30. Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty
Blaire
A fter the mortification wore off, I was able to think with a clear head. Being thrust into a situation like we were, I was forced to come to terms with everyone knowing that I was sleeping with my boss. I don’t know how long I was going to put off telling people, but I know that I definitely didn’t want anyone to find out quite like that. But I know the feelings I have for him are real. They’re new, but I recognize them for what they are.
I love him.
I park my car in my usual parking spot behind Rogue and walk around to the front to see if Reid is free to talk. Walking into the tattoo shop is always like taking a time machine to a different world. Aspen Ridge is fairly whimsical. Every place has a different vibe, and nothing is ordinary. Bean Haven is very boho chic, while Barrel House screams speakeasy, Book Bound is a woodland fairytale, and The Night Owl is very Manhattan bar scene.
But going into Rogue? It’s like walking into an art gallery. Clean black and white lines, and framed artwork covers every inch of wall space in various sized and shaped frames. There’s a reception area in front of floor-to-ceiling glass windows and a single door. The floor, which is more like a round fishbowl, has several stations for various artists, both permanent and guest. It’s amazing and not at all what I expected from a tattoo shop. Especially one in a small town like ours.
The place is empty when I walk in, so I open the big door to the floor to find Reid.
“Hellooooo?”
Reid pops out of his office, glasses on his face and iPad in his hand, looking happy to see me.
“Hey, B, what’s up?”
“Got a second to talk?”
“Always, what’s going on?”
“I know you know about me and Dallas, and I’m not mad you told him where I live, so can we skip the weird shit and jump to the present?”
He laughs at me before talking, “Yeah, he’s pretty gone for you, I’m glad I’m forgiven. What happened?”
“His brothers walked in on us at work as we were finishing up . . . you know.”
His head bobs and he runs his fingers through his long hair, seemingly slightly uncomfortable with the conversation.
“We may have torn down this huge room filled with old barrels. Like, they came crashing down. Then all of his brothers ran in. Everyone was arriving for work and must have heard it. The freaking ground shook under us, I swear.”
Reid starts laughing and then starts apologizing for laughing.
“It’s not funny, you big jerk!”
“So, what’s the issue besides being embarrassed?”
“Well, I wasn’t ready for his family to find out we were sleeping together.”
“Is that all you’re doing?”
I nervously cross and uncross my legs, unsure what to say.
“Look, you need to decide how you’re feeling and let him in on it because he’s a total goner for you. I’ve never seen Dallas worked up that bad over anything, and when he knew you were upset and he couldn’t get to you? Well, he was dumb enough to try to take his frustration out on me, if that tells you anything.”
“I love him,” I blurt out.
“Yeah. Kinda thought so. So, what’s the reservation?”
“That I won’t be enough for him. That he’ll tire of me being damaged goods. That he’ll leave me and I’ll be all alone again.”
“Listen up. Dallas or no Dallas, you’ll never be alone again because you’ve got people here who care about you. You’ve been here six months and you’ve already buried yourself deep within this community. People love you. I don’t want you worrying about that. You don’t want to live with regrets and fear. I know that more than anyone. So live, because you can. Not everyone gets that option.”
The next day, I wait for Dallas to leave his office before I slip inside, closing the door behind me. I’m so ready to tell this man that I love him that it’s eating me alive. After my talk with Reid, I went home and spent time by myself, soul-searching and thinking about what I want. Reid was right, I need to live. I may have claimed my body back as my own, after years of therapy, but the lasting effects of the trauma I survived have deeper-reaching consequences outside of the physical ones I sustained. I want to live. And not in fear. And I haven’t been doing that.
I slink over to his desk, put the folder down, and shimmy out of my panties, pulling them over my heels and tripping into his desk in the process. I’m so excited to show him my proposal for the events aspect of the distillery, hoping that this will be a huge gesture of my commitment to make him as happy as he makes me.
I take a seat in the chair he loves so much when his computer wakes up from the sleep mode it was on. I recline, kind of loving the feel of it, when I see a file on his computer screen that demands my attention and sends chills down my spine. My palms start to sweat as I study the icon.
Blaire Hollis.
