Yes. It sucked. All of it.
Yes. She was raped. Even though it was her spouse.
Yes. She kept herself hostage there.
Yes. That was stupid. Wrong. She made herself his victim.
Yes. Of course, there were plenty of threats about what he’d do to her.
But it never excused what she failed to do for herself.
And that’s what hung her up. That single thing. She stayed. She couldn’t let it go. She couldn’t chant to herself enough times to believe that it wasn’t her fault. She could not blame it all on her father and Elliot.
For, in some perverse way, didn’t she allow it to continue?
She felt removed from everyone around her and just couldn’t connect with the women in the group. She couldn’t connect with her therapist. She went to her appointments. She did. She honestly tried to talk and do the small tasks the therapist assigned her to think or write about. She tried. She put in substantial effort. It just didn’t work for her.
What she found the most depressing was how much worse off some of the women whom she met were. They had young kids and no money. They had no family or friends. They were as stuck being where they were as she made herself out to be.
And all the while, she tracked Elliot. He was in full force, campaigning. She regularly checked The Washington Post and several of the other local Virginia papers and circulars. Her father was right: she could simply track Elliot’s every move. She got a map and put push pins into the various locations she learned he’d gone to. He was speaking at the luncheon for veterans. He was fundraising with a high school track team at a car wash to earn money so they could go to their regional competitions. He was an honorary judge at a cook-off in a local restaurant. She simply smiled each time she found his location, while breathing a sigh of relief. She knew it would take him at least a day to reach her if he ever found her. So each time she read that he had another engagement, she knew she was safe for another day. And that’s how she lived: from one day to the next.
Elliot publicly excused her absence by saying they felt the need to ensure her safety after the vicious attack she suffered at the hands of one of his lunatic fans. Sure it was crap, but it worked. The news media ate it up. He even got national coverage after her attack and subsequent disappearance. He was a hero.
Will called her and was very close to going after him. She told him to leave it alone. Just leave it. She wasn’t there anymore and that was enough for now.
Noah called and she spoke to him, but it was awkward. She couldn’t find any connection with him either. It was all screwed up in her head. Because it was her fault. She couldn’t utter the stupid banal, everyday things to say; although the bigger, badder subjects were suddenly not hers to discuss either.
Although she didn’t want to talk, she also didn’t want to go back. She didn’t care anymore that she was hiding. She just didn’t want to be Lindsey Johanson, battered woman and victim of domestic abuse.
****
“Is she okay? She doesn’t sound okay,” Noah asked Gretchen. He shouldn’t have been going behind Lindsey’s back, but he couldn’t take it anymore.
“She’s okay. She’s just dealing with it. It’s not easy. As we discussed before, it isn’t going to be easy. She’s just going through the motions right now. That’s enough for the time being.”
“I should be there.”
“No, you should not. You can’t right now. Just let her be. That’s the best thing you can do for her now.”
“I wish…”
“I know. We all do. But this is what it is. Nothing can make it go faster or speed it up. Healing from something like this isn’t like ripping off a Band-Aid. You don’t just put up with the stinging and then move on. It’s a process of building layer upon layer of new skin over a deep, puncture wound. Skip only one layer, and you’re right back to being infected and pus-filled. And you gain nothing but the need to go back in, rip off the contaminated scabs, dig down to the original wound, and start all over again.”
He coughed in surprise. Shit. She sure had a way of visually saying things. “Eloquently made point. Okay. I’ll let her slowly heal.”
“Keep busy, Noah. Just be there for her and let her talk to you, or not. Let her be distant or whatever she needs to be.”
“Yeah. I will. Just keep her safe, okay?”
“I am.”
He hung up the phone and stared without seeing through his back windows. He didn’t want to be here in this big, old house that he used to love and enjoy puttering around in. Now, he simply sat or paced because nothing felt right. Nothing felt okay. He was anxious and worried and he couldn’t shake it. He worried incessantly about Lindsey. Was she okay? Was she sleeping tonight? Was she thinking about him? Was she able to get up today? What if Elliot found her? What would he do to her? What if she tried to go back? What if she regretted what they shared? What if she regretted knowing him? Or forgot all about him?
