by Dana Mason
She turned to look over and found Ava and Mark watching her with hesitant eyes. They wore the same expression. She almost wanted to laugh at it.
“What?”
“What are you doing?” Mark asked.
“I’m packing. I can’t stay here with the son of a bitch taunting me.”
“Good, you’ll have fun at my house,” Ava said.
“I’m not going to your house.” She dropped some folded clothes into the suitcase. “I’m not letting you risk your job to babysit me.”
“It’ll be fine.”
“No.” Sarah shook her head. “I’m leaving town.”
“I’ll stay with you,” Mark said.
“You can’t put your life on hold for me either.”
“I’ll call Lily and see if she can take care of you,” Ava said.
Sarah spun around, seething. “Don’t you dare call my mother.”
“Sarah, you shouldn’t travel in this condition.” His eyes rested on hers and he stepped closer. “I meant what I said. I want to be here for you.”
Looking into his eyes, Sarah knew he meant it. He wanted to help her and protect her, but why? And what would it cost her?
Chapter Thirteen
Sarah felt the hours of sleep she’d lost clear to her bones. Mark was tired too, but he still took over the responsibility of making dinner. She tried to do it on her own. Of course she couldn’t, which infuriated her. She had limited range of motion in her left arm, and the sling was driving her crazy. More than anything, she hated not being physically able to do everything herself. She wanted her life to get back to normal. Remembering the night before, she wondered if things would ever be normal again.
They ate dinner in the living room in front of the TV after agreeing on a movie. She took one side of the sofa and Mark took the other.
Halfway through the movie, Mark fell asleep. She watched him for a while, wishing she could sleep as peacefully. He was attractive. She nearly snorted out a laugh—attractive didn’t begin to describe him. No, more like absolutely beautiful. Too bad he was a control freak, she shook her head. Maybe that was unfair. Mark wasn’t controlling, she knew that. He was protective and that made him seem possessive. After the care he’d taken with her over the last several days, she was hesitant to group him in with other men. He deserved her respect if nothing else.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d let a man stay overnight. In the past, she didn’t want anyone getting too comfortable in her house. She didn’t like how men always managed to assume ownership over things—over her, her free time, her life. No, she didn’t need a relationship like Ava seemed to think, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be friends with Mark. She wasn’t relationship material anyway. Kevin had ruined love for her and proved she was better off alone.
Sarah had spent the last eight years trying to keep history from repeating itself. She didn’t feel comfortable in her own skin until she bought this house. It had been at least a year since she had thought much about Kevin. She rubbed a hand across the underside of her chin, near her left ear where the three-inch scar used to sit. Having that nasty reminder removed helped her forget, but these head-to-toe bruises brought it all up again.
She closed her eyes at the shame she felt having to sneak into Kevin’s house to get her stuff after fleeing the hospital. His last words ringing in her head, You killed our baby, Sarah. She’s dead because of you.
Sarah’s body had buzzed with adrenalin the entire time, knowing he’d catch her...yet knowing it was impossible because he was in jail. How did a person shake the fear of someone you knew couldn’t reach you? She still felt fearful when she thought about him.
That’s what made the last year seem like such a huge accomplishment. Maybe she had actually recovered from the awful things she’d been through. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked over at Mark again, trying to clear her head of the heavy memories. He looked peaceful, but chilled. She gently placed a blanket over him, hoping not to wake him up, and went to her bedroom to watch TV in bed.
Within minutes of turning the TV on, she found a good movie to watch and snuggled in with the remote control.
Before the first commercial break, Sarah felt herself dozing off.
Her throat was too restricted to breathe. She fought to inhale, but as his grip tightened, her fear became palpable.
“You want to leave, I’ll kill you first. Don’t ever think you can leave me.”
He slammed her against the wall with his hand still clamped around her neck, holding her there while he screamed at her. His spit hit her face and his mouth contorted in a way she’d never seen before. He was insane. He had completely lost his mind and he was going to kill her. This was her only condolence, knowing that when it was over, she’d be dead.
“Let this be a reminder the next time you think about leaving me.”
She stood on tiptoes, hoping to relieve the pressure of his grasp on her airway. When his massive fist came at her face, a quiet gasp left her lips and her wide eyes slammed shut...
Sarah woke up screaming, with a disheveled Mark standing over her. Her eyes darted from him, to the fuzzy TV, and around the room, trying to focus on something familiar.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed.
She blinked her eyes at the flickering lights from the TV.
“I need to...” She rolled out of bed and with trembling hands, pulled open the drawer of her nightstand. No gun. She stared into the open drawer until she could focus her thoughts and remember where the gun was.
“Sarah, you okay?”
“Yeah.” She closed the drawer and stumbled into the bathroom.
With a cool washcloth, she dabbed her face and stared at her pale reflection, trying to steady her breathing. She dropped the washcloth and laid her hands on her flat stomach, the ache from her loss and the feeling of emptiness as fresh as if it had happened yesterday.
Stop this, Sarah—just stop it—get over it.
When she came out of the bathroom, Mark was waiting for her.
