"Sometimes he'd hit me, too, although usually he just ignored me. And I tried to keep Rheanne quiet, so he wouldn't have a reason to yell. So he wouldn't hurt her, too.
"It became harder to hide from him as I got older. What worried me more than the yelling and hitting, though, was when—" she took a sip of coffee, continued to stare into the cup "—when he started paying attention to me. He'd look at me and he'd smile at me, and I'm not sure I understood why it scared me, but it did. There was something about the look in his eyes that didn't seem right.
"Sometimes he'd come into the bathroom while I was in the tub, or into my bedroom while I was changing. And he'd watch me. If I locked the door, he'd hit me. Then he started touching me."
Somehow he'd known this revelation was coming, yet he couldn't prevent the churning in the pit of his stomach, or the burning rage and helplessness.
"He never—" she swallowed "—he never raped me. But what he did was bad enough."
Shaun didn't know what to say or do. He was appalled that this man, a man she should have been able to rely on and look up to, had abused her trust and destroyed her innocence. Shaun wanted to tell her that she had no reason to be ashamed, but he knew words would be inadequate. He wanted to hold her, but he was afraid to touch her, afraid she'd shy away from him.
"Did you tell … anyone? Your mother?"
She nodded. "I tried to, anyway. I didn't know how to explain what he was doing, and she didn't want to hear it. She said only little girls with naughty secrets locked their doors. And when I told her I didn't like the way he touched me, she said he was only showing me that he loved me and…" Her voice faltered, but she drew a deep breath and forged ahead. "She told me I should be grateful that he was able to love me as if I was his own daughter."
"Jesus." Shaun couldn't hold back his anger any longer. "How could she not have known?"
"She didn't want to know." Arden tried to shrug, but the movement was stiff. "Then Aunt Tess brought Nikki out for a visit, for my tenth birthday. I don't think she was there two days before she figured out the situation. Gavin had bought me a new dress for my birthday, and he insisted on helping me try it on. Aunt Tess came into my room while I was undressed and found him there.
"She tried to talk to my mother about it. I overheard them arguing. My mother called her a liar and a troublemaker and told her to get out of her house.
"The next morning Aunt Tess came back and threatened to file for legal custody of me and Rheanne. My mother consented to her taking me. I think she was starting to believe that there was something unnatural in my relationship with my stepfather, but it was obviously my fault.
"She fought to keep Rheanne, though. After all, she was Gavin's daughter, and she was still in love with Gavin. I was terrified that Rheanne would have to stay in that house, and that he'd do to her what he'd done to me."
"What happened to her?"
"I don't know. Aunt Tess contacted Family Services to take Rheanne into protective custody until Tess could be approved as a foster mother. But when she followed up with the agency, Rheanne was already gone." Arden blinked away the tears that filled her eyes. "She'd been adopted."
"Do you know where she is now?"
Arden looked away. "No."
"What happened to Gavin? Did he go to jail?"
"No, I … he was never charged. The prosecutor who interviewed me didn't think I'd make a … a credible witness."
"Why not?" Shaun couldn't help but feel outraged on her behalf.
"Because I didn't want to talk about what he'd done. I didn't think anyone would believe me. My own mother didn't believe me."
"Is she still with your stepfather?"
"As far as I know. I haven't even heard from her in years."
"At least you had your aunt Tess."
Arden nodded. "Yes. And she understood that the only thing that really mattered to me at the time was getting out of that house so he couldn't hurt me anymore."
"And that's when she brought you back to Fairweather."
She nodded again. "For all intents and purposes, that's when my life began. I try not to think about anything that happened before I came to live with her and Nikki. But I know I won't ever forget."
"I'm sorry," Shaun said. "Not just about everything that happened, but for making you talk about it."
Her shrug was a little more natural this time. "I've wanted to tell you. I know you deserved to know the truth, but I was afraid."
"Why?"
She took a deep breath. "The first time I ever had sex … I was seventeen years old and determined to take back control of my body. And my life. It was a disaster. I don't imagine any 'first' sexual experience is ideal, especially when you're seventeen," she admitted. "But after that I was convinced I wouldn't be missing anything if I never had sex again.
"And it wasn't until law school that I did. It was a little better, but I know I was still uncomfortable. It was an effort to remember that the hands touching me weren't my stepfather's, that I wanted them on me—or was supposed to, anyway.
"Brad didn't seem to mind that I wasn't very enthusiastic in the bedroom. He just thought I was inexperienced. He even talked about us getting married, so I thought I should tell him about my … past."
She got up to pour more coffee.
"When I told him, he didn't want me anymore. I was, to use his words, 'damaged goods.' He preferred to think I was frigid than to know what had been done to me."
The rage simmering inside Shaun started to boil, threatened to spill over. He clamped a lid on his emotions, knowing that Arden didn't need to deal with those on top of everything else she'd been through.
"I haven't been with anyone else since then," she told him. "I hadn't wanted to. Until you."
