Chapter 28
I’m woken by the buzzing under my pillow. I have no clue what time it is, but it’s still dark outside. I reach for the phone blindly until my hand finds purchase and hit the accept button.
“Hello,” I mumble.
“Hello, Presley. Did I wake you?”
I’m instantly alert as Sebastian’s voice registers. Damn it, if I wasn’t half-asleep when it rang, I would’ve thought about the fact that no one that has this number would be calling me before sunrise.
I switch the bedside lamp on and sit up. “How did you get this number?”
“Now, is that any way to speak to your husband? Especially one as forgiving as I am?”
“Forgiving?” I scoff. “You’re one of the least forgiving people I know, Sebastian. Now, how did you get my number?”
He releases a dark chuckle. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find you? That I wouldn’t have people watching you? I knew where you were heading the moment I realized you had left the hospital. Getting a new phone number was a cute attempt to evade me, I must admit, but I’ve grown tired of this game, Presley. People are starting to question your absence. Visiting your parents for three weeks is a bit excessive, don’t you think?”
My blood runs cold. It’s one thing if he knows where I’m at. It’s an entirely different ballgame if he genuinely has eyes on me. I’ve been expecting him to possibly show up, but not once did I consider he’d have me followed. If Sebastian came to Hope Springs, he’d stick out like a sore thumb. My family knows him; half this town knows what he looks like. I’d have a warning, and I could ensure I had a barrier in place. An unknown threat seems almost worse. If I don’t know what to look for, how can I protect myself? I think back to the two times I’ve been in town. Was someone following me? Was there anyone suspicious in the bar last night? I take a deep breath to gather the strength I need.
“First of all, it’s not a game, Sebastian. Secondly, I’m not comin’ back. In fact, I’ve hired an attorney to file for divorce.” Okay, so I will be hiring an attorney on Monday. Close enough. “You should expect to hear from her soon. If you have anything else to say to me, you can do it through her.”
I’m just about to hang up when he says, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Presley. You’re not going to like the consequences.”
“I’m quite familiar with the consequences you’re capable of deliverin’, Sebastian. I have several broken bones that never healed properly to prove it. Nothing you say will make me change my mind. I’m done livin’ with your abuse.”
“Trust me when I say you have no idea what I’m capable of if you push this, Presley. I didn’t spend the last twelve years of my life trying to smother your inner country bumpkin to have it all thrown away over nothing. Do you even hear yourself? After only a few weeks back in the Deep South, your hick is showing.”
“Nothing?!” I shout, completely ignoring his remark about my accent. Fact is, I’ve never been able to conceal it when I get fired up, but since I so rarely fought back, he wouldn’t know that. “Did you forget about the part where you continuously beat me? Or when you cheated on me? How about the part right before I left where you raped me?”
“I did no such thing. We both know you wanted it. That you get off when I’m rough with you because you’re my dirty whore. Now, I won’t repeat myself, watch how you’re speaking to me, or you’re going to force me to punish you twice as hard.”
I throw the covers off my body and leap out of bed, enraged. “Fuck you, Sebastian! I am your nothing! You don’t get to tell me what to do ever again! I should’ve left years ago! There’s not a snowball’s chance in hell I will ever come back, so you’d better prepare yourself now. I will be filin’ for divorce, and I will no longer be your wife. If you want to push me, trust me when I say you won’t like the consequences. Don’t forget about that little video I have on my phone.”
Holy shit. I can’t believe I just threatened him! Don’t get me wrong; it’s long overdue, and I won’t take it back, but my lord, I didn’t think I had it in me. As much as I’d like to pretend I’m not afraid of Sebastian, you can’t just reverse over a decade of psychological warfare by creating a little distance. There’s complete silence on the other line. I don’t know why I’m still entertaining this conversation, but I check to see if the call is still connected.
It is.
I clear my throat. “Lose this number, Sebastian. If I never talk to you again, that’ll be too soon.”
