The words pour out as if I'm talking about someone else.
How could this be my life? How could I let this go on for so long?
Telling the whole truth hurts.
How could I not see how wrong these things were then?
Why did I let him smother me with so much anger and vileness?
"He made me do things – sexual things – that I didn't want to do. That I begged him not to do. Sometimes, he'd leave bruises on me, or make me cry because it hurt and I couldn't satisfy him." I swallow down the bile rising in my throat at the memory of his fingerprints branded into my skin in black and purple, of the way he yelled the word frigid at me, blaming me because he couldn't finish when we were together.
"When I caught him sleeping with someone else in our bed, he blamed me. He told me he wouldn't need someone else if I wasn't so frigid and useless," I force myself to continue. "When I tried to leave, I slipped on glass and got hurt. There was blood everywhere, and he screamed at me and told me I was clumsy." Tears burn in my eyes at the memory. I was so scared and in so much pain, and he kept yelling at me.
Judge Blakely doesn't say anything, and I'm not brave enough to look at him.
"He took me to the hospital and left me there. He didn't even tell them my name," I whisper. "They had to get it from my ID. He never came back to see me. I almost died, and he didn't even check to see if I survived or not." I take a deep breath, trying to force the pain of my confession down. It's a bitter thing to swallow.
"When I was discharged, I went to the apartment to get my things when I knew he'd be gone, and I came back here. Now he's here, and he wants me to go back with him, and I'm scared." My shoulders shake with the force of my admission. Tears slip down my cheeks. I want to curl into a ball and sob again. "I'm so scared he'll find a way to punish me for leaving at all. That he'll force me to go back."
Judge Blakely is completely silent as I try to hold myself together with Scotch tape and Band-Aids. All of my wounds are raw and bleeding, like I put myself in a wood chipper. But I feel relief, too. That I'm not there anymore. That I didn't just let things happen to me this time. I stood up for myself.
For once, I'm the master of my fate.
Chris escorts me from the courthouse an hour later, my legs shaking. My body is caught between warring desires. I want to throw up. I want to jump up and down and scream. I keep glancing down at the sheaf of papers in my hand, trying to make sense of them.
"You okay?" Chris asks when I stumble over a slight rise in the floor.
I peek up at him and then back down to the papers in my hand.
"It's not what we wanted, but it'll do the job," he says. He sounds disappointed.
I'm not. I'm so relieved, I can't see straight. Toby can't come near me. The papers in my hand shake, this knowledge washing through me in a flood. Not even the tears still drying on my face or the sick, sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach at Judge Blakely's suggestion that I find a therapist detract from the all-over sense of relief billowing through me.
A massive weight has been lifted from my chest.
I don't have to see Toby. He can't call me anymore, or come to the Talbot estate. My life with him is over, and there's nothing he can say or do to change that or hurt me now. For the first time in months, in years, I can breathe.
"We hoped the judge would extend the order to public settings," Chris says, jogging down the steps outside the courthouse. The sun shines brightly overhead, though storm clouds gather on the horizon again. "We'll just have to be careful when you leave the property. One of us will go with you if you have to leave, at least until McKee crawls back into his hole."
I have no idea how that'll work if I go back to school, but I refuse to dwell on it, choosing instead to focus on the here and now. Judge Blakely barred Toby from coming to the Talbot estate or calling me. To me, this is victory. It's safety. That's all that matters.
"You should call him," Chris advises, fishing his keys from his pocket as we near the parking lot. He presses a button on the remote. The lights on his Jeep flash and two sharp beeps echo throughout the parking lot.
"Call him?" I peer at him, confused.
"Jared," he says, one brow cocked. "You sure you're okay, Savannah?"
Jared. Of course. I shake my head to clear it of the fog and then nod. "I'm fine," I assure him. I'm better than fine. I'm ecstatic. Fishing in my purse for my cell phone, I pull it out, eager to call Jared and thank him for the gift he's given me.
Chris just shakes his head and continues toward the Jeep.
I find Jared's number and press the button to call him.
The phone rings twice before he answers.
"Savannah," he sighs, relief whispering through the phone.
Butterflies leap into flight in my stomach at the silky sound of his voice in my ear. I miss him.
"Hi," I say.
"Are you okay?" he asks.
"I'm fine." I watch Chris lean against the Jeep and pull his own phone from his pocket. He keeps his eyes on me, looking out for me, I think.
"Did–" Jared clears his throat. "Did you get it?"
"Yes."
"Thank god," he whispers, the words a prayer.
"Thank you," I say, glancing back down at the sheaf of papers in my hand. "Thank you so much, Jared." And then I'm crying again, sobbing into the phone as relief and love and gratitude engulf me.
Jared makes soothing noises, trying to calm me. I can hear the desperation in his voice as he pleads with me not to cry, but I can't stop and I can't even explain why I'm crying. The last two hours have been emotionally and mentally exhausting, but for once, I fought for myself. And I won.
"Come home, beautiful girl," he says, groaning. "I need to hold you in my arms."
Chris hurries toward me.
I sniffle and promise Jared that I'm on my way. I'm not sure he understands the tangle of words that come out of my mouth, but he tells me he loves me and ends the call.
