Chapter One #2
In a white shirt, crisp and clean, that strikingly contrasts with the ink peeking out from beneath the rolled-up sleeves, is the one man I thought I would never see again.
His skin is just as I remember, the color of sun-soaked olives and glowing with a healthy warmth.
He’s more muscular and rugged than the last time I saw him.
Now his body appears to be a sculpture come to life, all lean muscles that look like they’ve been carved from granite.
His dark hair is longer and neatly slicked back, so different from the short military buzz cut he’d had when I saw him last.
And Christ, was that during his sentencing nine years ago?
He’s out of prison. I had no idea he had been released. Good lord, could he now be looking for those who put him there? I imagine he’d love nothing more than to avenge the life that was stolen from him, and I am, no doubt, at the top of the list.
The thought brings a tremble to my hands, and I drop the bottle, attracting attention to me.
He turns around, and I suck in a sharp breath when those dark eyes lock on mine.
God, I remember those eyes the most. Pools of rich dark brown that betray little of the man’s thoughts.
The same eyes that had watched me as I’d said the words that sealed his fate.
I hold my breath as I wait for him to recognize me. For his eyes to cloud with rage and announce to everyone in the room the kind of heartless monster that I am, but his eyes simply drop to the bottled water on the floor before turning back to his patient.
He doesn’t recognize me.
I don’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. Sure, I was no more than a girl when I ruined his life, but how can he not recognize me? Is this it? The guilt I’ve held for years…
“Hey,” Samantha’s soothing voice is followed by a gentle hand on my arm, and then I’m being steered out of the room. “Come with me.”
With a last glance at the man’s back, I let Samantha drag me away from the room, down the hall, and to the kitchen. “Sam…”
“You’re pale,” she whispers, walking to the fridge and grabbing another bottle of water before uncapping it for me. “Drink this.”
“Thanks,” I say, taking a few sips of the water before my trembling hands threaten to drop it, so I quickly place it on the counter.
“What’s wrong, Cara?” she asks, placing a gentle hand over my forehead. “Do you need to see Doc too?”
My brows wing up. “Doc?”
“Yeah, the doctor Saint brought with him. He’s been by a couple of times to attend to the women, but I suppose you’ve never seen him before,” she says, leaning against the counter opposite and watching me. “What’s gotten into you today, Cara?”
Ghosts of my past.
I consider not telling her the truth, but before I know it, the words are spilling out of my mouth. “I know him,” I say, my voice shaky with nerves. “The doctor… Oh no. No, no, no.” I cover my face with my hands and shake my head.
Samantha steps forward, her eyes bright with concern as she takes my hand. “Doc? Did he hurt you?” Her voice is hard and vengeful. “I don’t care if the Steel Rebels own this place, I will kick him out if he hurt—”
“No,” I hurry to say, cutting her off. “James…I mean, Doc never hurt me. He’s the only person from my past who’s ever tried to help me, and I rewarded that by betraying him.”
The fire in her eyes wanes but doesn’t completely disappear. “Tell me.”
I release her grip to grab the water, something to wet my dry mouth.
“I’ve told you about my stepfather and how I left home the second I turned eighteen, but I never told you about my stepbrother,” I murmur, looking down at the water bottle.
“He died nine years ago. He was older than me by a decade, and he was much crueler than my stepfather, if you can believe that.” The sound that escapes my lips could be called a laugh, but there is nothing funny about my past. “Eric, my stepbrother, saw me as his little servant. By the time I was twelve, I was cooking, cleaning, and doing all the household chores. As long as I kept the place clean and stayed out of his way, it was usually fine. But I messed up one night after Eric had his friends over for a party while his dad was gone.”
My mind drifts to that night, and I remember the pungent smell of stale cigarette smoke and the living room cluttered with beer bottles and empty food containers. Well, I’d thought they were all empty.
“Cara.”
I look up at Samantha again. “I fell asleep before his friends left. Usually, I’d stay in my room with the door locked and listen for them to leave so I could clean up before bed.
But I was so tired that night, I fell asleep.
Eric was passed out on the couch and my stepfather was still gone when I woke up in the morning.
I rushed to get everything cleaned up before I had to leave for school, but I ran out of time.
I should have stayed home from school to finish, but I had a test that day, so I gathered what I could of the trash and left.
It was the wrong thing to do. Eric was waiting for me when I got home from school, and he was furious.
Apparently, in my rush to collect as much of the mess as I could, I threw out his drug stash.
It was in some box or something that I’d grabbed.
I thought everything I threw away was trash, but I guess one of the boxes held the coke he and his friends used to get high.
” I look down at the water bottle again and pick at the label, unable to meet Sam’s eyes as memories of that night threaten to overwhelm me. “He attacked me.”
“Cara…”
“It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten physical with me, but it was the angriest I’d ever seen him.
He’d left the front left the door open, and someone heard me scream and rushed in to help.
I’d never seen the man before, but the stranger punched Eric to get him away from me.
He only hit him once, but Eric tripped on a beer can and hit his head on the table.
” I shudder at the memory, wanting to erase it from my mind, but it’s something I have to live with.
“There was so much blood… Eric died that night, and my savior…”
“Doc?”
I nod. “He was arrested,” I whisper, ashamed that I had no control over that. “My stepfather forced me to make a statement against him, so I told the cops that he had attacked my stepbrother without provocation.”
I wait for Sam’s condemnation, and I realize that I prefer it to the pity I read in her eyes. “How old were you?”
“Twelve.” Samantha steps forward and wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a tight embrace. I sniff back the tears. God knows I don’t deserve to cry. “He doesn’t recognize me. I…I don’t know if I should tell him, apologize for it, or just hide until he leaves.”
“You don’t have to talk to him if you’re not ready,” Samantha says, pulling back from the hug, but keeping her hands on my shoulders. “You were just a child, Cara. One who was traumatized and abused. Don’t blame yourself for a past that was out of your control.”
I nod.
A part of me wants to lean into this woman for the affection I was denied as a child, but I am reminded that mine is not the biggest problem at the moment.
Samantha shouldn’t be here with me when there’s another woman who needs her more.
“You should go back to Abby,” I say, taking a step back.
“I’ll…um, I guess I’ll go do something else until they leave. ”
She nods, and we both step into the hallway just as the two men exit the medical room. “There you are. I was wondering where you ran off to,” Saint says when he spots us. “Miss Dupree, could you stay with Abby while I talk to Sam for a moment?”
At the mention of my name, Doc looks up sharply, and when his eyes lock on mine, I see it this time. By the way, his eyes darken and his face goes carefully blank, there is no doubt that he remembers.