“How did you find me then?” the woman asked quietly.
“It was accidental to a degree. Your daughter works for a friend of mine,” he replied as he watched her reaction carefully. Did Evelyn know anything? The woman’s hands shot to her face and she jumped up and started pacing the small space. Probably not, then.
“Oh my god, she hasn’t met you, has she?” She paced a bit more. “God no, please tell me you haven’t told her anything. Oh my, she’d know the instant she saw you. Please tell me you haven’t,” she begged as her hands came together in prayer stance. He chuckled to himself in derision as he presumed God had nothing to do with any of this. God clearly didn’t fucking exist. If he did, he might have stopped the bastard that beat the shit out of him every night for years.
“No, I haven’t. I’ve only seen a picture. I thought I might find out some actual facts before I introduced myself,” he said with a lift of his eyebrow and a healthy dose of sarcasm as he crossed his legs.
“Good, oh that’s good. Oh my, what on earth am I going to tell her?” the woman replied as she returned to her seat and seemed to calm herself again.
“Well, how about you tell me first and then we’ll work it out together. Who is she to me?” he said as he took a drink of the tea. He instantly put the cup down. He hated tea. It tasted like piss and reminded him of the hot scaldings he’d received on a regular basis. The bastard had liked that form of pain.
“She’s... She’s your sister - well, half sister,” the woman replied as she looked down at her tea.
“You had an affair with my father?” he asked calmly. Her head shot up instantly and she appeared almost furious.
“No, I... Are you still in contact with him? What was your childhood like?” she asked with narrowed eyes that looked familiar for some reason. He shook his head as he realised she wanted to know if the bastard had been a good father. She clearly didn’t want to hurt him with information that might not go down well. Sweet as that might have been, it was much too little, far too late.
“Absolutely not, and I have no loyalty to him at all.” She tapped the table with her fingers steadily and he smiled at the gesture as he looked at his own hand. Did his mother do that as well? “And my childhood was unpleasant to say the least.” She looked immediately upset as she frowned again and put her head down.
“He... He... Evie was... is a good thing. I love her very much and I don’t want her to know. She thinks Tony is her father.”
Elizabeth’s hand tensed underneath his and he looked across at her beautiful, tear-filled eyes impassively while he thought of his father. She smiled quietly so he returned to the small woman.
“I doubt we can avoid that, Mrs Peters,” he said as he stared at her with a heavy heart and understood. His father was violent. It wasn’t a shock that he was also a rapist, but it was saddening nonetheless and his chest constricted at the thought as he looked at the small woman. She returned his gaze for a moment and then seemed to steel herself for another sentence.
“He killed your mother, you know? I couldn’t prove it but I know he did,” she said angrily as she stood and started pacing again. He watched her hands run through her short blonde hair and glanced over her frame. She wasn’t any taller than five two, very petite figure and her clothes were dowdy as if she’d worked manually every day of her life. Would his mother have been the same? He hadn’t even seen a picture of her. He knew nothing about her at all. At least he knew where his blue eyes had come from now.
“I assumed that he might have.” Elizabeth’s hand stiffened again so he rubbed his thumb across it in an effort to comfort himself as much as her. “Why didn’t you help her?” he asked casually, taking in a breath quietly. The battle to stay controlled was becoming harder but none of this was the small woman’s fault and exploding in front of her wasn’t going to help anyone. Quiet and composed White was needed at the moment. He’d deal with the after effects later. If Elizabeth still loved him by the end of this, she’d be there to help him.
“I tried, so he beat me and your mother ruthlessly then raped me repeatedly in front of her. I was seventeen and scared to death. She asked me to take you, to run away but he wouldn’t let me go, and then when I eventually got my chance, I just ran. By the time I plucked up the courage to come back, she was dead. I... I didn’t even go to the funeral because I was too scared of him. When I found out I was pregnant, I was determined to make the best of it and then I met Tony. He made my life... easier. When Evie was three, I tried to find you again but you’d gone. No one would talk to me for fear of him and so I gave up. The system wasn’t the same back then. You couldn’t get information easily and with them changing your name, I had very little hope of ever finding you.”
