Chapter Nine
Cara
“Well, someone’s glowing today.”
I turn around to find Abby grinning in my direction, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “What?”
She leans back against her pillow, watching me for a second before bursting out in laughter, and I can’t help but smile even though I have no idea what it is she finds funny.
She looks good, and although the bruises on her face and arms have not completely faded, they aren’t the same sickening dark purple and red they did when she first showed up.
Her eyes still carry a bit of a haunted look, which I have noticed eases whenever Ransom is around.
And he has been around a lot. But he had to return to the clubhouse to meet with Saint, so I’m taking advantage of this time to visit with my new friend.
“You’ve been distracted for days,” she says, reaching for her water bottle.
“How would you know?” I tease her, “You’ve hardly done anything but stare at a certain hacker in a leather jacket the last few days.”
At first, I was worried about Abby being intimidated by his near-constant presence, but judging from the flush on Abby’s cheeks whenever his name is mentioned, I can tell the attention is very much welcome.
“I’m not that bad,” she says shyly, sipping on the water as she tries to look anywhere but at me.
By the looks of it, Abby seems to have developed a bit of a crush on her self-appointed bodyguard.
It seems I’ve been too carried away by my own romance that I almost missed the one happening right in front of my eyes.
I’m not sure if it’s a good idea for Abby to be involved with someone this soon, but considering my own situation, I am in no position to judge her.
As if sensing the direction of my thoughts, Abby looks at me and pleads, “Please don’t say a word.
” She buries her face in her palms. “There is nothing you can say that I haven’t already said to myself.
Yes, it’s a bad idea to encourage the attention of a man after what happened to me, but can you blame me? ”
“Abby—”
“The truth is, I am still scared. Of my parents, of my ex, of men in general and what they are capable of. I want nothing more than to hide away, but then…Ransom came into my life, jumping at the slightest sign of discomfort on my face, calming my fears, and making me feel safe.”
I reach down and take her hands in mine. “I’m not judging you, Abby.”
“Well, I’m judging me,” she murmurs, her fingers tightening on mine. “That I would fall for the first man to show me kindness.” Her sad eyes lift to mine. “You’ve told me a bit about your past. How do you know what you feel for Doc is really love and not gratitude?”
“Can’t it be both?” I offer with a smile, but don’t get one in return, which draws a sigh from my lips.
“I knew that he and I might meet again one day, the world is small like that, but I had no idea the kind of reaction I would get from a man whose life I ruined.” It still haunts me.
I don’t believe anything James says can wipe away the guilt I feel for the life I stole from him.
“The man saved my life, so a part of me knew he wouldn’t hurt me, My reaction to seeing him was more of shame.
I couldn’t face him without feeling guilty and indebted to him. ”
“Is that why you are in a relationship with him now? Do you feel burdened by guilt? Indebted, still?”
“Not anymore,” I say with another smile. “I feel safe, happy, and a whole host of other emotions that have nothing to do with the past and everything to do with the present. Feelings I’ve tried to control but slip out whenever he’s close. I feel protected even when he’s not with me.”
“Is that why you are glowing?” She grins. “You were thinking of the doctor, weren’t you?”
“Well…”
I pat my cheeks when I feel them heat. The fact is, I was thinking about James, but not in a way I can share, even with someone who’s fast becoming a close friend. When James said he couldn’t control himself around me, I didn’t take him as seriously as I should have.
The man is an insatiable beast.
In the couple of days since we first had sex, he’s been ravenous, taking me in positions I didn’t believe possible. Heck, I’m surprised I can still walk after the way he made love to me this morning. On my tiny dining table no less, rubbing cream all over my tits before licking it up.
My nipples bead at the memory of it, and the spot between my legs aches for him. To feel the press of that hot body against mine as he takes me fast and hard over the table and then again in the shower.
“Oh my God, Cara, are you blushing?”
“What? No…” I say, pushing up and turning away from the laughter that follows. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do,” she laughs. “Don’t tell me you were having some kind of twisted fantasies about the man with me seated right here next to you.
” I hope to God that my embarrassment doesn’t show in my expression when I turn around to face her.
“Wow, you’ve really gone and fallen in love with him, haven’t you? ”
I am saved from responding when the door opens, and Ransom walks in. Abby’s attention is immediately stolen by the man’s presence, and by the way they’re watching each other, I figure I might as well show myself out before I witness something I shouldn’t.
“Abby, I’m going to head out, but I’ll stop by later in the evening to check up on you.”
“What?” she says, glancing briefly in my direction. “Y-you’re leaving already?”
“Yeah, I have to go pick up donations at a community center,” I say, nearly laughing when I realize I am basically talking to myself.
