Indivisible Souls: Book 3 of the Bound4Ireland Series
Page 24
He slides his hand beneath the waistband of her white cotton briefs, smoothing across her cheek. Slowly, he peels them down to her thighs. “Spread your legs more.”
She does as he asks, then leans forward, pressing her chest against his leg.
“All talk and no discipline, you say?” Another firm smack, lands against her skin.
She can feel his chest begin to heave with short, aroused breaths. Another smack, quickly followed by a few more, makes her wince. Dipping his hand between her legs, he finds her wet and wanting. He teases her clit, making her squirm. “Be still.”
“Fuck. I can’t,” she complains. Another firm hand lands on her ass, making her whimper. The red glow warms his palm as he rubs her skin. She adjusts her position and presents her ass, waiting for another blow.
“No more,” Ethan growls.
“I’m fine,” she assures him.
“I’m not. I need to fuck you right now.” He pulls on her shoulder, making her sit back. “Stand up.”
She does as she’s told, her eyes focused on the floor.
“Take the rest of your clothes off.”
Silently, she lets her white cotton panties slide to the floor then tugs her t-shirt over her head.
“Good girl. Now, get this ass upstairs. I’m not finished with you yet.”
Olivia’s body thrums with excitement. She can feel him a half step behind her, all the way up the stairs. His body pushes against her as he eagerly steers her toward the bedroom. The smell of alcohol reaches her, as his breathing becomes heavier. It triggers memories inside her, which are best left buried. When they reach the doorway and the bed comes in to view, her heart pounds once; then seems to completely stop beating at all. Ethan turns her and nibbles along her neck and jaw, making his way to her lips. She closes her eyes, trying to ignore the strong smell of alcohol still on his breath. As he deepens the kiss, she can taste the whiskey on his tongue. She tries to pull away and get some air, but he won’t release her. She struggles, finally breaking free. He grabs for her, and forcefully ushers her by the elbow into the room.
A ghost of a grin appears as he advances, backing her up against the bed. She’s seen that darkness in his eyes before, and it unsettles her. She wants to put a stop to this right now, but she can’t seem to move. Ethan is so immersed in play that he’s not yet tuned in to her distress.
He unzips his trousers, releasing the pressure off his throbbing cock. His need is so strong that he doesn’t even waste time in taking them off. Grabbing her, he forces her down on the bed. She rolls to her stomach as he climbs on behind her. Taking hold of her ankles, he drags her back, admiring the still red imprint of his hand on her skin. He growls, reaching forward, tangling his hand in her hair and tugging it firmly, forcing her up and onto her hands and knees.
Dark memories invade her thoughts, dragging her back in time, but her body betrays her, aching for release. She lets out a small moan as he enters her, and sets a hard and punishing rhythm. That night circles her subconscious and she desperately tries to fight it. He leans forward, talking dirty in her ear, the stench of stale alcohol still on his breath. That’s it. That’s the trigger. The darkness masks her tears. She can’t stay here; she needs to put a stop to this. She turns to look at him and tries to voice her fear, but nothing comes out. For a brief moment Sam’s voice echoes through her brain. Frantic, she tries to sit up but Ethan pushes against her back hard, forcing her against the mattress and holding here there. The line between conscious and subconscious thoughts becomes cloudy, and her hands clench the sheets so tightly her knuckles turn white from lack of blood flow.
Completely engrossed in desire and pleasure, Ethan grabs her hair, forcing her head up so he can see her face. The pained and tortured tracks of fallen tears are barely visible in the dimly lit room. At that moment, he becomes aware of the darkness that’s consumed her. “Olivia?”
Slowly, she turns and as her damp lashes flutter open, it’s Sam’s face that she sees. Terror strikes at her viciously and she finally finds her voice. “Red,” she pants through stuttered breath.
Ethan’s heart jumps to his throat and he lets go of her hair as she begins to struggle and lash out at him. “RED!” she screams. “RED!”