He nodded his head as he thought about all the information. He wasn’t sure what to think. He tried to process it but knew he couldn’t so simply stared back at her with what he was sure was a glazed expression.
“I see,” was the only thing he could find to say.
The small woman fidgeted back into her seat and sighed as she looked across at him. He tried for a comforting smile but his heart was chasing itself so rapidly that his mind couldn’t catch up so he just continued with his vague stare.
“What’s your name now? I assume it’s not Mr. Walters from our insurance company,” she asked with a raise of her brow. He heard Elizabeth gasp at the look; eyes were clearly his mother’s family trait and he instantly thought of Evelyn.
“That’s quite scary and a little bit weird,” she whispered from his side. He chuckled a little and squeezed her hand lovingly. She wasn’t mad. That was a good thing and the thought calmed him a bit as his heart returned to a more careful beat.
“No, it’s Alexander White,” he said, frowning as he realised the name felt a little strange around his mouth. Nicholas Adlin hadn’t been his name for a very long time, but for some reason, in the presence of a family member, it felt a little wrong somehow. He didn’t like it in the slightest.
“What do you do, Alex?” the woman asked inquisitively as she removed their cups and boiled the kettle again.
“I run a business - investments and property, that sort of thing.” She smiled and nodded in that vacant ‘haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about’ way that he so despised about people.
“And you, Miss Scott?” He turned to her to watch her reaction. He’d missed looking at her so gazed at her beauty in the hope of distracting himself from the level of unease that was still coursing through him.
“A catering business. Can I use your loo?” she replied without looking at him. The small woman motioned her toward the hall and told her to go on through. She did and he instantly felt lost without her near him and felt his heartbeat increase again. He scowled at his own weakness.
“Have you been together long?” the woman said as she placed more of the revolting tea on the table. He pulled his gaze from the door regrettably and returned it to her.
“A while, although I’m not sure she’ll forgive me when we leave here,” he said as he loaded sugar absentmindedly into her cup. She liked sugar; she had lots of sugar in her coffee. He couldn’t believe it actually ended up tasting of coffee at all but she loved it so he put another spoon in and stirred, hoping that she liked it in tea.
“She didn’t know?”
“No. I should have told her. She does know about my father and the care home but she... she didn’t know my name or anything about my mother,” he replied as he stared at the table and then glanced toward the door again, Where was she? He could feel his breath tightening at her not being close enough and realised he couldn’t do this without her at all. That was clearly why he’d brought her here.
“She loves you then. I wouldn’t worry too much. She wouldn’t have held your hand through this if she didn’t think she’d still be with you tomorrow,” the woman said as she smiled and reached for his hand. He watched as it descended in slow motion. Did he move his hand or leave it there? He looked up at the wom
an as he felt it land on his and stuttered out a breath, struggling to bring another one in. His eyes shot to the door again as he felt what appeared to be panic welling up inside him. He needed her. Where was she? He pulled his hand away from the woman’s warm fingers and stood up quickly, barely registering the teacup falling to the floor and liquid spilling across the floor as he barged the table out of his way.
“I need... I need to go outside for a moment,” he said as he moved across the kitchen and hurried toward the front door, knocking pictures on the wall as he went. He grabbed for it and lunged outside, slamming it behind him. The first big lungful of air did nothing. The second did little better and he felt himself dropping to his knees, trying desperately to get some air. His hands hit the floor as he tried to stabilise himself before he toppled forward. What was happening?
His vision started to swim in front of him and he sat back on his haunches and grabbed at his chest while sucking in the air he needed. Why couldn’t he breathe? Nothing was stopping the sharp pain that was stopping his ribs from expanding so he reached for his throat and clawed at it in the hope that it would help.
