Jensen’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Are you sure that’s all that happened?”
I toed the dirt with my boot. “I might have touched her cheek.”
The narrowing of Jensen’s eyes turned into a confused squint. “You touched her cheek?”
I ran a hand through my hair as I turned to face the pasture in front of us. “She had some dirt on her cheek, and I brushed it off. She didn’t jump or anything. But I’m wondering if that freaked her out.” The desire to punch the wooden fence in front of me was strong. How the hell could I get through to Tessa if I didn’t know what things would trigger her and make her run?
I spun back to face Jensen. “Do you know what happened to her?” Walker had said Jensen didn’t know anything, but I wasn’t so sure. And I needed all the help and insight I could get.
Sympathy filled Jensen’s expression. “No.” I just stared harder. “Not for sure. All I know is someone hurt her. I’m guessing it was a man because she shies away from them.”
Rage pulsed through my veins at the thought of someone touching Tessa in a way intended to hurt. I fisted my hands tighter, my hat crumpling.
“You’re gonna need to keep that anger in check if you want a chance with Tessa. She sees any hint of that, she’ll be gone so fast your head will spin.”
I released my death grip on the hat. “I know.”
Jensen blew out a long breath. “I’m honestly surprised Tessa’s let you in as much as she has. Walker has been trying for almost two years to get her to open up. Hoping she’ll start to trust him and tell him what happened so he can help.”
A quick flare of jealousy spiked. I tamped it down. Walker was just trying to help. And he was also so far gone for Taylor, it wasn’t even funny. I knew he didn’t see Tessa in that way. But still, I wanted to be the one Tessa let through those walls. The one she trusted with her story.
Jensen gripped my shoulder. “Walker hasn’t even gotten her to be in a room alone with him, not even at one of our family dinners when she knows the rest of us are nearby. Obviously, some part of her wants to trust you.”
I scrubbed a hand over my jaw. “I want to help her. I just don’t know how. What should I do? Or not do. I feel like I’m walking through a minefield with no map, just praying I won’t hit a trip wire.”
“You do better with her than you think. Taylor told me how you navigated getting her out here today. Challenging her comfort zone but not pushing too far.”
I pulled my slightly mangled hat back on. “I don’t know about that. Look where we ended up, Tessa freaked and running. Maybe I did push too far.” I hated that I might be the cause of the pain Tessa felt. Fucking despised it. It was a reminder that I’d been the cause of pain for another innocent young woman. That someone had almost ended her life because of my actions or non-actions twisted my stomach into knots.
Jensen took a step closer. “Those freak-outs are going to happen. You need to decide here and now if you can handle them or not.” Jensen’s eyes bored into mine. “Because if you can’t, you need to leave her be. I won’t have her start to lean on you, and then have you disappear. Tessa deserves better than that.”
My spine stiffened, irritation bristling my skin. “I know you don’t know me that well, but I’m not that kind of guy.” My grandfather had taught me better. My father. Hell, my mom would tan my hide if she ever knew I pulled something like that on a girl as fragile as Tessa. But Tessa wasn’t just fragile. She was also strong as hell.
Tessa had come through whatever had happened to her, and now she and she alone made sure that she was safe. I could admire that. I just wanted to help her carry some of her burdens. And I certainly didn’t want to cause another freak-out like I had just now. I needed more information, insight into what her triggers might be. I just wasn’t sure how to get it.
Jensen smacked me on the back. “I’m glad to hear that. I’m rooting for you. I really am. If anyone deserves a happy ending, it’s her.”
My gaze traveled over Jensen’s face, thinking about everything I knew she’d been through herself. Tessa wasn’t the only one who deserved some happiness in her life. I thought better of saying as much, knowing it wouldn’t be received well. “So, any suggestions?”
A grin tipped Jensen’s mouth. “Slow and steady, my friend. Give her a day or so to get her head straight, but no longer than that. The more time you give her, the more she’ll shore up those walls to keep everyone out.”