Ethan reaches for her, edging her into a dangerously vulnerable position. He tries to keep his voice calm, low. “Olivia, it’s me, Ethan. You’re safe, Baby.”
She fights him and crawls across the bed to escape his reach. Ethan is horrified, helpless. It’s as if she’s having a full on nightmare while she’s fully awake. Sliding to the end of the bed, her feet hit the floor.
“Sweetheart, talk to me.” He moves to the door hindering her exit and hoping it will snap her out of it. When he lifts his hand to try and smooth her hair away from her eyes, she winces as if he had hit her full force in the face. Her look of fear and agony makes his blood run cold. There’s nothing he can do while she’s in this space. Defenseless, he stands aside and lets her go.
He hesitates, feeling like he should leave her alone, but he can’t stand the thought of it. He hurries down the stairs, afraid that she’ll try to leave. When he gets to the bottom, he finds her dressed and sitting with her feet on the edge of the couch, knees bent to her chest, her head leaning forward on them. Her arms are wrapped around her legs, holding them. Tears still stream down her cheeks but her expression is empty. Vacant.
“Olivia?” Nervously, he moves toward her, unsure how she’s going to react. “Please talk to me.” He sits beside her and touches her arm, hoping for any kind of acknowledgement. He lets out an emotional breath, feeling helpless and completely consumed by guilt. “I’m sorry.”
She lifts her head and sniffles. “You did nothing wrong.” Lifting her hand, she wipes a tear from his cheek. Turning his body, he wraps his arms around her, lifting her onto his lap. Resting against his chest, the repetitive pattern of his breathing settles her. Her tense body begins to relax as she rests her cheek against his shoulder. He strokes her hair, silently consoling her. He knows there’s nothing he can say to make it better. He can’t go back in time and stop her from being hurt. What’s happening right now is all his fault. What he can do, is prevent her from reliving the pain in the future. He has to fix this, but not right now. Right now, he’ll just sit here, holding her for as long as she needs him to.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Olivia sits at the booth that Ethan reserves for himself, trying to hide her look of disappointment. She called him several times today and left messages, but he’s avoiding her. She needs to talk about what happened last night. He was her rock, her knight. After her total break down, he sat and held her, comforting her, making sure that she was okay. Then she felt it. Something changed in him; a shift in their energy that’s been haunting her all day long.
Cindy walks by several times, each time, giving her a sympathetic look. “Did you want to order something while you wait?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“I’m sure he’s on his way, something must have come up.”
Olivia nods, looking disenchanted. “He’s a busy man.”
Cindy puts her hand on her shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “Whatever it is, you guys will work through it.”
“I’m not so sure this time, Cindy.”
“Have faith. Not many couples could have survived what you’ve been through. If you were meant to falter, it would have been a long time ago. Maybe he just needs some space?”
A single tear trickles down her cheek. “Perhaps.”
“I see that asshole has made you cry, again.”
“Noah.” Cindy gives Olivia an awkward side-glance and silently takes her leave.
Olivia frowns. “I take it things didn’t work out between you two.”
“Things got in the way.”
“Things? Let me guess. Was one of those things a blonde hooker with a Russian accent?”
Noah holds his hand over his heart. “Ouch!”
Olivia lowers her head in shame. “I�
��m sorry, Noah. That was uncalled for.”
Noah invites himself to sit, forcing her to move over.
“I deserved that, I suppose. She’s a hard habit to break.”
“Whatever makes you happy.”
Noah places his finger under her chin and lifts her gaze. “I feel the same way about you. But you’re not happy.”
“We’re very happy, Noah.”
“Right. That’s why he’s nowhere to be found, and you’re sitting here crying. You forget that I’ve known you a long time. I know when you’re lying. So why don’t you tell me what’s really going on.”
Olivia swallows hard. “This thing with Sam,” she says ashamed.
Noah waits patiently for her to explain.