I hang up before he has a chance to reply. Ugh! I throw my phone on the mattress and pull my bathrobe over my shoulders. I’ll never go back to sleep now, so there’s no point in trying. I can smell the coffee brewing in the kitchen, so I might as well head down there and get some. I storm out of my room and come to a grinding halt when I reach the top of the stairs. At the bottom, leaning against the wall, lazily sipping a cup of coffee, is none other than Beckett Armstrong.
He raises a single brow at me in a challenge. Oh, screw him. I’m not going to let him stop me from getting my cup of liquid gold.
“Excuse me.” I give him a get out of my way look. “I need caffeine.”
To my surprise, Beck steps aside, allowing me entry into the kitchen. I grab a mug from the cabinet, pour some French Roast into the cup, and add a healthy amount of milk and sugar. I can feel him behind me, watching my every move. After taking my first sip, I turn around to face him.
“What are you doing here?” I look at the clock on the microwave. “Don’t you have work to do or somethin’?”
That’s the thing about running a ranch. There are no days off. Not really. The animals depend on you to care for them. The best you can hope for is to be on-call one or two days a week and not be needed. That’s what Beck’s dad did while we were growing up. Beckett never was afraid of hard work, though.
He sets his mug on the counter before leaning against it, ankles casually crossed in front of him. He’s no more than two feet away, and I’m fairly certain that was intentional. “You okay, Pres?”
“I’m fine.” I lift my chin. “Now, answer my question. Why are you here? Why are you drinkin’ my parents’ coffee instead of your own?” I look around. “Speaking of... where are they?”
Beck inclines his head toward the window that overlooks the front of the house. “They went for a ride to catch the sunrise.”
“That still doesn’t explain why you’re here at six-thirty on a Saturday morning.”
He gives me his all-knowing smile. “I have a standing invitation to join your mom for coffee every morning. When I got here, she was just heading to the stables but told me to help myself like I always do.”
My mouth gapes. “Wait... what? Why? Since when?”
His mouth kicks up in the corner. “Can I answer one question before you bombard me with twenty more?”
I set my coffee down and make a hurry-up gesture with my hand. “By all means.”
“Since I got back.”
I narrow my eyes. “I haven’t seen you in the house once in the three weeks I’ve been here.”
“That’s because your mom asked me to give you some space.”
“And that’s no longer the case?” When Beck shakes his head, I add, “Why’s that?”
He searches my eyes for a moment before replying. “Because I’m done giving you space, and I told her as much. You’ve had more than enough by now, don’t you think?”
I rest my elbows on the counter behind me. “Shouldn’t I have a say in this?”
Beck’s gaze drops, and when I look down, I see why. The belt on my robe loosened just enough to reveal the thin tank top I wore to bed. Of course, my traitorous nipples are saluting him again. I pull my robe closed and tie the belt in a double knot, which only seems to amuse him.
I snap my fingers in front of my face. “My eyes are up here, Beckett.”
“I’m well aware, Presley.” His full lips form into a cocky grin as he taps his temple. “Every inch of you is stored up here. Well... almost every inch.”
I huff, completely ignoring the implication about my breasts. That comment should piss me off because there was nothing gentlemanly about it, but my stupid hormones disagree. The moment the words left Beck’s mouth, I had to stop myself from leaning into him so he could feel me up like a horny teenager. After listening to Sebastian spouting insults and threats earlier, the last thing I should want is for anyone to touch me. Lord, my head’s a mess of contradictions right now.
“Whatever. If you won’t leave, I’ll take my coffee in the bedroom.”
Before I get the chance to walk away, he asks, “Who were you talking to earlier?”
Did he hear my conversation with Sebastian? I wasn’t exactly quiet now that I think about it. Crap. How am I supposed to explain that?
“What do you mean?” I’ve learned that when all else fails, denial is your friend.
“Was it him?” A muscle jumps in his cheek. “Your husband? I couldn’t hear much of what you were sayin’, but it didn’t sound like a pleasant conversation.”
So much for denial. I should’ve known he wouldn’t let it go so easily.
“That’s none of your business, Beckett. Nothing I do or say is any of your business.”