“Sorry if I woke you up.” She walked over and turned off the TV, casting the room in shadows.
“You okay? Want to talk about your dream?”
She climbed back into bed. “I would much rather not relive it.”
“You don’t need the gun, Sarah. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”
When she didn’t respond, Mark whispered, “Good night.”
He sounded exhausted. If she couldn’t master herself, neither of them would get any sleep.
She covered herself completely with the comforter and tried to relax into her warm bed. Until this week, she hadn’t dreamt about Kevin in a long time. Always the same dream—Kevin’s hand around her neck, fighting for air, and praying for a quick death. She remembered his words clearly and the pain. She would never forget the pain.
How clever of her to think she’d gotten past this. Instead of getting better, she had to live through that day again in her dreams. Kevin didn’t even know where to find her and she had to let it go, but would she ever chase him from her nightmares permanently?
After several minutes of restlessness, she took her blanket from the bed and lumbered to the other end of the sectional sofa, letting Mark’s steady breathing lull her to sleep.
Mark woke up early and glanced at the clock. Six a.m. He blinked in surprise at Sarah sleeping on the other side of the sectional sofa. He sat up and leaned over to see her face. Damn, she was beautiful.
When she slept, the fear disappeared and her beautiful face remained. He loved staring into those storm-cloud gray eyes, but she carried a lifetime of secrets and pain there. When she slept peacefully, the secrets and pain disappeared, and her beauty increased tenfold.
Her skin looked like porcelain and felt just as breakable. His eyes followed the line of her jaw and the curve of her cheekbone. He fought the urge to reach out to touch her. He could’ve watched her sleep for hours, but he got up, gra
bbed his laptop, and went to the kitchen.
When he finished reading his e-mail, he walked over to the bookcase in the corner of the living room to see what types of books she liked to read. Sarah’s collection ranged from the complete Harry Potter series to classics like Jane Austen.
Tucked between two larger books was a high school yearbook from Central High. He flipped open the cover to read the Flagstaff address and then carried it to the kitchen table. Sarah’s picture was amongst the seniors, but with a different name. Sarah Lange. Hmm, why the name change?
She shuffled into the kitchen with the comforter wrapped around her with only her small face exposed. She yawned and said, “Morning.”
“Good morning,” he said, looking back down at the book.
“What the hell are you doing?” She dropped her blanket and walked over to yank the yearbook out of his hand. She squinted at the page and then gave him a death stare as she walked across the room and dropped the yearbook into the garbage can.
“Why would you throw that away?”
“Why are you going through my things, reading my stuff?” she shouted.
“What’s the big deal?”
Sarah grabbed her blanket off the floor and stormed to her room, slamming the door behind her.
He walked to the bedroom door and knocked. “Open up, please.”
When she didn’t answer after a few minutes, he went back to the kitchen and pulled the yearbook out of the trash can. She couldn’t be angry over an outdated senior picture. He flipped through the book some more. Sarah was in the track team picture and the newspaper staff. It seemed like normal high school stuff, until he focused on one of the signatures.
Dear Sarah,
I didn’t want to sign your yearbook, I was just checking to make sure no other guys did. I don’t know why I bothered, it’s not like you’d have your other boyfriends sign this anyway.
I’m glad school is out so we can be together without all the bullshit getting in our way. You belong to me forever now.
Love always,
Kevin Lewis
“Kevin,” he whispered.
No, she couldn’t have been screaming like that over a high school boyfriend. He flipped through the book, but couldn’t find Kevin’s picture, only another senior named Jeffery Lewis.
As he turned the pages, he realized how few signatures there were, and only one from a boy. He found a hand-drawn heart and scribble that said Kevin and Sarah forever. He turned this over in his head and thought of Ali, his high school sweetheart and ex-wife, who he still talked to almost every day.
“What did he do to you, Sarah?” he whispered before reading the entry again. You belong to me forever now...
Absolutely creepy. Goosebumps broke out on his arm. No wonder she tossed it in the trash.
He dropped the book back into the garbage and walked to her bedroom. When he inched the door open, he saw the lump under the covers.
He sat on the edge of her bed and pulled the blanket back to uncover her head. Sarah buried her face in the pillow.
“Sarah, look at me, please.”
“No, I’m mad at you. Get out of my room—get out of my house!”
Mark took a deep breath to keep from chuckling. She was irresistible. How could anyone ever hurt her? The thought sobered him, and he wondered again where her fear came from. Did she really carry this around with her for all these years?
“I’m sorry. Look at me, please,” he said, wanting to see her eyes. “I wasn’t trying to invade your privacy, but I’m glad I did. You were pretty hot in high school.”
“Shut up, I was fat in high school.”
This time he did laugh. “No, not at all.”
“It’s not funny.” She reached to smack him.
When she did, he grabbed her hand and turned her toward him.
“I am sorry. Will you forgive me?” he asked. “I won’t touch anything else without your permission. How about you come to my house this afternoon and dig through my stuff?”
She jerked out of his grip, pulled the covers back over her head, and rolled back over on her side.
