RIVAL: An Enemies to Lovers Why Choose Country Romance

Chapter 12

I’ve barely shut the back door before my hair is fisted and my face slammed into the wall. Crying out, I try to turn my head to the side, my eyes immediately watering from the pain in my nose, radiating out through my head.

Sour whiskey swarms me as my father’s heavy breath beats down on my cheek. “I heard a little rumor today, daughter.”

I know not to answer him. He never wants me to answer, but his fingers tighten, and I can feel my hair being pulled out by the roots.

“Answer me, you little bitch!” he screams, spit spraying against my face. “Don’t you want to know what I fuckin’ heard?”

“W-What?” I choke out, bracing my hands on the wall he has me pinned against.

He releases my hair and spins me around, only to slam my back to the wall now, hands bruising my shoulders. “I fuckin’ heard you’re workin’ with Jaxon Thorton over at the church. Gettin’ really fuckin’ cozy with him, too. I told him there’s no fuckin’ way my daughter is out whorin’ herself for that worthless scumbag, but he swore up and down he saw the two of you together. Wanna explain that to me?”

Who is he? “I’m not! He’s—”

My head whips to the side when he backhands me, my cheek screaming for me to cup it and ease the pain, but I keep my hands fisted at my sides.

“I don’t want to hear your bullshit excuses! Yes or no, are you workin’ with Jaxon at the church?”

I wince, knowing that I can’t explain, and he’ll hate my answer. Why he cares about Jaxon, I have no idea, but I tell him the truth, whispering my answer. “Yes.”

My head smacks against the wall with the force of his next backhand, but I bite my cheek to stop from crying out, tasting the metallic flavor of my blood as my teeth sink into the soft tissue.

His fist connects with my stomach, and I double over, gasping for air. I’m so shocked by his strike that it takes a few moments before the pain spreads throughout my abdomen. My father steps away from me, hissing in annoyance as he stomps to the fridge, yanking the door open and pulling out a beer.

Just as I lift my head to look at him through watery eyes, I see his lip curl up in disgust. “You’re done there. You ain’t goin’ back. Fuckin’ whore.” He murmurs the last of his words into his bottle as he starts swallowing it down.

“You signed me up to volunteer. He’s the foreman the church hired to supervise the job. I swear, that’s it. Mr. Thorton gives us instructions and we follow.”

My father storms back over and grabs my hair at my crown to lift my head so he can look into my face. His unfocused eyes dart over me, probably looking for the truth in my words.

“I won’t have you embarrassin’ me with the church.” You should be embarrassed by the way you drink and hit me. I hold my thoughts inside as he continues. “You can go back tomorrow, but I swear to God, if I hear that you’re talkin’ or flirtin’ with that asshole…” He trails off and gets in my face. “I’ll fuckin’ kill ya myself.”

I can’t breathe.

Lungs tightening and chest aching, I force myself to remain frozen in front of him. It hurts. Every thump of my rapidly beating heart is painful as it forces the blood through my veins. I know my father has never cared for me, but to hear he hates me so much he’s threatening my life is beyond my comprehension.

There’s a heavy pulse where he struck my face, and I know I’ll have a bruise by morning. My skin is already tight, swelling high on my cheekbone. I let my eyes fall to the ground as he keeps slurring.

“Corb and his brother are comin’ over tonight to watch the race. Fix up dinner and disappear into your room. If I see your face or hear even a creak of you walkin’ around up there, I’ll get rid of ‘em and come up with my belt. You hear me, girl?”

“Yes, father,” I croak out.

I wait in place until he shoves the door open roughly, only after he grabs a few more beers, before I hurry into the kitchen to prepare dinner. I flinch as I press a frozen bag of vegetables against my cheek, only for a moment, then throw together the dinner my father set out. The cold was just enough to take the edge off for the time being.

I know tonight isn’t a night I’ll eat, so I make sure everything is prepped and laid out for them before filling a glass of tepid water and a baggie filled with ice. With a quick word to my father that dinner is ready, I escape upstairs.

It’s not long before I hear a couple of engines, then voices. I easily identify my father and Corbin, speaking loudly over the sound of the television. I strain to hear Griffin’s voice, and every now and then, I get a little piece of him here and there, but he’s fairly quiet compared to the other two.