I tell myself not to fidget under his intense scrutiny. “What if I want to make it my business?”
“What happened to, ‘I don’t want anything from you, darlin’?” I lower my voice mockingly on that last part. “Besides, I don’t think your girlfriend would appreciate that very much.”
“Things change. Including the fact that I don’t have a girlfriend. Technically, I haven’t had one of those since you.”
When Beck went chasing after Nicky last night, the possibility that they’d reconcile was nagging at me. I snort to disguise the relief I feel, reminding myself I shouldn’t care one way or the other.
“Pretty sure Nicky would see it differently.”
Beck nods once. “And that was part of the problem.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Can we please cut through all the bull? If you have somethin’ to say, Beckett, just say it.”
“Where’s your wedding ring?”
I shrug, eyes falling to the floor. “Your guess is as good as mine at this point.”
“Did you leave him? Is that why you came back?”
My eyes fill with tears, but I manage to hold them in. “Yes.”
“Why?”
My head snaps up. “Why what?”
Beck’s face falls, probably because I’m about to lose the battle with my tears. “Pres.”
I flinch when he reaches a hand out. I’ve hated being touched for so long, it’s a habit. My actions have absolutely nothing to do with the man before me, but the look on his face says he thinks it does.
“What was that?”
“I told you yesterday not to touch me, Beckett. That hasn’t changed.” When denial fails, try diversion. That’s another thing I’ve learned during my marriage.
He considers that for a moment. “And that’s all it is?”
I raise my eyebrows. “What else would it be?”
Beck studies my face, his intense focus making me fidget. I swear he’s trying to ferret out every single thought I’ve ever had.
“What are you hiding, Presley?”
I swallow, trying my damnedest not to react. “What makes you think I’m hiding something?”
His brown eyes drill into me. “Because I got really good at reading people while I was in the Navy. And like it or not, I know you. I have no doubt you’re hiding something pretty damn significant.”
I shake my head. “You don’t know me, Beck. Not anymore. Just like I don’t know you.”
He hasn’t stopped staring at me, looking at me like he used to when we were kids. Like his proprietary claim on my heart is infallible. Like he’s one-hundred percent confident I’m his, and I’ll always be his, no matter what life throws our way.
If only that were true.
I’m not sure how much time passes before Beck stands to his full height and takes a few steps backward. “That’s where you’re wrong, Pres. I may not know what’s gone down in your life since you left, and vice versa, but I know you. I see you, whether you want me to or not. You can’t hide whatever it is that you’re holdin’ onto forever. When you’re ready to talk, you know where to find me.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” I mutter.
The infuriating man simply winks before stepping onto the porch. I watch out the kitchen window as he walks away, wondering what the hell I’m going to do about him. Avoiding Beck would take some serious effort, and quite frankly, I don’t think I want to. I’ve been lugging around secrets and shame for so long, I didn’t realize how tightly wound that made me until now. And the reason I’ve come to that realization is that when Beck was standing here next to me just now, for the first time in forever, I felt like I could breathe. I felt safe. Strong. Free.
Not once did I censor my words in fear of being struck. I didn’t worry that I was less than perfect standing here in my bathrobe with no makeup and messy hair. The disgust I’d feel when using my body as a vessel to mollify someone else’s rage was nonexistent. My integrity was firmly in place instead of being sacrificed to feed a brutal man’s ego. Everything that made me anxious daily just disappeared. At least for those few moments. I don’t think people realize what a luxury those things are until they’ve had them stripped away. I know I certainly didn’t. After everything I’ve endured, I am well aware of how truly precious it is.
The brief reminder of what life feels like when you’re not always walking on eggshells reaffirms that I did the right thing by leaving Sebastian. The road ahead might not be easy, but I feel better equipped to handle it. Maybe it’s this ranch, maybe it’s the people, hell, maybe it’s just the fact that I’m not living under the same roof with him anymore. Whatever the reason, the fact remains that I’ll no longer allow Sebastian to control me. I’ll no longer let anyone control me.