by Robyn Roze
“Stop! Frank, stop!” she pleaded loudly as his hand trailed to the hem of her dress, lifting it and dragging it slowly up her legs.
“I can’t, Shay. I won’t,” he warned hoarsely.
“I don’t want this, Frank. You’re better than this. I know you are. We need to talk, please,” she implored desperately as his fingers skimmed underneath her silken panties. Then she inhaled sharply from the invasion of his fingers inside her. She had never felt so completely powerless, small, and breakable. Turning her head to escape the assault, she felt the sting of his kisses on her neck and heard his groan, followed by the rumble of his self-satisfied voice in the distance.
“The time for talk has passed. It’s time for action now, and you still want me, Shay. I can feel it,” he said hotly against her flesh as he slid his fingers in and out of her, rubbing her clit with his thumb.
Shayna shook her head defiantly in protest, voice trapped, heart shattering, mind escaping body. Then she skipped her hollow eyes to the expansive bank of windows. She set her focus on the old, droopy, weeping willow tree in the distance—yielding, bending, and swaying to the force of the late afternoon wind—powerless to do anything else. Hot tears streamed in a fiery path down her cheeks, dropping to her throbbing shoulder and racing down her pinned, aching arm.
She had always hated that tree.
CHAPTER 22
Shayna swiped away the remaining tears and tried pinching some color back onto her cheeks, a contrast from her ghostly pallor. Then she raked her fingers through her hair trying to fluff and revive the blonde layers. She gasped at her reflection in the mirror. The streaked mascara, the haunted eyes staring back at her. She quivered from the punch of nausea that consumed her. Then giving up, she slammed the sun visor shut in disgust against the roof.
She gripped the steering wheel for dear life. Get it together Shayna. Sean’s inside. Don’t let him see you like this. Things will get so much worse if you do, she counseled herself repeatedly.
Her heart had dropped just moments ago when she caught sight of Sean’s car in her driveway. She should’ve known he would be waiting for her. A sudden thought had her yanking out the cell phone from her purse. Shit. Missed calls from Sean. She’d had the phone on silent mode at the attorney’s office and never changed it back. Would her ringing phone have stopped what happened with Frank? She shivered uncontrollably and felt chilled to her bones. She could feel the tears swelling and threatening to fall again. She shook her head roughly and willed it away. No, damn it! Get a grip, Shay. You can do this. Get out of the car—now, she screamed in her head.
Jumping up and out of her car before she had a chance to rethink things and make a quick getaway, she headed for the door and depressed the button to lower the garage door. She entered the mudroom, tossed her purse on a bench seat, and cautiously stepped through the archway and into the kitchen. She had been nervous that Sean would be waiting for her with immediate questions about her whereabouts, but she didn’t see him right away. Then he walked in from the terrace and she quickly pivoted, heading for the refrigerator. She knew there would be a bottle of chilled wine. Sean liked it with dinner.
“There you are! I’ve been worried, left you messages. Everything okay?”
She heard his steps getting closer and quickly grabbed a stemless wine glass from the cupboard before darting off in the opposite direction toward the terrace. It was dark. That’s what she wanted—dark. She didn’t want to see Sean and definitely didn’t want him to see her—not like this.
She placed the bottle and glass on the table and pulled out a chair. Why had she even brought a glass? Drinking right out of the bottle sounded like a better plan. As she poured herself a drink, she slopped some of the wine on the table and noticed that her hand was shaking. Sean apparently saw it too and steadied her hand with his.
“Why are drinking, Shay? What’s going on?”
The concern in his warm, deep voice pulled her from the sordid color images playing in a mind-numbing loop in her head. Her body ached and a chill ran down her spine, lifting bumps all over her skin. She didn’t even remember the drive home. It was a blur now. Sean angled a chair around so that he was closer to her. She shifted her seat so that she was looking out over Lake Indigo in all of its starlit glory—and not at him.