“There are things that have come out. Things I don’t remember.”
“Like?”
Olivia lowers her gaze and fiddles with the napkin in her lap. “I was raped.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Yesterday, they told me that they got the results of the DNA testing back. They didn’t match. It wasn’t Sam.”
“What?” he says shocked.
“I lost consciousness after he knocked me around. I have no memory of it at all. Everybody just assumed that it was him.” She pauses, taking an emotional breath. “Finishing the job.”
“But you said the DNA results don’t match?”
“No. According to the comparison of the DNA taken the night I was hospitalized, and the sample Sam just provided, there’s no way that it was him.
“And you have no memory of it, at all?”
“None.”
“Oh, baby girl. I’m so sorry.”
“Since I’ve been home, the memories haunt me. I relive that night in my dreams. I fight, and scream, and hope that someone will come save me. But it always ends the same.”
Noah wraps his arms around her, squeezing her tightly. “Yesterday,” she continues. “Ethan came home from work a little riled up, and one thing led to another.”
He takes a troubled breath. “Did he hurt you?”
“No. We ended up in the bedroom and it got a little tense. My thoughts kept flashing back to that night. Before I knew it, I was starting to panic.”
“Surely O’Connell knew what was happening?”
“Yes, he knows me in ways that I never thought anyone could. He can sense my anxiety; he knows what I need when I need it. He’s perfect for me.” Olivia wipes her hands across her face. “But last night, before I even knew what was happening myself, I completely freaked out.”
“You’ve been through a lot. That’s bound to happen sometimes.”
“If you could have seen his face, Noah. He was horrified. Now I think that he feels like he’s somehow caused me this pain. That he’s to blame.”
“He’ll get over. I may hate the bastard, but I can’t deny that he loves you. Where is he now?”
Olivia shrugs. “Dealing with his own demons, I guess.”
“So what happens next?”
“Sam pleads guilty to assault charges and bargains with the prosecutor for minimal jail time.”
“So you have no idea, who it was that…” He hesitates, not able to bring himself to say the word.
“I have no idea. The only thing I remember is that when I saw him, I stopped being afraid. I thought he was there to help me. Save me.” The words stick in her throat. “Then everything went black.”
“The mind is a very powerful thing, Olivia. If you haven’t remembered, it’s because you’re not meant to. It’s protecting you.”
“A stranger walked into my house, found me nearly unconscious and did that to me. And he’s going to get away with it. How do I ever come to terms with that? How do I ever get closure?”
“You do the best you can. One day at a time, like you have for the past three years. And… you lean on your friends when you need to.” He pulls her closer, tucking her safely under her arm, and places a kiss on the top of her head. “And right now… you’re going to dance with me.”
“I’m really not in the mood to dance, Noah.”
He gets to his feet and extends his hand. “You’ll feel better. It’ll be just like old times.”
Reluctantly she follows him to the dance floor and turns to place her hands on his shoulders. “Just like old times.” She laughs. “Except now there’s a beach ball between us.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed.” Noah loosens his grip and leaves her some room. “It’s a good look on you. Very sexy.”
“Stop it. I feel like a whale.”
“Apparently, I’m attracted to large fish.”
“Awesome, if I buy a blonde wig and learn to speak Russian we’d be perfect for each other.”
“Touché. You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
“Not a chance.”
A few moments in to the soft slow dance and Olivia relaxes into Noah’s arms.
“Feeling better?” he whispers, as she leans her cheek against his chest.
“Yes.” She closes her eyes, letting him guide her through the gentle rhythm. A wave of anxiety suddenly washes over her. She feels his presence. Her eyes flutter open to find him standing there. Her body tenses and her feet stop moving. Noah faces the opposite direction, but he knows from her sharp intake of breath, that he’s there.
“Ethan,” she whispers.
Noah releases her, turning to take a protective stance. “Don’t make a scene, O’Connell. It’s just a dance.”