Selfishly, he couldn’t handle that: her forgetting about him. He obsessively worried about her from hundreds of miles away. He routinely tended his practice and fed his animals. He also met with his family for dinner or the occasional get-together. But the will to do anything beyond sitting there, stewing and longing, completely escaped him.
He had Tessa and her crew to thank for some company and a lot of chaos. They helped, much to his surprise. He often played catch with the older two boys and coached the younger crew on how to help out with the dogs. They all loved the dogs. They spent hours out there playing with and petting them. Apparently, they’d never known dogs could be pets before. Dean trained his to appear rabid.
The kids, who were otherwise quiet and subdued, acted like normal, happy, boisterous children whenever they were playing and running around with the animals. The animals seemed to conquer their fear and apathy.
The idea that came to Noah then finally obliterated his own apathy.
He contacted the shelter where Tessa first ran to, and they readily agreed for him to come in on Saturdays. He would bring his best behaved dogs and cats with him.
And so began a new endeavor. It wasn’t much. He couldn’t cure cancer, or end the nightmares for these women and children. He couldn’t save them or solve any of their problems, but he did manage to give them a smile on Saturday afternoons. He hauled over a few cats, a puppy, and three older dogs to the shelter and just let the kids play. There were often different women who stayed there. Some were long-term. Others went back to their homes before his next visit. He always felt like someone socked his heart when he realized a former face was missing. He wondered what they might be doing on that Saturday.
Tessa’s kids liked to come and help him.
Tessa took Lindsey’s job and succeeded at it. When she got her first paycheck, her eyes grew moist, she was so shocked that he would actually pay her a salary. All Noah knew was that these battered women gave him significant pause to everything he formerly considered a person’s basic rights: to live and work, and to love and enjoy one’s days without any fear or threat of violence.
He encouraged Tessa to take part in the local shelter’s program. They allowed shelter workers as well as domestic abuse survivors go with the police on domestic abuse calls. They were asked to talk with the victims and provide a face to the assistance that was available. Instead of a useless, cold phone number that meant nothing to the abused victim, the shelter worker could provide a sympathetic face, conversation, and warmth. It was a brilliant program in Noah’s opinion, and he applauded the police department for activating it. He often thought of Lindsey. She would have been good at this.
Still, nothing could totally replace what he missed most in his life.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Noah went to see Lindsey three months later. He stood tapping his toe on Gretchen’s doorstep, his anxiety making acid rise into his throat that burned his mouth. Would she welcome him? Would she be as stiff and cold to him as she sounded on the phone? How was she really? How was he r
eally?
Lindsey jerked the door open after his timid knock and he physically stepped back. Lindsey? He blinked. No. He wasn’t sure. Other than the eyes, he didn’t recognize a single inch of her.
Her hair was barely longer than a finger’s length. It was kind of gelled up in a haphazard mess that looked kind of cool, if not odd. The color was mostly dark brown, but it had burgundy highlights as well as red and purple. It made her face look completely different from the soft, ethereal, almost tragic version of an angel, to a woman who could have been exiting a tattoo parlor. Her makeup was as goth and dramatic as the hair. She wore a dark t-shirt, untucked, and ripped, dark jeans that did great things for her ass and long legs. She was still too skinny, and her arms poked out of the t-shirt sleeves like long poles. There was something hot about her like this, however, if he didn’t try to compare it to how she used to look.
She stared him down. She didn’t touch her hair in that old, kind of sweet brush to make sure it was in place. It wasn’t her old shy, kind of demure greeting either. Instead, she stared right at him, her hand stuck on her hip and her leg jutting out.
“You came. I wasn’t sure you would.”
“I told you I was.”
