any one of them would have bent over backward to protect her.

  She shook her head.

  “What about Greg?” Christ, didn’t she know she could have told his brother anything? He would have helped her. Protected her. Gotten her away from that psychopath. Greg would have phoned him, and damn it, he’d have been on the next plane home.

  She dropped her head so he couldn’t see her face. “I was too ashamed.”

  Jared had to swallow down the lump in his throat. “Christ…”

  “I know. Pathetic.” She wandered back into the lounge room.

  He scrambled to follow.

  “I figured they’d think less of me if they knew what I’d let him do.” She leaned over to pick up her yoga pants and underwear, which she folded neatly and put on the coffee table.

  “They’d have helped you. Any one of them.” They’d been desperate to help but hadn’t known how.

  “I know. But I was…embarrassed.” She picked up his boxers, folded them and placed them atop her clothes.

  Having watched her slip on her shirt, Jared had pulled on his pants before following her to the kitchen, sensing she’d needed him to be dressed. His shirt still hung open around his shoulders. “Anthony should have been embarrassed, not you.”

  She found his shoes and placed them next to the table. “I didn’t want anyone to know how weak I was. I found out later that night he’d broken my rib.”