There was no way in hell I was going to let Tessa do that. She might not recognize it, but there was a whole slew of people on her team now, and I planned on being the fucking team captain.
17
Tessa
P hoenix nuzzled my side as I sketched. I knew she sensed my frayed nerves. I still wasn’t quite recovered from my paranoia-fueled meltdown from yesterday. But time with the horses helped. Phee’s comfort helped. Sketching helped.
I glanced down at my notepad. Angled cheekbones and piercing eyes stared back at me. God, he was beautiful. So very beautiful, but never to be mine. A famous musician couldn’t be with someone who jumped at every shadow, and he wouldn’t want someone who could barely keep from flinching when she was touched. Not when he could have anyone.
I ripped out the page and stuffed it into my bag. Phoenix huffed as though indignant about me destroying the image. I reached up and scratched between her ears. “It’s for the best.”
The sound of crunching gravel had me turning my head to make sure it was Jensen. Her SUV pulled to a stop next to the fence line, and she hopped out, long hair blowing in the breeze. “You finished getting them all fed?”
I shoved my sketchbook into my bag. “All done. You ready to go?” Jensen had kept to her word and was driving me to and from the ranch. My car was still in Liam’s hands, and now I had no idea if I’d ever get it back. I certainly wasn’t going to call him to ask.
Jensen ducked between two rails in the fence. “Let’s hang with the herd for a bit. Unless you’re in a hurry to get back?”
I shook my head. I could use some extra time with them today.
Jensen climbed up onto the boulder I was sitting on, settling next to me. She pulled a carrot out of her fleece’s pocket and extended it to Phoenix. The mare sniffed the object and then hesitantly took it from Jensen’s palm. “She’s still unsure around me.”
I patted Phoenix’s neck as she chomped down on the treat. “She’ll get there. Just give her time.”
Jensen took in the grazing horses. “I’ll give her all the time in the world.”
We sat in silence for a long while, watching the horses against the backdrop of the sun lowering in the sky. A wave of gratitude swept over me. I might not be able to have Liam, but I had so much: this beautiful place, these amazing creatures, a friend who would sit with me and simply be. That could be enough.
Jensen bumped my shoulder with her own. “So…” She let the word dangle, and my body tensed. “Want to tell me what happened yesterday?”
I fidgeted with the strings on my hoodie. “Not particularly.”
Jensen let out a chuckle. “Why don’t you tell me anyway?”
I snuck a peek at Jensen. This was the first time she’d ever pushed when I dodged a question. Heat filled my chest, a yearning to tell her everything. I was so tired of carrying this weight alone, of acting like a freak and having everyone in my life wonder why.
My heart rate sped up, and my hands began to tingle. Could I tell her? The last thing I wanted was to put Jensen at risk. And she would be if Garrett found out that she knew the details of what had happened. Knew she had helped me. He would do everything in his power to ruin her, hurt her. Gena’s face flashed in my mind. But maybe I could tell Jensen just enough. Broad strokes, not fine details of who I’d been involved with. Maybe then, I wouldn’t feel so damn alone.
Pain rippled through me, exhaustion hot on its heels. I needed to let someone in.
I took a deep breath. “I was in an abusive relationship.” It felt weird to
say the words out loud. I never had before. It had taken months after running away from DC to finally name what I had been through. But there was a power in the naming. A power in declaring the treatment I endured as wrong. Evil. Twisted.
There was a stigma around the word victim. Something that said you were powerless or had given up. I was a victim, but I was also a fighter. I had clawed my way to freedom. And I would let nothing and no one put that freedom at risk—not even my own heart.
I jolted when a hand took mine. Jensen. She said nothing, simply held my hand, giving me the silent support to continue.
My body shuddered slightly. “We met when I was in college. He was finishing up law school. I’d never had what he gave me. The idea of belonging to someone when I’d grown up with no one. Foster families that had too many kids. School classrooms that were overcrowded. I never felt like anyone truly saw me.”