He reached out and touched her hand. “Shay, you’re scaring the hell out of me. Tell me what’s going on? Why couldn’t I get a hold of you at all today? Why didn’t you return any of my messages, text me, anything?”
She involuntarily jerked her hand away from his warm touch and brought the wine to her lips. She guzzled it and poured some more. Taking a few more drinks, she placed her hands in her lap holding tightly to the wine glass for balance, hoping he wouldn’t touch her again. He pried the glass from her hand, placing it and the wine bottle on the other side of the table.
“Now, Shayna. Tell me now.”
Her head felt like a mass of colliding chaos. Where to start? What to tell? What to leave out? Oh she knew which parts to leave out—for sure. “I don’t own the land I thought I did.” The words just spilled out. It didn’t even sound like her voice to her.
Sean’s head cocked, his expression quizzical. “What do you mean?”
She swallowed and felt the wine burning away a bit of the cold in her veins. “Problem with the chain of title. The mortgage hasn’t been released on my acreage. I can’t move forward with my plans until it’s cleared up.”
“How the hell did that happen? Is that why Karol Simpson wanted to meet with you today?” Shayna only nodded, still not looking at Sean. “I’m sure your ex had the best team of lawyers his money could buy.” He paused for a moment, and then flopped back in his seat. “It’s no mistake, right? It was intentional,” Sean said with an angry sigh. “That sonofabitch. Well, he doesn’t have a leg to stand on, it only delays your plans temporarily. Does he really want to pay more legal fees?”
Shayna hugged herself tight as the chill from the very words she had asked only hours ago came back to haunt her with frightening clarity.
“I don’t know,” she answered despondently.
Sean inched closer, trying to get a better look at her, but she kept glancing away or down, anywhere but at him. “Wait a minute,” he said suspiciously. Shayna could hear Sean’s sudden realization slam home, hard and fast. “You went to see him today, didn’t you? After you finished with Karol, right?” There was loathing in his voice.
“Are you involved with the properties he’s been losing, the loans that have been called?” she asked in a small voice. Once again, he sank back into his seat, fingers drumming an angry beat on the tabletop.
“I can’t believe you went to see him. Your lawyer should be handling it, not you. There’s no reason for you to see him, Shayna.”
Her insides spasmed and her heart ached at the truth in his words. She should’ve called Sean right away after leaving the attorney’s office. He would’ve talked her down from going to Frank’s, or at least he would’ve tried. Maybe that’s why she hadn’t called him. Her stubbornness and raw anger probably would have overridden his rational advice anyway.
“Answer my question, Sean. A simple yes or no will do,” she said evenly.
He remained quiet for a bit before finally speaking.
“Do you really think a man like Frank Chastain got to where he is by playing nice?”
Shayna turned to look at Sean for the first time since arriving home. “What kind of answer is that?” She tried to read him through the murky shadows, but couldn’t. “Is that your way of saying yes?” Her stomach began to churn.
Sean brought his hand up; elbow perched on the table, and began smoothing his fist just above his upper lip. He was clearly deciding what to divulge and what to withhold.
“Your ex has some IOU’s that have come due in the last year or so that have nothing to do with me.” He went silent as if that should be answer enough.
Shayna’s chest tightened. “You still haven’t answered m
y question, not directly. Yes or no, Sean,” she said coolly.
“Frank Chastain has some nasty friends, Shay. They’ve come to collect.”
Shayna shook her head in exasperation. “How in the hell would you know that, Sean?”
The way he sat back in the shadows began to unnerve her. Then he angled forward out of the darkness and across the corner of the table. The expression that tightened his face caused her momentary panic.
“Because mine are even nastier,” he warned, through tight lips.
She inhaled sharply as a hot blast of awareness brought her squarely into the present moment. “How...why do you know people like that?” she asked tentatively.
He considered the question before answering. “Let’s just say I inherited them, and leave it at that. That’s all you need to know. All I want you to know—ever,” he said sternly.