Unable to resist the temptation, I open the file with shaky hands and my mouth drops open as the preview of each item loads. I click open the first item, my parent’s arrest record, making me a ward of the state. The next is a statement from the teacher who noticed the bruises on me. I click to the next, my hands shaking like a leaf, my mouth dry as the Sahara. It’s a photo of my face at 17, bruised eye and cheek, cut lip. My eyes are withdrawn, sunken in, with no life behind them. A tear drops from my face onto the top of my hand that hovers over the trackpad. The third file, the police report detailing the sexual and physical abuse, the neglect. The fourth, a hospital report detailing the rape kit results, std and pregnancy screening, and injuries. More photos—the bruises around my wrists and hips. The file is large, extensive, and incredibly thorough. I click through rapidly as the tears cascade down my face. Dallas’ door opens then, and when he sees me his face falls.
“Baby, I can explain . . .”
“You aren’t even going to try to deny it?”
“I’m a lot of things, princess, but a liar isn’t one of them.”
He takes two hesitant steps in my direction and I stand.
“Aren’t you though?” I yell.
“It’s not what it looks like. I never?—”
“It’s exactly what it looks like! How long, Dallas? How long have you fucking had this?”
“Blaire, give me a chance to explain, dammit.” He steps toward me again, his hands extended outward in my direction like he’s reaching for me, pleading with his body language.
“You told me to trust you. You told me you’d protect me. You fucking told me you’d make sure no one would hurt me ever again. THIS,” I point to his computer, my voice raising, “this fucking hurts me!” I press a hand over my heart and one over my mouth, sobs racking my body. He rushes to me, his arms surrounding me, pulling me into his firm chest. I breathe him in deeply before shoving him off me with all my strength.
“Don’t! Don’t you dare fucking touch me, Dallas. You just couldn’t help yourself, huh? Couldn’t stand that I had secrets, you just had to go and dig them up. Because you’re a selfish dick. Whatever this is”—I wave between us, his eyes empty and defeated, scared and lost—“this is over. We’re done.”
“Baby, I promise I never opened it. Sit your ass down and let me explain why I have it in the first place.”
“Fuck you, Dallas. Save it.”
I move past him to leave his office, tears streaming down my face in an uncontrollable flow. His hand reaches out to grab me, but I jerk away.
“Blaire, sit the hell back down and let me explain.”
“I told you not to touch me. You lost that privilege. Remember what you said? I allow it to happen. I don’t anymore. I mean it, this is over. I’m done.”
I don’t look back at him as I race from his office down the hallway to my own, my heart shattered into a million pieces, every inhale like I’m breathing in shards of glass. I grab my purse and jacket and race out of the building to my car. The winter air freezes my wet face and I welcome the sting of pain it brings. I settle into my car, my hands shaking as I try to put the key into the ignition, dropping it several times before I’m able to focus and turn it over. The cold air from the vents blasts my raw face as it works to warm up. My chest aches, the pressure becoming too much. I reverse out of my parking spot and see Dallas jogging my way, I throw it in to drive and step on the gas, spinning on the packed snow, salt, and gravel before straightening and driving away, leaving him standing in the middle of the road behind me.
My eyes fill with more tears, flooding them as I turn out of the long driveway and onto the winding mountain road that will take me away from this place. How could he do this? I opened up to him in my own way, on my own time. Did he already know? This whole time? So many questions rack my brain. He told me he used a private investigator when Ivy was back in town and in trouble, I bet that’s exactly what he did for me. But he had no right. That’s a complete invasion of my privacy. Fuck. Why? I thought he loved me, too. It felt like he loved me. I swear I fucking felt it! But now I know the hard truth of it all. He’s a fixer and I was just another damaged thing he could try to put back together.
I struggle to catch my breath and focus on the winding road in front of me. All of it was pity. Everything I knew would happen. His behavior was all out of pity. Poor Blaire and her tragic past, all alone with no family, no home, no one but herself to rely on.
“Aaaaahh!” I scream. “I am no one’s fucking pity project!”
I slam my hand on my steering wheel as my eyes squint and swell from the onslaught of tears. I wipe vigorously at my face.
I barely notice the blur of a white vehicle coming up fast from my left.
I barely feel the air being pushed from my lungs as my body jerks forward into the exploding airbag when I slam on my brakes.
I barely hear the sounds of my car screeching, the metal crunching.
I barely register the pain in my stomach and chest.
I barely see the snow or smoke.
And then there’s nothing at all.