He heard the door open behind him and keeled over forward again onto his hands.
“Alex?” she shouted as she dropped down by his side and grasped at his face to turn him toward her. “Alex, what’s wrong? Please, Alex,” she said as he panted hard and scrabbled with his hands for something, anything. She pushed him upwards somehow and got in front of him, holding his face in her hands. “Baby, I love you. You have to breathe. Calm down and breathe,” she said peacefully as she forced his eyes to hers. “Look at me. Look into my eyes and breathe with me.”
He felt his hands grab hold of her shoulders as he steadied himself on her and looked at her lips as they opened and closed around her inhale. God, they were beautiful, so soft, so warm and precious. His body started to relax as he looked back into deep brown eyes that blinked gently at him and drew in another lungful as she moved closer. “I love you. You’re okay. I’ve got you. Breathe.”
His fingers eased their grip on her as he felt her fingers running through his hair and saw her mouth widening into a smile. Fuck, she was still the most incredible thing he’d ever seen. He moved into her hand and closed his eyes as he pulled in another breath and then looked back at her. She was still smiling and the moon seemed to create a halo around her. He frowned and reached up to her hair, drifting his fingers through the light that bounced around her face as he watched the light illuminate her features with an ethereal glow and sighed. He didn’t deserve her, not in the fucking slightest. What he’d put her through tonight was bad enough. If she ever found out the rest, she’d be running for her life.
“Angel,” he whispered to himself as his breathing slowed a little more.
“Alex?” she said with a puzzled expression. He watched his fingers find her face and moved them across to her lips. She wetted them before he got there and he drew her forward to him.
“I love you,” he said as he pulled her toward his mouth. “I love you. I couldn’t breathe without you.” She shuddered out a breath and then met his lips. He wrapped her up in his arms and tried to show her everything she meant to him in a single intimate moment as he thought with his tongue. Love, passion, obsession and respect ebbed through him in waves. “Don’t leave me again,” he said as he pushed her back and gazed at her. Her breaths were now rapid as she flushed, her pupils dilated and her lips trembling with something… Was that love or fear? “I don’t want you to leave me again.”
She nodded and curled her frame into his shoulder as he held her tight and stroked her hair rhythmically. Peace… The thought lingered in his brain as he looked up at the stars and tried to imagine his life without her in it. She’d bought him peace when he’d least expected it or wanted it and now he couldn’t even think of her not close to him, with him. Family… His mind whirled back to the woman inside and what he should be doing and then he looked back down at her in his arms. Family… She was his family. The other woman didn’t matter in the slightest because as long as he had her, that was enough.
“Alex?” Her voice drifted up beneath him and he pulled her closer.
“Yes, baby?” he replied as he kissed her hair and wandered his fingers across her shoulder gently.
“My knees hurt.” What?
He chuckled as he realised they were kneeling on the gravel and pulled her up with him as he stood. His vision instantly tilted again and he grabbed onto her. “Steady,” she said as she righted him and took a step away with a frown. “Are you okay now? What do you want to do?”
Something wasn’t right in her face. He could see it. She was almost cold in her gaze, calculated.
What did he want to do? He didn’t know. At the moment, he couldn’t feel further from in control if he tried, and the thought of going back inside was filling him with a dread that he didn’t even want to entertain. What the hell had happened a moment ago was beyond unfathomable and he certainly wasn’t in any rush to go back in and have it happen again. She was still here. She hadn’t run a mile and screamed at him so at least he hadn’t completely fucked that bit up, but she was pissed and that was the most important thing to deal with.
“I need to ask her if she has something I want and then we’ll go,” he said quietly as he looked at the door and brushed the dirt off his trousers. “Are you okay?” She stared at him pensively for a moment and then cuddled her arms around herself.