Ethan says nothing. He just stands there in the dark, staring. Olivia waits for some kind of reaction from him: angry expletives, physical violence. Anything. His hands hang calm, motionless at his sides. It’s worse than anything she expected. In fact, the absence of a reaction is almost unbearable. She’s hurt him; she can see it in his face. The thought stabs at her heart like a sharp knife, over and over again.
He stands silently, resigned to the fact that she’ll always run to Noah Thompson. It’s with him that she finds comfort and security. He makes her feel safe.
She deserves those things. He brings her fear and insecurity. Every moment that he’s around her, with his intractable Irish temper, is dangerous for her. She’ll never be able to heal. He’s never loved anyone but Olivia. He never will. But Eva is right, sometimes when you love someone enough, you have to make tough decisions. Sticking around is putting his child at risk.
The unmistakable expression of defeat flashes across his face as he takes a step backward.
“No! Ethan wait!” Olivia tries to push past Noah, but he holds his arm out, stopping her from chasing after him.
“Let him go.”
“I can’t.”
He holds her a moment, thinking about it, then lets his arm down, releasing her. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Olivia pushes her way through the crowd and into the bar, but Ethan is nowhere in sight.
“Olivia.” A voice calls from across the bar. She makes her way across the room. “Cindy, have you seen Ethan,” she pants, out of breath.
“Yes, I just saw him go out the front door.”
She rushes after him, out into the cold night air. She locates his car in the parking lot and hurries toward it. “Where the hell is he?” She asks out loud when she finds the car empty and the doors locked. Frantically, she looks around, trying to find him. The headlights of a passing car shine light along the side of the building revealing somebody there. She head toward the dark laneway, hoping that it’s him. Her eyes take a few moments to adjust to the darkness. “Ethan?” she calls out. “Is that you?”
“Go back inside, Olivia.” His voice is cold and callous. She’s not sure if it’s that or the cool night air that makes her shiver.
“I’m sorry. I know it must have upset you to see me with Noah.”
“That’s not it.” On the contrary, seeing her with Noah helped him to make his decision.
“Then tell me what’s wrong,” she demands.
He pauses, looking tormented. “Why did
you marry me?”
“Because I love you.”
“Not because the psychic says we’re supposed to be together?”
“Oh my God. No! I felt it all along. Even when I was unsure, it was you that insisted we belonged together. There’s no denying that we’re soul mates.”
“But you’ve had doubts, concerns.”
“At first, yes. Not now.”
She shivers and he growls in frustration. Taking off his jacket, he wraps it around her shoulders. “I need you to start taking better care of yourself. It’s almost winter, you should be wearing a coat.”
“I wasn’t planning on running around out in the parking lot. Besides, it’s your job to look after me now.”
Ethan adjusts his stance and says nothing.
“Ethan?” she questions, nervously. “You’re going to look after me, right?”
“I’ve told you before, that I want to be in your life to make it better, not to make it worse.”
“Yes.”
“It doesn’t seem to be working out that way.” He can’t bear to look at her. Turning his head, he stares off into the distance.
His silence is agony to her. She takes a step toward him, desperately searching his face for answers. He won’t look directly at her, but even in the lack of light, she can see that his normally meadow green eyes are despondent and dark. A dim shade of grey haunts them and it frightens her. “I’m trying to work through it. Please don’t give up on me,” she pleads.
She reaches for him and he moves away. Anxiety stings at her heart, as if it’s been thrown into the centre of an angry hornets nest. She realizes at this moment that she really doesn’t want to know what’s going on. This is bad. This is really bad. If only he would let her comfort him. She can be strong for him like he has been for her so many times. She needs to wrap her arms around him and assure him that she’ll keep him safe; that she loves him.
She makes another move toward him. “Ethan, please look at me,” she begs.
He glances at her for a brief moment and then looks away again.
“Whatever it is, remember what you said to me.” She reaches for him. “We can figure it out, together. Please just tell me what’s going on?”