I rubbed the fingertips of my free hand over the rough surface of the rock, letting it ground me. “He noticed me. It felt like this miracle, a precious gift I would do anything to keep hold of. But really, it was a drug. I was forever chasing the high of the first few months while running away from the lows. It didn’t matter that my body was crushed by the addiction, that my soul was slowly dying. I needed that next fix. That one hit of feeling like the most important thing to someone.”
I fought against the shame that wanted to overtake me, the degradation of the truth. That I had made the choice to stay for so long. I swallowed it down. “I always thought of myself as a strong person. A strong woman. That I would never put up with that kind of treatment. I worked hard. Stayed focused. Graduated high school with honors and a full ride to a good state school.”
The girl I used to be, so proud and self-assured filled my mind. “It happened slowly and in a flash at the same time. I didn’t realize he was changing me at first. Subtle suggestions about what to wear, who I was hanging out with. Asking me to cancel plans with my friends because he needed me.”
Images flew through my brain, so many memories of times where I should’ve seen the signs. “I’d never been needed like that before. So, of course, I agreed. He helped me with school work, paid for things he knew I couldn’t afford, wrote me long, romantic letters. I thought it was love. It was really a narcissist’s master manipulation.”
I fisted the side of my sweatshirt. “The first time he hit me, I left. He showed up at my dorm room hours later, sobbing. Begging to be let in. He would never forgive himself for hurting me. He’d live the rest of his days trying to make it up to me.”
I let out a harsh breath. “I took him back.” A lethal mixture of shame, guilt, and self-hatred swirled in my belly. “It was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. It started a vicious cycle. I was the greatest thing in the world for a few days, and then I was lower than the dirt on the bottom of his shoe.”
My voice began to shake as I pressed on. “His paranoia grew. The beatings got worse. When I graduated, he proposed. I said yes, hoping like a fool that it would change things, give us both a sense of security.”
Jensen gripped my hand a little tighter as if sensing that I needed it. I held on. “He didn’t want me to get a job. He needed me at home to take care of him. He got me a driver. I was never out of the line of sight of someone who reported back to him.”
Rage pumped through my veins. “I tried to leave once. To go to the police. He found out within the hour. He had them convinced that I was mentally unstable by the end of the day, and he’d found me by the next.”
Jensen gasped. I couldn’t look at her, afraid of what I might see. “I planned more carefully the next time, pretended he had finally broken me, that I was finally this automaton who would obey his every command, never thinking for myself. He believed it.”
I was silent for a minute, trying to slow my rapidly cycling thoughts. Jensen squeezed my hand. “How did you get out?”
A small smile tipped my lips. “An angel in the form of a hairstylist. She helped me escape.” Emotion clogged my throat. “I’ll never be able to repay her for that.”
A tremor rippled through me as I forced myself to look at Jensen. Would she think I was weak? Stupid? Would she pity me? When I met her gaze, I sucked in a breath. Rage burned in her eyes. “I want to kill him.”
Of all the things she might have said, that wasn’t what I had expected. But with my fierce defender, Jensen, I should have. She was always protecting creatures great and small who had less power than others. Look at the field in front of us, full of horses that had nowhere good to go, beings that needed a safe place to call home. She would destroy anyone who tried to harm them, so I shouldn’t have been shocked that she wanted to do the same for me.
And I couldn’t forget that Jensen also knew what it meant to discover that the man you loved was a monster. I squeezed her hand, a small smile curving my mouth. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I’d rather you not be sent to jail for the rest of your life.”
She looked me dead in the eyes. “They’d have to find the body first.”
Laughter bubbled out of me. I couldn’t help it. And it just kept building until tears streamed down my face and my stomach ached. It was the exact release I needed.
Jensen pulled me into a hug as my laughter subsided. “Thank you for telling me. I’m so sorry you had to endure that. You are so fucking strong.”
The tears that leaked out of my eyes were now a different kind—a mixture of gratitude and emotional release. “Thank you.”
We held onto each other, not moving or speaking until Phoenix tried to nuzzle in between us. We both laughed as the mare broke us apart. I pressed my face against the mare’s furry cheek. “Everything’s okay. Promise.” Phee leaned into me.