Mark lay down next to her and wrapped his arm over her, wanting to comfort her and needing to feel her next to him. If he could feel her, then he knew she was okay. Her nightmare had scared him last night too. Waking up to her screaming like that—it wasn’t something he was prepared for.
“I really am sorry, and I’m sorry you couldn’t sleep last night.”
When she didn’t respond, he said, “You should’ve woken me up if you couldn’t sleep.”
Sarah shook her head under the blanket.
He gave her a few minutes before trying again.
“Will you forgive me?” he asked in the sweetest voice.
When she nodded, he squeezed her until she said, “Ow.”
“Oh, sorry.” Mark started to get up, but she grabbed his arm and held him in place. He rested his head and lay still until her breathing steadied, and then he carefully removed the blanket off her face. Damn, at least I’m capable of tranquilizing her to sleep.
He didn’t move. There was nothing worth doing that could compete with this. He snuggled in to enjoy her silent company.
Mark jumped when he realized Sarah was waking him up. “What’s wrong?”
“What time do you pick up Jamie?”
“One o’clock?”
Sarah sat down on the edge of the bed next to him. “It’s almost noon.”
“Are you still mad at me?”
“No.” She gave him a crooked smile. “But I am going to take you up on the offer.”
“What offer?” he asked with a knitted brow.
“To go to your house. I’m sure you have a sofa I can sleep on.”
“I’m sorry about the yearbook. I won’t touch anything else.” He held up his hands. “I promise.”
“No.” She rolled her eyes with a smile. “I don’t want to go through your stuff. I just need a change of scenery.”
“If you’re sure, I’ll drop you off on my way to get Jamie.”
Mark lived in a track house in a newer development where the houses resembled each another—same shape and same color scheme.
Sarah had trouble hiding her chagrin when he pulled into the driveway.
“This is your house?”
“Yeah, what? You don’t like it?”
“How many families live here with you? It’s rather large for only you and one little boy.”
“Yeah, it’s ridiculous. Ali picked it out. I found out about her affair a couple months after I bought it...don’t get me started.” He frowned. “When the divorce was final, the housing market bombed and I got stuck with it.”
Mark’s house looked like a big box, almost completely square. She loved the colors though, soft gray with navy blue and charcoal trim—a perfect combination. The top floor had two large, symmetrical bay windows protruding out, and Sarah assumed those were two smaller bedrooms.
Before stepping inside, Mark stopped at the mailbox and pulled out a large handful of mail. He unlocked the front door and waved a hand for her to enter first. Sarah immediately heard a loud beeping coming from the alarm keypad located to the left of the front door.
She smiled when Mark entered the code. “So, Mark, what’s your code?”
“Zero-nine-five-two,” he said without hesitation.
She raised her eyebrows. “I was joking, you didn’t have to tell me.”
“I’m not worried.” He smiled. “But I do have to hurry or Jamie will be stuck waiting outside his school alone.”
He gave her instructions for his alarm system and his passwords before rushing back out the front door.
Chapter Fourteen
“Alone in a strange house—whose idea was this?” Sarah looked around at the entryway before walking into the large great room. The great room consisted of the family room, kitchen, and dining room, which were open to each other. A U-shaped island surrounded by barstools framed the kitchen, providing the only d
ivision from the other two rooms.
The open family room had a lived-in feel to it, very warm and inviting, and Sarah could see herself curled up with a book in the overstuffed chair. A big-screen TV sat opposite the sofa with a cabinet underneath for the DVD collection and a game console.
On her way to the stairs, she peeked in at the formal living room. Mark had it impeccably furnished with dark brown, plush leather sofas. Stained wood trimmed the latte-colored walls. Light poured in through the windows, creating a bright room, even with the shades of dark brown.
Sarah strolled up the stairs and was surprised to only find three bedrooms. Jamie’s room looked like you would expect a little boy’s bedroom. She loved the sea blue color and loved that Mark wasn’t afraid of color. In the far corner sat a bookcase filled with books of all different shapes and sizes. Toys littered the floor, spilling out over the side of the toy bin to the left of his bedroom door. She smiled. This room was definitely lived-in.
An office sat across from Jamie’s room, and Sarah could tell by the large cluttered, L-shaped desk that Mark did a lot of work from home. Opposite the desk sat a futon sofa.
Great candid pictures of Jamie hung around the office, mixed in with some of his school artwork. Sarah gazed at the picture of Mark’s son, searching for a resemblance. Jamie had Mark’s dimple and beautiful eyes, but lighter hair. What a lucky boy to have Mark as a father. If Mark was half as caring with his son as he’d been with her, then he was a wonderful dad. And for Mark to have such a beautiful little boy...she tried not to feel jealous, but that was impossible, especially with the way his face lit up every time he talked about Jamie.
After looking around, she moved on to the next bedroom. The master suite almost equaled the size of her entire house. To the right, a small seating area faced the fireplace, and Mark’s king-size bed sat dead center between the two bay windows she’d seen from outside. The master bathroom had a two-person, spa bathtub and a huge walk-in shower.