“So the answer is yes, then. You are involved in what’s been going on.” He remained still and didn’t answer. “You’re hurting more people than just Frank, you know. This affects my brother, too. His business. The work that’s been delayed, stopped, handed off to different contractors and subs.” She looked away shaking her head in disbelief as the pieces fell in place. “And what exactly are you going owe these friends of yours? Huh? When does it end? Why would you do this?”
“I’m not going to owe anything. I’ve called in favors owed to me.”
Shayna’s heart began to race as a sense of dread threatened to smother her. “What have you done to earn these kinds of favors, Sean?” She didn’t know if she really wanted to hear the answer.
He ignored her question. “Don’t forget that your ex started this. He shouldn’t have picked a fight he wasn’t sure he could win.”
“He’s going to figure this out, Sean.”
He chuckled at her words and then he stopped smiling. “Frank Chastain has a false sense of who he is. He’s just a big fish in a little pond—and I’m the shark he didn’t see coming.”
“Why are you doing this?” she asked fearfully.
His answer suggested he’d read the worry in her eyes. “I promise I will never hurt you, Shayna. Ever. But I will make no promises about how far I will go to keep you, to keep him out of our lives.”
A stuttered breath rushed past her trembling lips. “But you are hurting me. Don’t you see that? You’re undoubtedly causing stress on Jack’s business, and so many other people that work for him and Frank. What about Danielle? CCL is supposed to be her legacy,” she said angrily, on the verge of tears.
Shayna bolted up from the chair and immediately regretted it. The wine on an empty stomach, her aching body, and her shattered confidence were a dizzying combination. She bobbled and Sean tried to steady her, but she recoiled from his touch, waving him off. As she made her way back inside to the warm fireplace, Sean grabbed her arm and she shrieked from the pain radiating out from her shoulder.
Sean’s hands immediately shot up. “Whoa. What’s going on, Shay?” He cut her path off, quickly stepping in front of her. She wouldn’t look at him as she cradled her arm. “What the hell—” he blurted with alarm in his voice as he grasped her forearms and extended them in front of her, his hands slowly skimming down to her wrists. He saw the bruises. She slammed her eyes shut and dropped her head. She could feel palpable menace rolling off him, scaring her. He gently brought her wrists together, lining up the bruises, piecing together the puzzle. She already knew that he had figured it out.
“What did he do to you, Shay,” he said with barely restrained rage. She kept her head down, but he tilted her chin up to face him. “Look at me, Shay,” he begged softly. A lone tear trailed down her cheek and he tenderly brushed it away. He moved closer into her space. “Open your eyes. Look at me.” She shook her head. He grasped her face and gently stroked her temples. “Do it, Shay. Do it,” he whispered with a hint of desperation.
Slowly, apprehensively, bit by little bit, she opened her mournful eyes to him. His eyes locked onto hers and read the story in them. His breathing became shallow and his face hardened as his eyes filled with pain and then fury.
He shook his head. “No,” he said in a wary hushed tone, “No.” He paused and breathed deeply a couple of times, attempting to control his emotions. “There’s more of these...aren’t there?” Once again, she looked away, closing her eyes, and nodded her head shamefully. “I will fucking kill him.” He breathed the words out like fire.
“No!” Shayna yelled, pushing away from him. “Don’t even say that. Don’t you dare, Sean.”
“Then you’d damned well better go to the police. I’ll take you myself.” She began shaking her head frantically. “If you don’t make him pay for this, I will. You can count on it,” he said with a brutality that frightened her.
“I’m not going to the police! I don’t ever want Danielle to know about this! I just want to forget it. Leave it alone, Sean. I mean it,” she warned through clenched teeth.
“Maybe it’s time Danielle found out just what kind of man her father really is,” he countered angrily.