Her tone sounded somewhat belligerent. To Noah, sweet, soft-spoken Lindsey was now rocker-gone-angry. She opened the door and stepped aside so he could come in. He grabbed his bag and entered, setting it discreetly off to the side. Maybe he’d turn around and leave in barely a few minutes. Maybe it was huge mistake to go there; and he intended to be poised and ready to correct it.
Except… he wanted nothing more than to stay with her.
She kicked the door shut behind her. Huh. Even her movements seemed sharper, angrier, and more forceful. Who was this new Lindsey?
He tilted his head as she stared him down and her eyes ran over the length of him. He looked the same. Still too tall and lanky, still wearing black-rimmed glasses, with hair that was too damn big and unruly for him to bother with. He wore beige khakis with a shirt tucked into them. Kind of what you’d expect for a rural, thirty-five-year-old veterinarian.
After glimpsing Lindsey, Noah was not the kind of guy you’d expect to be her… well, hell, what was he anyway? Boyfriend? No. Not even close. They didn’t have that kind of conversation.
Her eyebrows rose as if in some kind of dare. He swore she must’ve been waiting for something from him. But what? Her tongue poked into her cheek as she proceeded to tap her foot. She was barefoot, and her skinny jeans only emphasized her slender calves and white feet.
“Well?”
“Well?” What was he missing?
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, what do you have to say about this? How I look?”
He stared hard, squinting his eyes with exaggerated scrutiny. “Well… honestly?”
“Yeah. Honestly.”
“You’re hot. Far too hot for the likes of me.”
Her arms dropped down. “Really? You don’t hate it?”
That was what her attitude was all about? Because she expected him to hate her new look? Her new disguise? Her statement of rebellion? And why did it matter what she did? She was doing something, which was a lot better than having her husband beat her up. So yeah, he loved her new look, which made her seem like she could kick his ass.
“I love the new look.”
He almost fell backwards when she suddenly launched herself into his arms. He certainly was not expecting that kind of reaction. The Lindsey of old was always reticent and slow to react or act. Not like this. Not suddenly ensconced in his arms, kissing him, and wrapping herself around him.
Their lips met and her mouth opened as quickly as that. Her tongue tasted sweet and hot on his. He groaned as he grabbed her arms and brought her up to her toes making her just a little taller and allowing him easier access. She started grabbing at the buttons on his shirt as her kiss went far beyond his lips, tongue, teeth; and the heat inside her felt like it might incinerate him. The thing he felt most unsure of was whether this was okay to do.
****
Noah’s tongue felt strong and went deeper into her mouth, turning her insides to molten, hot lava that flowed through her veins and arteries while concentrating in her limbs. She was warmed so swiftly, and so thoroughly, she had to claw at his back just to stay upright. She never felt like this before. She never experienced all powerful, sense-consuming lust. And it felt awesome. Better than all the talking and therapy. She felt alive. Alive and hot. Alive and whole. Alive and wanted. Alive and powerful. So alive!
She turned and started pulling him with her down the hallway. Their legs tangled and nearly tripped them as they clumsily made their way to her bedroom. She leaned into her door, tugging on his shirt to bring him closer. So much closer. She needed him on her, in her, and all around her. She could have devoured him. She wanted to. And she never wanted a man before like she did Noah.
They stayed pressed against the door for minutes. Hours? She didn’t know. Her entire body was on fire, caught up in a passion that overcame all her other emotions, and hesitation, and all the caution that usually ruled her life.
It was Noah. He was there: touching her, holding her, and kissing her. She nearly sighed with pleasure, relief, and profound need. No, maybe not need. She did not need a man. Not anymore. Not like the years she wasted needing Elliot. She wanted Noah, and craved being near him, feeling his body, and fucking him. And the strangest thing to Lindsey was, how wrong it always was before. Suddenly, she was free now, and it was okay to want sex from him.