Hours pass, and I never stray from my bed, my body locked and determined not to make a noise my father could complain about. Eventually, their conversation dies down, only the sound of the announcer from time to time, then a soft snore filtering up to my room. Moments later, I hear one door slam shut, just before an engine starts up and wheels over gravel let me know our visitors have left.

I blow out a soundless breath and sit up in my bed, rolling my head back and forth to stretch out my neck. My muscles feel like they’re pulled from how tense I held myself, doing my best not to make a sound.

A soft knock at my door startles me and I stare at it, wide-eyed, heart beating twice as fast. I swear my father was just snoring in the living room. Did he decide to come up here after all? I can feel my inhales pick up in panic until I hear the soft voice.

“Edith? You awake?” The muffled voice of Griffin surprises me and I freeze, not knowing if I should answer. What the hell is he doing? “Tell me I can come in.”

I swallow down my nerves, then as softly as I can, I answer. “Come in.”

My door cracks. I realize all the lights are off in here, so I only see a shadow of his large body slipping into my room before he shuts the door behind him.

“Christ woman. It’s pitch black in here. Your dad’s passed the fuck out. Turn on a light for me.”

I jolt from my frozen state and quickly fumble for my lamp, illuminating my room with a dull yellow light. Siting up straight in my bed, I tuck my feet under me. “What are you doing in here?” I whisper, tugging at my melted baggie of water, no longer cold after icing my cheek for a few hours.

I’ve never had anyone in my room before other than my father, so this feels as if I’m breaking a million rules. Griffin grins, then his face falls when he sees me, the light highlighting the side of my face.

“What the fuck? What happened to you?”

His eyes are on my face, and I touch my cheek. “Nothing major. Just had a mishap today. Why are you here?”

“Your dad said you weren’t feelin’ well, so I wanted to make sure you were okay. Seriously, what the fuck happened?” He reaches out and brushes the tips of his fingers over my swollen skin at the same time his knee hits my mattress. I jerk when I feel his fingers, and he pulls his hand back quickly. “You hurtin’ bad, darlin’?”

I tug harder at the bag, unable to stop looking toward the door where my father could burst through at any moment. “I’m fine. I’m working on that barn build. Accidents can happen. Griffin, you shouldn’t be in here.”

“Don’t worry. I swear he’s passed out for the night. He said you made the food tonight, and I wanted to tell you it was amazing.” I can feel my heavy pulse beating out the side of my throat at his compliment. “I was listening for you to come grab food for yourself to tell you. Did you eat?”

I pull my legs in closer to my body when he sits near me on the edge. It’s overwhelming to have him so close in my personal space and I’m not sure how to act with him here. The thought that my father could walk in at any moment is forefront in my mind, so my eyes keep darting to the door.

Without thinking, I mumble, “I wasn’t hungry. Are you sure he’s asleep?”

Griffin stretches across my bed and picks up a book lying on my nightstand, then turns it over in his hand. “What are you reading?”

I eye the spine and let the smile grow. “It’s Count of Monte Cristo. Do you know the story?” A low rumble outside has both of us turning to the window. When I find his eyes as soon as it dwindles, he’s grinning. Apparently, we’re getting a storm tonight.

“I know of it, but never read it. What’s it about?”

I grab the book from him and run my fingers over the cover, trying to think of how to explain. “It’s about a man who meets the love of his life and tries to provide the best life he can for her. But he’s betrayed by someone he considers a friend and is falsely imprisoned for years. His friend marries the woman he loves, and he spends his time in prison developing skills he’d never had the opportunity to learn before. Eventually, he’s able to escape, and he returns to his home to get his revenge by pretending to be someone he’s not.”

Griffin leans to his side and tucks his fist under his head as he listens. “Sounds complicated. Does he get the girl?”

“It is complicated. And I don’t want to spoil it for you, so I won’t say.”

“Read it to me.” Another crack of thunder, much closer than the last, fills the space. It gives us the sense we’re in our own world, impossible for anyone to disrupt this bubble we’ve created.

Laughing quietly, I shake my head. “You don’t really want me to. Don’t you need to go home?”