Jensen studied me as I stroked Phoenix’s face and neck. “Your name isn’t really Tessa, is it?”
I stiffened. I’d told my story, but I couldn’t ever give away my secrets. “No.” Jensen raised her brows at me. “I can’t tell you what it is. It would put you at risk.”
Jensen’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
I let the feel of Phoenix’s coat beneath my fingers soothe my nerves. “My ex is really well connected.” Understatement of the century. “If he thought you were helping me, knew my history, he’d do everything in his power to destroy you.”
Jensen looked skeptical, so I pushed on. “He’s done it before. That hairstylist I told you helped me? Six months after I left, her salon was set on fire with her inside. Thankfully, she escaped with only smoke inhalation, but she could’ve died. All because she helped me.”
Jensen straightened. “You need to go to Walker. Tell him everything. Get a restraining order. You have resources now who will believe you.”
I pushed off the boulder, needing to move. “I can’t.” I swiveled to pin Jensen with a stare. “And you can’t either. Promise me.” Panic raced through me.
Jensen rose, holding out a hand in a placating gesture. “I won’t. I promise. I’d never betray your trust like that.” My heart rate began to slow a bit. “But tell me why not.”
My hands fisted at my sides. “To file a restraining order, you need to report where you live. That means he would know where I live. If he knows where to find me, I’m as good as dead.”
18
Liam
M y fingers shifted along the neck of the guitar, and my other hand absently strummed. I was caught in that half-conscious state of chasing a melody, a series of notes that had been stuck in my head since I first met Tessa. I couldn’t quite find the exact arrangement, the perfect fit, the music that would put into words the riot of emotions that had taken up residency in my chest.
My ribcage squeezed. I wanted to go to Tessa now. The desire to see her and make sure she was okay was so strong, I’d headed to my car twice in the last two hours. I’d talked myself out of leaving both times, reminding myself of what Jensen had said: give her time to recover from whatever had happened yesterday, then let her know I wasn’t going anywhere.
&nb
sp; I focused back on my guitar, fingers flying over the strings. Closer. I was nearing the right combination of chords. So close. My phone buzzed on the porch rail, and I cursed. I should’ve kept the damn thing on silent, but I wanted to have it on just in case Tessa called.
I glanced at the screen and scowled. Definitely not Tessa. I answered with a gruff, “Hello.”
“Liam, it’s Dan. How are you?” The falsely bright voice belonged to an exec at my record label. He was pretty much the last person I wanted to talk to at this moment, but I knew if I ignored the call, my phone would just keep ringing.
I leaned my guitar against the porch railing. “Hey.”
“How are things?” It sounded like an innocuous question, but I knew it was anything but.
“Fine.” I’d learned that keeping my answers as short and noncommittal as possible was the best way to deal with anyone at the label.
“Any new music brewing?”
My hand tightened around the phone. The music that was beginning to come together on the edges of my mind was personal. Private. I didn’t want any of these greedy soul-suckers anywhere near it. “Nope.”
Dan exhaled a ragged breath. “That’s unfortunate. Listen, I think we have a solution. It’s genius, really.”
I flipped my guitar pick over and over between my fingers. “And what’s that?”
“I know you’re a huge fan of Richard Malstrom’s work.” The exaggerated cheeriness in Dan’s tone had me on alert.
“Yes…” Richard Malstrom was an incredible producer. He had more Grammys than he could probably count, and I would kill to work with him.
“I spoke with him this morning. He has a few songwriters that have tracks we think would be a good fit for you. Why don’t you head back to LA, and we can get you in the studio and recording?”
I squeezed the back of my neck, the guitar pick digging into my flesh. I loved collaborating with other musicians. The back and forth dance of spurring on each other’s creative process was a high unlike any other, but this wasn’t collaboration. I had zero desire to record a song I’d had no part in creating. “No.”
Beautifully Broken Life (The Sutter Lake Series Book 2) Page 11