After she finally succeeded in unbuttoning his shirt, she pushed it off his shoulders. He rapidly shrugged out of it without breaking the seal of their mouths. She sucked on his bottom lip as he groaned his delighted response. Grabbing her shoulders, he turned, opening the door, and dragged them inside it. He backed her against the door. His mouth descended again and traveled along her jaw, down her neck, to her collarbone, licking and sucking, before returning to her lips. He seemed to be everywhere at once as his hands removed her shirt and lifted her bra out of the way. Gripping one breast, his thumb went back and forth over her hardened nipple. She leaned her head back into the door, nearly coming right then. The tempo grew hotter, as she moved back and forth on him. She undid his belt buckle so she could grind into him. He spread her legs and pushed one of his legs between hers. She groaned at the intense rush. She could not get enough of him.
He wasn’t hesitant this time. He was no longer hell-bent on refusing her this time. He was, in fact, almost incinerating her with his radiant body heat. He released her only long enough to nearly rip her shirt and bra off before his fingertips trembled in his urgency to unzip her jeans. She did the same to him. Pushing the shirt out of the way, she swiftly slid off his belt and jeans. There was no reason to hurry, but she could not contain her sense of urgency. It was the first time she’d ever had sex purely to gratify her own lust. To satisfy her feelings and finally know how to satisfy them.
After pulling his jeans off, along with his underwear, he clumsily tried to hop out of his shoes, one at a time, using his other foot. It could almost have been comical if Lindsey weren’t nearly about to die with desire. Her entire body was swollen to almost bursting. She quickly slid her own jeans and panties off.
He came back to her, his hand resting on the door above her head as he started kissing her again. She had to stand on her tiptoes while he leaned down. She clung to his shoulders, then moved her hand down and grabbed him. He felt large and ever so hot in her hand. He jerked when she grasped him, and his hand curled above her head as he deepened the kiss even more. Holy shit this was hot! She never knew what hot sex was about before. She had never gotten so aroused standing up, or felt so much like doing it before either.
She pulled on him and his hands cupped her face as his mouth devoured hers. She did it again, and again. She could feel him pushing against her as he leaned heavily into her. Whatever she was doing, he obviously liked it. And crazily, so did she. She never fe
lt so powerful before. She never even knew she could.
She slid her hand down to the tip and played with him until he was shuddering for breath. She could feel his chest gasping, nearly hyperventilating. She wasn’t sure. He suddenly pushed her hand off him, dropped to his knees and began doing something. What just happened?
Then he was back up, holding a condom in his hand for her to see. “Got it!” He grinned happily. And unbelievably, a giggle rose in her chest. He was the only one who could manage to make her feel like giggling. And acting stupid. She soon found herself laughing. A second earlier, she was ready to put his dick in her mouth, and now, he had her laughing uncontrollably, giggling as all the stress flew out of her. Her nerves and anger flowed away and evaporated.
Noah’s smile was as quick and wide as a boy who’d just found a hundred-dollar bill on the sidewalk. Her heart felt like it was melting into her chest, and becoming a puddle of veins and blood, all congealing into a very strange feeling inside of her. It was like Noah, with his smile, bright eyes, and happy tone, was somehow filling her up. Somehow, he was warming her, but far beyond being turned on, which she already was.
She had to stand up on her toes and grab his head, bringing him relatively close before she could reach his face. She leaned her forehead up to his. He quit grinning as soon as he caught her serious expression. He stared into her eyes, and she into his. Suddenly, they both quit moving and groping one another. Then, the entire world stopped spinning. Time ceased. Her entire life and history simply halted.
They were Noah and Lindsey. No last names. No right. No wrong. No violence. No recovery. They were simply two people enjoying each other. Right then. Right there. Right now.
He smiled again, reflecting his sincere and caring warmth. She felt like her entire world shifted. His smile was soft, and small, almost shy. As if he were timidly checking out her reaction to him. She touched his lips and he grabbed her hand and held it against them. He kissed her knuckles, but kept his eyes on hers. “I love you, Lindsey” he whispered as his lips grazed the corner of her mouth.
The Good Sister (Sister Series, #2) Page 28