He swallowed. He'd been her first lover in six years? No wonder she'd seemed hesitant in the beginning, surprised by the intensity of her own responses. It awed him, that she'd given him the gift of herself, and it terrified him to think that his touch might bring back unpleasant memories for her.
He cleared his throat, afraid to ask but needing to know. "Is it … uh … okay … when we … make love?"
Arden glanced away again, soft color rising in her cheeks. "It's more than okay. When I'm with you, I don't have to make a conscious effort to shut out the bad memories. Just being with you does that for me."
It boggled his mind to think about everything she'd been through, and how she'd managed to use her experience to become a stronger and better person. "That's why you do what you do, isn't it?" he asked. "You want to help the women and children who can't help themselves." Women like her mother; children like she had been.
She nodded again. "It matters to me to be able to make a difference for someone. And that," she added, with forced casualness, "is the sordid story of my life."
"Is that what you thought would change the way I feel about you?"
"Doesn't it?" she asked.
"No. Yes."
She almost smiled. Her lips started to curve, then trembled, and he saw the sheen of moisture in her eyes.
"What you told me only reinforces what I already knew—that you're an incredible woman. You survived a hell that no child should ever have to endure, and you made yourself into a woman that anyone would be proud of."
"I can't forget," she said softly. "I try so hard to block it all out sometimes, and then I feel guilty for forgetting the good parts." She picked up the photograph again.
"I love you, Arden. I love everything about you."
She did manage to smile this time. "You keep telling me that, I might start to believe it."
"I'm counting on it," he told her. And he was counting on her realizing that love was a positive emotion, and that he would never use his love to hurt her.
"I still need time, Shaun."
"I know," he admitted. "And I'm trying to be patient."
"What if I'm never ready for this?"
"You will be," he said. The fact that she'd opened up to him about her pa
st proved that she was beginning to trust him, and he knew their relationship could only grow stronger. "And I can be patient a little while longer."
"What will happen when your patience runs out?"
"Then we'll get married."
"What?"
He grinned. "You're the woman I'm going to spend the rest of my life with," he told her. "And I want to have a family with you. Since I tend to be a traditionalist in certain matters, I'll want you to marry me first."
"Anything else you want?" she asked dryly.
"Maybe a dog, but that's negotiable."
* * *
Saturday, when Arden opened the morning newspaper, a letter fell onto the kitchen table.
Shaun, thankfully, was in the shower, and she just stood there—she didn't know for how long—staring blankly at the white envelope with her name inscribed on the front in blood-red ink.
She didn't want to touch the envelope. If she picked it up, if she held it in her hand, it would have to be real. She didn't want it to be. She didn't want to deal with this anymore.
Tears of anger and frustration filled her eyes, tightened her throat, immobilized her. She felt the scream build inside, tearing its way to her throat, clawing for release. She fought it back, battered it down. She couldn't lose control. She couldn't fall apart. She couldn't let Shaun know.
After their discussion the previous day, Arden had let herself believe that she and Shaun might have a future together. His acceptance of her past had helped her see through the fog of painful memories and focus on what mattered—the present.
This letter changed everything.
She heard the water shut off and knew Shaun would be downstairs in a few minutes. She grabbed the envelope and stuffed it into the pocket of her robe. Then she sat down because she wasn't sure her legs would continue to support her.
Somehow she made it through the day without revealing her inner turmoil. Shaun knew she was distracted, edgy, but he probably figured she was still upset that he'd opened the box of photos. It was easier to let him believe that than to admit the truth.
She was more than scared now. She was terrified. Whoever was sending the letters knew that she was staying with Shaun, which meant that he might be in danger. She couldn't bear to think that he might get caught in the crossfire.
And that was when she knew she had to leave.
She couldn't go back to Nikki and Colin's. No way would she put her cousin's family at risk, either. The only choice she had was to deal with this threat on her own.
She knew he wouldn't accept her decision easily, but she was determined to make her intentions clear. And if she had to hurt him to do so, well, she'd rather have him hate her than have him end up dead.
She came down to the kitchen with her briefcase in hand, the ominous letter tucked safely away inside.
"Where are you going?" Shaun asked.
"To the office," she said, as if it was perfectly normal for her to go to work early on a Saturday morning. A few weeks ago it had been. Shaun had changed everything for her.
"I didn't think you had any appointments today." He poured a mug of coffee, added a splash of milk, and handed it to her.
She hesitated for a second before accepting the offering. "I have things to do, and I need some space."
"Space?" he echoed, uncomprehending. "You can work in the den if you need space."
"I need some personal space. I'm starting to feel crowded here."
* * *
Personal space? Crowded? What was she talking about? Then suddenly he knew. She was trying to brush him off. What he didn't know was—why?
"What's going on, Arden?"
She shrugged, set her untouched mug of coffee aside. "I can't do this anymore, McIver."
"Do what?" He knew what she was trying to say, but he wasn't going to make it easy for her. If she was planning to walk, she'd better damned well explain why.
"This. Us."
"What's the problem?"
"It's getting too intense."
