Chapter 12
Travis eyed her for a long moment.
Was she getting warmer? It felt ridiculously warm in here, yet she was still wearing that hat.
He knew he should give her an answer to her question about why he was here. Why he cared so much about her safety. But the truth was he wasn’t entirely sure.
Maybe it’s because you care about her?
That thought took root in his brain. How did he care about her when he didn’t really know her, though? That didn’t make much sense.
Keeping her safe felt like some sort of strange compulsion. He didn’t like the idea of her being alone or doing something that put herself at risk.
He didn’t like that she didn’t seem to realize there were people who cared about her and wanted her safe. She seemed so shocked by his concern. And this wasn’t even a fraction of how protective he could get.
She only needed to ask Lacey.
Although this feeling of protectiveness and possessiveness was different than what he felt toward his cousin.
“Your parents didn’t want more kids?” he asked curiously. He couldn’t once remember meeting her parents.
“Oh no, they wouldn’t want to risk another failure.”
“What the fuck?” he snapped, making her jump and shy away.
Shit. He hated that.
He never wanted her to jump like that around him. And he wondered why she was so jumpy. She’d said that it was a rough twenty-four hours. Was that it, though?
Or was it something more? Something else?
“Another failure? Are you talking about yourself being a failure?” Because he couldn’t understand that.
“Uh, yes. I thought that was clear.”
“You can’t talk about yourself like that!”
“But that’s the way they saw me. Well, my mother.
Most of the time, I don’t think that my father remembered I existed.
He was a research scientist and he could get really passionate and involved in his work.
I’m unsure if he even wanted a kid. I think my mother wanted someone she could experiment with.
Or perhaps it was to help her image. Having a child as a child psychologist probably helped make her more relatable.
And she needed that as she could be cold and formal.
Unapproachable. I’m guessing she wasn’t always like that with other people, though. ”
Travis just gaped at her. Why hadn’t he considered that her life at home was shit? He’d really been a selfish brat, hadn’t he?
He’d seen the expensive clothes and the big mansion and made assumptions.
“Did she . . . did she tell you that you were a failure?” he asked.
“Oh yes. All the time.”
The casual way she said that spoke volumes to him. It was clear it was something that she’d heard often. And while she might think or act like it didn’t affect her, he knew it had to have.
There was no way that something so vile couldn’t have hurt her.
“In what way were you a failure?”
She gave him a shocked look. “Well, I think it was obvious.”
“Pretend it isn’t,” he said through gritted teeth. He was holding himself under tight control. He didn’t want to say anything that might upset her or make her think that he was angry at her.
When that really wasn’t the case.
Her parents, on the other hand, could take a flying leap off the nearest bridge. And he’d happily give them a push.
She held up her fingers and started ticking them off.
“I didn’t speak until I was two. Didn’t read and write until I went to school.
I could barely speak. And when I did speak, I was too quiet or I would stutter over my words.
I wasn’t very intelligent. I got average grades at school.
Even getting A’s wasn’t really enough because I wasn’t gifted. I wasn’t special.”
Was she serious? Were these all things that her parents had said to her?
“I was awkward. I never knew what to say or how to act. I’d get nervous and bump into things, knock things over.
Or I’d freeze and not know how to react.
I had absolutely no musical ability. None at all.
” She shuddered as though that had brought back a bad memory and rubbed at her knuckles.
Then she reached up to rub her head. Her hat slipped to the side, falling off but she didn’t seem to notice.
Something was wrong. His gaze moved over her, looking for whatever it was that he’d spotted. There at her hairline. Was that a lump? Some bruising?
He sat up straighter. Had someone fucking hurt her?
“What else? Let’s see. I was ungrateful because I got to live in a beautiful house with expensive clothes yet never took care of anything properly.
A fleck of dirt wasn’t allowed. I couldn’t speak any other languages.
I was still wetting the bed at seven. And I can’t believe I just said that to you. ” She went bright red.
“Caren, I want you to listen to me for a moment.” He reached out and gently took hold of her hands, squeezing them lightly. At least she seemed to be warmer now. “I don’t care about that. What I need is for you to promise that you won’t be scared of me.”
“Scared of you? Why would I be?”
“Because I feel like I’m about to fucking explode and I want to know if that’s going to frighten you.”
“Are you angry at me?” She blinked rapidly, trying to pull her hand away. But he held on tight.
“No, Goldie. I’m not fucking mad at you.
But I want to hunt down your parents, lock them in a small room, and torture them the way that they tortured you for years.
And that sort of thing might not seem sane and it might scare some people.
I don’t want it to scare you. Because I would never harm you. ”
She just gaped at him. Then, to his complete shock, she grinned.
“Why are you smiling?”
“You just . . . I mean, it’s nice of you to say that.”
Ahh, she didn’t think that he was serious. He was, but she didn’t need to know that.
“Not me being nice, Goldie. What they did to you . . . they deserve everything bad that comes their way. You said that your mother still lives in Albany, right?” Was that why she’d gone there? Why would she visit that bitch?
And did she have something to do with the bruise on Caren’s forehead?
Because if she had . . .
“Yes.”
Was she not going to tell him where she’d been?
“I’ve just been to visit her, actually.” She reached up a hand to her forehead, clearly without thought then patted at her hair frantically. “Where’s my hat?”
“It slid off, Goldie.”
He grabbed it, handing it to her. She attempted to put it back on, but he grasped hold of her hand, holding it still.
“You don’t need to put it back on, I’ve already seen the bruise and the lump.”
Caren bit her lip.
“You weren’t going to tell me that you’d hurt yourself, were you?”
“It’s really not your business, Travis.”
That might have hurt if he’d had thinner skin. Luckily, he didn’t.
“You’re still not getting it, Goldie. You are my business.
Because I’m making you my business. And no, it’s not just because of Lacey.
It’s not simply due to my guilt. I don’t know exactly what the rest of my reasons are, but this is just the way I feel.
I think you need someone to take care of you .
. . even though you’d deny that. But I want to be that person. And you’re going to let me.”
She rolled her eyes.
The brat.
“I’m going to let you, am I? Just like that?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
She winced and moved her arm.
Fuck. What else hurt? What had happened to her?
Travis bit down the urge to demand that she tell him. Instead, he leaned in. “You are. I care what happens to you, Caren. Does the reason why I care really matter?”
She swallowed heavily. “It’s going to make it hard when I have to move on and I no longer have that.”
Shit. He hadn’t thought about that. About her leaving . . .
“You just got here.”
“Me living here is only temporary. So, you see, it’s better for me to just go on the way I always have. On my own.”
“I don’t like that. And while you’re here, you can have a break and let me help. Would you let Lacey help? Let her in?”
“Lacey is my friend.”
He held out his arms. “What am I? Can’t I be your friend? Or is it because I’m a man?” He threw her words back at her.
She gave a huff. “You’re smarter than you look.”
“Thank you.”
“Not sure that was a compliment.”
“Well, I happen to know that I look very smart, so I’m going to take it as one.”