He sits up and leans forward. “I’d rather avoid getting soaked. Edith, I guarantee your dad isn’t waking for the night. Come on. Read to me.”

I sigh, turning the pages back to the start. “If you really want me to, I will. But I’m starting at the beginning. It’s one of those books that sucks you in right away. Promise you’ll keep an ear out if you hear him moving around downstairs?”

“I promise.” He shifts around until he’s sitting next to me at the headboard, both of us leaning back to get comfortable. I scoot to the side so he has more room to stretch his legs out, taking the side of my bed that puts his body between me and the door, I feel slightly more at ease when the soft pattering of rain falls against the single window of my room.

I clear my throat, then begin to read, keeping my voice soft. “On the 24th of February 1815, the lookout at Notre-Dame de la Garde signaled the arrival…”

Griffin drops his head back and closes his eyes as I read. I notice him smiling a few times at the happier moments I describe, then furrow his brows when Edmond’s friend obviously starts to play him as a fool. The thunderstorm grows more aggressive outside; the wind howling through the valley at the end of our property, and my eyes begin to grow heavier the later it gets.

“You read the same line three times,” he whispers, pulling me out of the scene, and I realize I’ve started to doze off as the words swim in front of me.

“Hmm?” Dragging my eyes up to him, I grin when I find his pleased smile grinning down at me. I’m not sure when it happened, but as I was reading, at some point his body leaned into mine and we’re curled up together, sharing body heat in my chilly room.

The arm that I never noticed he hung over my shoulders pulls me in closer and he gives me a small side hug. “I said you read the same line three times in a row. It’s gettin’ late and you’re obviously exhausted. Thank you for tonight, Edith.”

“Oh.” Sadness creeps in, disappointed he’s ending the evening. This was nicer than I had expected, and I don’t want it to end. Glancing at the window, I don’t see any more flashing lights of the storm that rolled in, but there’s still a light sound of rain falling. “Sounds like the rain has let up.”

“It has. I should probably get out of here before we both fall asleep. Don’t wanna have to fight off your daddy and make excuses for why I’m in here.” My body turns rigid at that thought, and he rubs his hand up and down my arm to soothe me. “Don’t worry. I’ve been listenin’ for him. I heard a bit of movement a bit ago, then a door, so I think he’s moved on to bed. I’ll sneak outta here and no one will be the wiser.”

I find his eyes, mine darting over his face, absorbing how close and beautiful he is. His lightly colored eyes are perfect with his dark, shaggy hair. Lifting his free hand, he brushes the tips of his fingers over my cheek again. I’m proud of myself for not flinching away this time. “It’s probably a good idea to sneak out now,” I breathe out. I hate I have to say it, but I know it’s right.

“Probably,” he murmurs, his eyes locked on mine, then they fall to my lips. Dipping his head down, he brushes his mouth against mine and I inhale quickly at the contact. Griffin pulls back slightly, checking in on me. “This okay?”

“I think so,” I say, my words barely audible. He cups my cheek and uses the arm he has around my shoulder to pull me closer.

“Only for a minute,” he says against my mouth before diving in and kissing me again. I don’t know what to do, having never kissed someone before, but Griffin works his mouth slowly over mine, making it easy to follow his movements. He exhales quietly, but I feel his flow of breath as he runs his tongue over my lower lip.

Just as I gasp and the tip of mine touches his, we both hear a loud bang come from downstairs and I pull back quickly. “Oh God, I think he’s awake.”

Griffin looks over his shoulder toward the door, his hand running over my cheek before sliding up into my hair. Turning back toward me, his fingers tighten, but it’s not painful like when my father fisted it earlier. Pressing a hard kiss to my mouth, this time abruptly, he places a second to my forehead before pulling away to leave my bed.

“I’ll get out of here. Thank you for tonight, darlin’.” Flashing a toothy grin in my direction, he moves to my door and slips through silently. The room feels so empty, silence burrowing into me now that he’s gone, as if he was never here.

I touch my mouth and know I’ll never forget the way it felt to have him like that. My eyes fall to my book in awe. I finally understand what the line, “Monte Cristo pressed on that pure, beautiful forehead a kiss which made two hearts throb at once, the one violently, the other heavily,” means.

My heart is beating violently, and I cover it to try to calm it down.