Shayna slapped him hard across the face. She saw his stunned expression and then glanced to her trembling hand, the palm tinged red and stinging from the blow. Then she pointed her finger at him. “This is my decision to make not yours! If you love me at all, you won’t say another word and you sure as hell won’t do what you’re thinking about.” She took a few quick breaths, her adrenaline suddenly flowing. “Now leave. I want to be alone.” She backed away from him tentatively and then turned and fled up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door shut.
She ran to her bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind her, sliding down and sinking to the cool tiles beneath her. None of this seemed real. Nothing that happened today made sense or fit into the world she had known up until today. Shayna absently toed off her heels and worked her way slowly back up on her feet. She moved to stand in front of her full-length mirror and stared at the stranger in it.
Then she ignored the pain in her shoulders and wrists to unzip the back of her dress. Letting the garment drop from her body, she closed her eyes and stepped out of it. Taking a few deep breaths, she eventually opened her eyes. She gasped at first, and then the tears started flowing. It was real. It had really happened. The bruises marked her body and told the filthy story. She looked away in disgust shaking her head mournfully.
She stepped into the shower and waited in a corner until the water heated up. It could never be hot enough to wash away everything. She already knew that for certain. If only she could start this day over. If only she had never gone to see Frank. How could she have been so wrong about a man she had known for over half her life and had a child with? A man who, up until today, had always been respectful of her wishes and her body?
How could she ever reconcile it?
Her mirthless chuckle echoed in the oversized shower. Finding him in bed with another woman was nothing compared to this. That heartbreak, she now knew, was a mere bump in the road. This, what had happened today, was a complete and utter washout. Devastating beyond words or any emotions she had ever experienced.
Standing broken under the hot water, Shayna pressed her fingers hard against her eyes, trying to keep the tears inside. She hated crying, and always had. This was probably one of those times when she should cry, but she just didn’t want to give in to it. She wanted some control over the heavy emotions threatening to crush her right now.
The bathroom door splintering as it crashed open, caused her to jump and scream. She heard heavy steps and then the shower door opened, steam billowing out. There stood Sean in the mist. He stared despairingly at her, as if he himself had been broken. She looked away, turning and attempting to cover her body as he surveyed the damage. Sure, it was stupid, he had seen every square inch of her naked many, many times, but right now she felt so humiliated, so fragile. Just one little push and she knew she would fall right over the edge.
Then he shocked her by stepping into the shower—fully clothed. Still wearin
g his maroon button down shirt, black dress pants and expensive Italian shoes, he gently guided her reluctant mind and body to him, and then encircled her in the tender strength and protection of his arms. The hot water spilled over their bodies, and the steam cloaked them as he cradled her even closer, his heart knocking loudly against her ear, beating for both of them. No words were spoken, but so much was said. She wrapped her arms around him and held on desperately, as the mounting pressure in her chest exploded, erupting into heaving sobs. She had only ever felt this kind of abysmal emptiness once before in her life, only cried gut-wrenching tears like this once before.
Wes...when Wes had died.
She had curled up in a ball in the corner of their tiny bedroom, her face buried in his pillow—still fresh with his scent, and cried uncontrollably for hours the day the state trooper had knocked on the door and forever altered the course of her life. A part of her died that day, too. That’s what this felt like—a death, of sorts.
She just wasn’t sure whose, yet.
CHAPTER 23
The low hum vibrating in the distance woke him. Lifting his head from the pillow to track the location of the sound, he glanced down at Shayna snuggled tightly against his chest. She was finally sleeping peacefully, after thrashing, kicking, and crying in her sleep most of the night. The noise he heard again was definitely coming from downstairs. Sean dropped his lips to Shayna’s temple and kissed her softly as he began carefully unwrapping his arms and legs from hers. She sighed and mumbled something incoherent before falling blessedly silent again. He tucked the sheets and comforter around her trying to trap his warmth inside with her. Reaching out, he stroked her hair gingerly, before turning and making a silent exit, drawing the door shut quietly behind him. He padded quickly down the stairs wearing only his black drawstring pajama bottoms.