Neither of them notices me as I discreetly show myself out.
I’m still chuckling when I walk out of the building.
I consider asking Samantha to drive me there, but that would only inconvenience her seeing James agreed to meet me and help with transport the donations back to Haven House.
The need to spend more time with the man has me taking an Uber instead of bothering Samantha. I allow my thoughts to wander to him the entire ride and barely stop myself from calling his number just so I can hear his voice.
Pathetic.
It’s awfully pathetic of me to be so terribly missing someone I saw just a couple of hours ago.
Heck, I can still feel the burn on my skin from his palm after he’d spanked me until I was nearly begging to come this morning.
I shouldn’t like the things he does to me as much as I do, and yet, it’s all I can think about.
The ride feels short, but I’m still smiling when I pay the driver.
The late afternoon sun warms my face as I step out and look up at the sturdy building with a welcoming sign that reads, “Harmony Hall.” The community center is one of the oldest buildings in the city, and I am suddenly overwhelmed by the memories of coming here when I was younger.
Not all the memories are fond, but my smile stays as I take the stairs and walk to the entrance.
I run a hand over the smooth, cool surface of the old brick wall, recalling the nights my stepfather would drink a little too much and look at me a little too long, forcing me to seek refuge and safety here for the night.
This place was a haven back then, and I imagine it still is for others today.
I’m no longer that helpless little girl who had no one to turn to. Now I have a community, people who would protect me, friends, and a man who loves me.
With a sigh, I push open the heavy glass doors, and the sound of chatter and activity spills out to greet me.
The entryway is bright, with a colorful bulletin plastered with flyers advertising yoga classes, cooking workshops, and volunteer opportunities.
A friendly-looking woman sits behind a reception desk, her name tag reading, “Maria.”
“Hello,” I say, walking up to her. “I’m here to pick up the donations for Haven House. My name is Cara Dupree,” I say, taking out my work ID to show her.
“Haven House? Oh, I’ve been hearing lovely things about that place.
” Maria takes a quick look at the ID before passing it back to me.
“Some of the women who come to the cooking class stayed there for a while and have had nothing but great things to say,” she says with a smile I imagine puts everyone who walks through those doors immediately at ease.
“You must be new. Usually, it’s Samantha who comes, but it’s nice to see a new face. ”
“I offered to pick them up for her.”
“There are a lot of donations, are you sure you’ll be able to get them yourself?”
I can’t help the blush that climbs up my neck at the thought of James. “Someone will join me shortly to help.”
“Great,” she says, clapping her hands. “Everything is packed, so just head down the hall to the back, the third door on the left. You can’t miss it, the room or the packages. Your donations are labeled with the name of the shelter.”
“Thank you.” I smile at her, then walk down the hall.
The walls are adorned with artwork charmingly strange, and I imagine it’s created by local children to add a touch of whimsy to the space.
I catch the sound of laughter and conversation as I walk past doors, and my heart warms at the memory of spending time here, hoping my stepfather would be passed out drunk when I finally made it home.
As I approach the third door, I can already see boxes stacked high, ready to be loaded. Just the thought of how many people these items are going to help sends a wave of excitement flooding in. I open the door, ready to inspect the items when my eyes fall on…him.
He’s standing near the boxes in a blue janitor uniform, his back to me, talking to a volunteer, and even faced away, I recognize that bald head and the ugly tattoo on the back of his neck immediately.
The girl standing in front of him looks like she’d rather be anywhere else, but he’s trapped her in the corner.
It can’t be…
The air leaves my lungs in a whoosh, and my blood runs cold. My smile vanishes in an instant, and I find my feet rooted to the spot despite the voice in my head yelling for me to turn around and run away. To leave this place before he spots me.
Run, Cara!
I feel like I am shoved back in time to being that helpless little girl, staring at the big man reeking of beer and screaming in her face.
I was skin and bones back then, not a shred of fat on my body from days of going hungry.
But I’m not hungry anymore, and I’m not that scared little girl anymore.
And yet, in the face of the monster from my past, my brain is stuck in that timeline.
I must make some kind of noise because the two suddenly turn toward the door. The girl slips past him and runs out of the room, leaving me alone with my stepfather. He seems just as surprised to see me, but it only lasts a second before his mouth lifts in a sneer.
“Well, if it isn’t my prodigal daughter,” he hisses, taking a step forward and smiling when I take one back.
“The bitch who tossed my kindness back in my face and then left like her whoring mother.” I miss the door completely, and my back slams against the wall.
“You had the nerve to run away after everything I sacrificed for you, you ungrateful little bitch.”
When he reaches out and grabs my arm, I brace for the pain. All he has to do is touch me, and I am transported back to that night.