“Well, given that I’ve just found out that I know nothing about the man I’m currently dating, and that I was considering giving whoever that man is permission to suspend me from a sodding ceiling or something, I think I’m doing... not too bad actually,” she said with a raise of her brow as she nibbled her thumb. He reached for her but she stepped away again. “No, Alex. Not yet,” she said sternly. He frowned but nodded his head and walked to the door.
The woman was still sitting in the kitchen where he’d left her, but now she was crying again so he sat down opposite her and passed her his handkerchief.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I’m just so sorry,” she said over and over again. He sat for a few more minutes and allowed her to cry it out. There was no way he was bloody touching her again. His angel came in and sat down next to him quietly. He didn’t look at her. She was annoyed. He understood the gravity of his fuck up.
“Do you have a picture of my mother?” he asked when the woman eventually stopped weeping. She stood and walked over to the welsh dresser. Pulling out a photo album, she shuffled through some pages, removed a few pictures and then placed them on the table in front of him. He continued to watch the woman as she fiddled nervously again. He didn’t want to look at the pictures, not here. He would wait and do that in private.
“She was wonderful,” the woman said as she stared at him. “You have her eyes and probably her humour if that sarcasm is anything to go by.”
He pocketed the photos and stood up at the thought. He supposed she would know but he wasn’t prepared to think any deeper into that.
“Thank you, Mrs Peters,” he said as he made his way to the door. She rushed after him and grabbed onto his arm. He stiffened instantly and looked over his shoulder at her. She looked humble and defeated, and he smiled a little and uncurled her fingers from his arm softly.
“Please stay. I’ve got so much to tell you, to show you. What about Evie?” the woman said fretfully. Elizabeth brushed past him and squeezed his upper arm as she leaned into his ear.
“Be nice, Alex,” she whispered as she let go and opened the door. He watched her gorgeous arse go and shook his head. “Goodbye, Mrs Peters. It was lovely meeting you,” she called as she stepped into the darkness away from him, again.
“We have to go. I’ll call you in a few days when I’ve decided what to do. Thank you for your help,” he said as he pinched the bridge of his nose and started toward the door again.
“Alex, wait,” she called. “Please, just a second,” she said as she rus
hed up the stairs. He stared after her and then walked out of the door. He’d wait outside. He could fucking breathe out there.
She hurried back down the stairs and gave him a small wooden box. “It’s all I have, but I suppose it’s more yours than it is mine,” she said quietly as she touched the box and smiled at him.
“Thank you,” he replied as he turned for the car. Suddenly something like guilt bit at him and he realised the woman probably felt dreadful regarding her inability to help for all those years. He stopped to look back at her. “It wasn’t your fault, Mrs Peters. I don’t blame you. I hope you know that. I just... I need time to think about this.” She faltered slightly and then smiled again.
“Thank you. That’s kind of you to say. And I understand. Just call me when you’re ready,” she replied. “Goodbye and drive safe.” He nodded at her and turned for Elizabeth.
She was leaning on the bonnet, watching him carefully. He wasn’t ready to see the steadfastness in her eyes and he hesitated for a second before continuing. She was either leaving him or about to kill him, and at the moment he really hadn’t got a fucking clue which. She held out her beautiful hand and he reached into his pocket and threw the keys at her. She nodded and unlocked the car as he gazed at her.
This was going to be a bloody long car ride. Whether they would still be together by the end of it was questionable to say the least.
Chapter 9
Elizabeth
“I ’m going for a shower.”
That is the first thing that I’ve uttered since we left. I hurl the keys at the mahogany barley twist sodding expensive table and quite frankly couldn’t give a shit if they scratch the hell out of the top of it. He’s got enough money; he can pay for it, whoever he is. Bastard!
How dare he take me into that with no warning? Nicholas Adlin? Who the hell is Nicholas Adlin?
Alex is apparently. You’d think that was a pretty important piece of information to tell the woman you say you love, wouldn’t you? But it seems in his world I am not relevant enough for him to trust me with his secrets.
Feeling White Page 18