"Too intense?" he echoed, wondering at the emptiness in his heart. He'd told her that he loved her, and she was backing away because his feelings were too intense? "I never figured you'd be the type of person to walk away from something just because it wasn't easy."
"This isn't what I wanted. I told you that right from the beginning."
"Well, this is what you got."
"I'm going to look at an apartment this afternoon."
"Do you think I'm just going to let you move out? Walk away as if none of this matters?"
"It's not your decision to make," she said coolly.
"Like hell it isn't." He practically snarled the words at her, but he didn't care. He wasn't in a mood to handle this diplomatically.
"Save the macho routine for someone who might appreciate it."
"You're not going to brush me off that easily."
"I'm not going to fight with you about this," Arden said. "I'm just telling you the way it is."
"And I'm telling you that this isn't finished."
"It is for me."
That hurt, so much more than he was willing to admit.
"Well then, we'll just say I'm not done with you."
"Back off, McIver."
"I don't think so." Anger and frustration propelled him toward her. She backed away, her eyes reflecting wariness … and desire. Yeah, she might say it was over. She might want it to be over. But it wasn't over between them. Not by a long shot.
She continued to match every step of his advance with one in retreat, until her back was against the wall. Then she lifted her chin, her eyes flashing. Before she could speak, before she could say anything else that he knew would only piss him off even more, he cupped the back of her head with his hand and captured her mouth with his.
He wasn't a man who acted on impulse. He was a thinker, a planner. But dammit if Arden didn't go straight to his blood. She struggled against the kiss. He'd expected no less. But he was relentless, demanding, and suddenly she wasn't fighting any longer. She was kissing him back.
Bodies crushed together, breaths mingled, tongues tangled. He wasn't proud of his own behavior, but he was satisfied with the results.
It was finished for her? Like hell, it was.
She pulled away from him, her breath coming in harsh and ragged gasps. "I don't appreciate being manhandled."
"You still want me as much as I want you."
"One kiss doesn't prove anything." But her icy reserve had melted, and she looked shaken, scared.
"Don't go, Arden. Please." He hated that he was begging, but he'd get down on his hands and knees if it would make her change her mind. He still didn't understand what had precipitated this sudden decision, but he knew he couldn't accept it. If she walked out of his life, she'd take his heart with her.
"I have to."
Was it his imagination, or did she actually sound regretful?
"Why?"
She shook her head. "It's over. It has to be."
Then she walked out, and he just stood there staring at the door she closed behind her.
* * *
Arden made it to the end of the block before she had to pull her car over to the side of the road. She was trembling inside and blinded by the tears that burned behind her eyes. Her fingers gripped the steering wheel. She took a deep breath, tried to convince herself that it had gone well. At least she'd managed to make it out of the house before she'd fallen to pieces.
But she'd hurt him. She'd broken his heart, and she'd done it deliberately and with premeditation. It didn't matter that she'd done what she needed to do, that she'd done it to protect him. The only thing that mattered was that she'd trampled all over his emotions.
It was no consolation that she felt equally raw and battered inside. She brushed the tears from her cheeks and pulled away from the curb.
After she'd handed the letter over to Lieutenant Creighton, she did go to the office. She had nowhere else to go. But she was restless, uneasy. She couldn't sit
at her desk without remembering that someone had set a bomb in the middle of it. She couldn't stop the message in the latest letter from swimming in front of her eyes.
"THE TIME IS NEAR."
It wasn't the most blatant of the threats she'd received, but in light of what had already happened, she knew it was true. He would come for her. Soon. And the only way she could be sure of protecting Shaun would be to stay away from him.
She stayed at a hotel that night. She had nothing but the clothes on her back, but she didn't risk returning to Shaun's house to get any of her things. Not when she knew he'd be there. Her resolve wasn't that strong.
She didn't get much sleep. She tossed and turned on the lumpy mattress, missing the sound of Shaun's breathing close by, the warmth of his body next to her. It bothered her that she'd so quickly become accustomed to sharing his home, his bed. It bothered her more to know that her stalker was still out there and that he knew she'd been staying in Shaun's home. She couldn't bear it if something happened to him. She wouldn't let anything happen to him.
Did her determination to protect him mean that she loved him?
She didn't know. She didn't understand love; she didn't trust her emotions. She'd thought they could keep their relationship simple. Sex was, after all, a basic human drive. But somehow, over the past few weeks, the desires of her body had seemed to mesh with the needs of her heart. She still wanted him. She craved the fulfillment she'd only ever found in his arms. But it went so much deeper than the satisfaction of physical wants. When they came together, when their bodies joined as one, she felt a connection to him—a sense of completion she'd never before known.
Still, she didn't want to be in love with him. She couldn't afford to be irrational or irresponsible. She was the only person she had to rely on now.
* * *
Shaun tossed and turned in his empty bed. He should be used to sleeping alone, he'd done so for the better part of the past four years. But for the past four weeks, he'd gone to sleep every night with Arden tucked beside him. He'd woken with her in the morning. And he'd started to believe that it would be like that forever. Obviously, she had other ideas.
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