Chris takes the phone and my copy of the protection order from my shaking hands. "I'm proud of you," he says, patting me on the back again.
Chapter Eighteen: Crack the Shutters
Jared's waiting for us when we pull up. He stands at the end of the driveway beside the guesthouse, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. His tie hangs loose around his neck. He's dressed in slacks. His hair is a mess, and he hasn't shaved. He still looks exhausted, but a smile stretches across his face. It's so bright, I can't breathe.
Chris pulls the Jeep to a stop beside him.
My hands tremble.
I fumble with my seatbelt and the door handle.
Before I can get the door open, Jared's there, lifting me from the car.
And then his mouth is on mine. He kisses me hard, his mouth working against mine in that way only he's ever kissed me. Like he can't control himself, can't stop.
And I know I shouldn't kiss him back here, but I can't help it.
I kiss him.
I can't stop.
Chris says something, but I don't hear the words.
All I can hear is Jared panting and the way my heart races.
All I feel is his arms around me and his lips against mine.
Everything is bright. So, so bright. Just touching him again has filled me up with sunshine and there's no room for all those torn, painful things I said in Judge Blakely's chambers. There's no room left for Toby McKee or fear or humiliation.
There's just this: Jared kissing me as he mutters something to Chris and lifts me in his arms, carrying me toward the guesthouse. I wrap my legs around his waist, clinging, too far gone to care who sees us. Too far gone to remember why we've been hiding, or why my world is still so out of order.
Somehow, we make it up the steps.
Jared fumbles with the door, trying to get it open while kissing me.
I gasp for breath as we stumble inside.
He kicks the door closed and then he's pressing me against it gently. His mouth is everywher
e and so are his hands. And I'm on fire, burning everywhere while I gasp and groan and cry out.
His name fills the air around us, seeming to echo from everywhere.
He's pushing my dress up, pulling my panties to the side.
He reaches between us, fumbling with his zipper.
I cry out when his knuckles brush against me.
And then again when he pushes into me, filling me.
Every part of me sings in response, humming with pleasure. I moan, my hands in his hair as he makes frantic love to me against the front door. Little groans break from his lips. He says my name over and over.
I'm flying, and I don't want to come down.
His stubble tickles my cheek as he presses kisses into my skin, licking and sucking and nipping at my throat. His hands are against the door beside my head, holding us both up. He pushes into me over and over.
And I don't want him to stop. I don't ever want him to stop making me feel this way. I'm not frigid with him, and it doesn't hurt. It's beautiful, perfect… how a big part of me always knew it should be. No part of me fears sex with Jared. There is no shame or humiliation or self-loathing. When he's inside of me, I know I'm cherished and desired.
I come hard, sobbing his name. Everything shatters apart, pleasure rushing through me so fast, I can't catch my breath. I don't want to catch my breath. I just want to keep going, on and on until I can't move and the heavy weight of Jared's hands on my body is imprinted so deeply into my mind, I never forget how he feels in this moment.
While I float in heaven, Jared thrusts into me and stills. His head kicks back. His cheeks flush. Sweat glistens on his forehead. My name breaks from his lips. The sight of him coming is so beautiful, I'm knocked breathless again.
Before I know it, he's wrapping his arms around me again. His lips are on mine, and we're stumbling toward my bedroom. He's still inside of me, still lifting me up and down his cock. And I'm so far gone, I don't think I'll ever be the same again.
He makes love to me until I can't move. My entire body is numb and tingling at the same time. Day has given way to night. We're a naked, sweaty pile on my bed. I'm in heaven again.
He shifts around beside me from his sprawl, pulling me up against him.
I curl into him, listening to the way his heart pounds beneath my ear. Breath rasps in and out of his throat. I love the way the sounds meld together – as if his body plays a song only I get to hear.
"I love you," he whispers against my crown.
"I love you, too," I hum, running one hand up and down his side. He's so muscular, so strong. There's not an inch of flab or fat on him anywhere. I don't understand how someone can be so perfect inside and out, but he is.
"I'm sorry I couldn't go with you today," he says.
"It's okay."
"Lexi went to the office for a few hours."
"Oh." It's Monday… I'd forgotten Lexi was due back at work today.
"I'm so fucking proud of you, beautiful girl."
A smile cracks my lips. I'm pretty damn proud of me, too.
"I didn't think I could do it," I confess.
Jared plays with my hair, tugging his fingers through the sweaty mess. His hands catch on knots, but he's gentle and the strands loosen before slipping freely through his fingers. "You underestimate yourself, Savannah," he says. "You don't know your own self-worth or strength."
And he's right. I know he is. So why do I struggle so hard to believe him?
"The judge thinks I should see a therapist."
Jared's quiet for a long moment, though he doesn't stop playing with my hair. "What do you think?" he finally asks.
I bite my lip. "I think he's probably right."
"But?" he says as if he can hear what I haven't said.
"I'm not sure I'm ready." I'm not sure I want to keep rehashing the past over and over again, especially with a stranger. I have nothing against therapy… but I don't want to be the one sitting on the couch being judged by someone else. The mere thought makes me want to throw up.
Jared presses his lips to my crown. "I've seen a therapist before."
"You have?" I readjust positions so I can peek up at him.
It's dark and I can barely make out his face, but he's focused on the far wall, not looking at me.
"Yeah, first when my biological parents died," he says. His voice is soft, quiet. "And then again when I shot a suspect."
"I didn't know about that."
"I don't talk about it often." He hesitates. "I wasn't even out of training yet."
"What happened?"
"A sixteen-year-old kid tried to rob a convenience store. I interrupted him, and he took the clerk hostage. She wasn't much older than he was. She kept crying that she had a baby. When he put his gun to her head and threatened to kill her, I shot him."
"Did he–?"
"Survive? Yeah, barely. He's still in prison."
I don't say anything for a long time. I'm not sure what to say. But my heart hurts for Jared. He's so full of goodness – so caring – I can only imagine how hard it was for him to shoot someone else. To shoot a kid. I briefly wonder if that's why he doesn't carry a gun now, but I don't ask.
I press a kiss to his chest instead, over his heart. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."
"Me too," he says. "The agency made me see a therapist for a while afterward. It helped to talk about what happened instead of letting it eat at me." He resumes running his hands through my hair. "Maybe talking will help you, too."
"Maybe," I say.
We both fall quiet again. I snuggle closer to him, my eyes drifting closed. His hands are still in my hair and the warmth of his body against mine soothes me. I float in our little bubble, just enjoying the moment.
And then my stomach growls loudly.
Jared laughs, his chest rumbling beneath my ear. "I think we need to feed you, beautiful girl."
"I haven't eaten in a while." The thought of going to the main house to face Lexi still makes my stomach clench and twist. What am I going to say to her? Better yet… what's she going to say to me? Is she even still speaking to me?
"Did Chris feed you today?"
"Ah, no."
Jared sighs.
"I wasn't very hungry," I say quickly. It's not his brother's fault the thought of food made me nauseous.
"You don't eat enough, Savannah," Jared says, slowly untangling the two of us. He reaches over and flips on the lamp beside the bed before rising to his feet. "You haven't eaten in two days."
I relax back against the pillows, watching him. He stands there, unashamed. The muscles in his back ripple when he stretches his arms over his head. The little dimples on his lower back draw my attention.
I'm staring at his ass when he turns around and catches me.
He grins at me when my cheeks flush.
"You better stop looking at me like that," he says. "I don't think you can take any more tonight."
He's right, but heat unfurls in my stomach at the thought anyway.
I think he knows it because he grins again, shaking his head at me.
He holds his hand out. "Come on, beautiful girl."
I hesitate for a long moment, trying to think of an excuse to stay right where I am.
None comes.
It's time to face Lexi.
Crap. I don't want to do this.
Demetri waves to us from the little guard booth at the end of the driveway as we make our way toward the mansion. Stewart's with him, his blond head bent over a clipboard. Part of me wants to laugh at that – at how legitimate they are with their clipboards and perimeter checks and shift changes – but I can't.
My heart's in my throat. I have my arms wrapped around me, though I'm not cold in the shorts and t-shirt I reluctantly donned. It's warm out, and the air smells of rainwater and grass. Crickets chirp all around me, the males singing their mating songs to their women. Or maybe they're talking about insect sports. Who knows?
Jared walks at my side, so close his arm bru
shes against mine every time he takes a step. His hair is a mess. His shirt is wrinkled to the point of no return. He looks exactly as if we've been making love all evening. Though I've tamed my hair into a loose ponytail, I look about the same. My cheeks are flushed, my lips still swollen from his kisses.
The moment Lexi sets eyes on us, she's going to know what we've been doing.
I tried to convince Jared that I wasn't hungry, but he just frowned at me and told me I need to eat. And he's right… but my knees are weak, my stomach is twisted in knots, and I still don't know what I'm supposed to say to her.
I almost fall over when Jared unlocks the door to the kitchen in the mansion and lets me in, but the house is dark, quiet. Lexi and Madeline are nowhere to be found.
Relief loosens the knots in my stomach.
Jared flips the light on and stands aside for me to enter before following me inside. He grabs my hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles.
"See? No big deal." He's smiling at me again.
I just shrug, not convinced Lexi won't suddenly appear.
"What do you want to eat?" Jared asks, dropping my hand.
He crosses to the massive fridge and pulls both doors wide open. It's still fully stocked. Even though it's been over a month since Matthew died, people still bring food every time they stop by to check on the girls. Lexi sends most of it off to homeless shelters, keeping only what won't go to waste. I don't think anyone has cooked since I've been back.
"Um, surprise me," I mumble, not really caring what we eat. I just need food.
Jared pokes his head into the fridge and begins prowling through the various casserole dishes. He lifts lids, frowns, and then sets them aside. Two end up on the counter beside him, along with a bowl of fruit and yogurt.
I wander further into the room and settle down at the table, watching him prowling through the various dishes in the fridge. He seems so comfortable, like he's lived here all his life. He knows exactly where everything is, and proceeds to pile a plate high with chicken salad sandwiches, potato salad, fresh fruit, and yogurt.
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