Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
I had one more day until I got my stitches out and I couldn’t wait.
I had so many on my side and on my arm that had gone through the glass lamp.
My bruises were starting to turn yellow.
I couldn’t stand to look at myself naked.
When I got in and out of the shower, I looked at either the floor or the ceiling to avoid accidentally seeing myself in the large mirror above the sink.
Mac had gotten me the comfiest loungewear sets with Bram’s money. I hadn’t worn anything else in almost a week. I was currently wearing a grayish purple, waffle-knit lounge set. The pants were long and loose in the leg. The top was long-sleeved and hung off one shoulder.
Before Vivian left for work today, she offered to help pull all my hair up in the bathroom.
“I need to thank you,” she said as she collected my hair into her hands.
“What for?” I asked.
“I’ve seen Reid more in the past week than I’ve seen him in the past year.” She smiled at me through the mirror. “I know he’s not here for me, even though he strangely won’t hang out with you whenever he’s here.” Her smile turned sad. “The other night we had a good conversation.”
Must be nice. He barely talked to me despite looking like he had something to say.
“It gives me hope that we can have many more conversations,” she added.
I knew I shouldn’t ask, but I couldn’t help it. “Did something happen between you two to make you go so long without seeing each other?”
She went quiet until she finished with my hair. “There. All done.”
I turned to face her and her eyes dropped to my neck for only a second before looking away.
“Mac told me that Reid told you about our past with their father,” she said.
“He did.”
Her eyes flicked to meet mine and stayed there.
It was as if she refused to let her gaze drop lower, where my ugly yellowing neck was on full display.
“Reid resents me for not getting us away from his father. He’s mad that he had to be the one to save us.
And he has every right to be. I should have found a way to get us away from my ex-husband.
I should have protected my children.” Her eyes watered.
“The other night, he told me he’s been trying to look at our past from my perspective.
Instead of just silently blaming me, he asked me questions that I think have been festering in him for a long time.
I feel like it’s a good step. It gives me hope that one day we’ll be healed from the past. I think I need to thank you for that as well. ”
“I gave up hoping a long time ago,” I blurted.
She stared at me with understanding in her eyes. “I did, too. For a time.”
“When did you start allowing yourself to hope again?”
“After my little boy risked his life to save us.” She reached up to adjust something she disliked about my ponytail. “I hope you’re able to start hoping for things again.”
A little bit after lunchtime, Bram came in from the garage and poked his head into the room. “Would you be okay for an hour alone? I got to run by work really quick.”
I was sitting in bed catching up on schoolwork. I looked up from the laptop I had borrowed from him. “Kane’s Motors? You own it, right?”
He nodded. “I do.”
So when I had asked him at the café if his boss was a good man, he had been talking about himself. He had told me that he wasn’t perfect, but he tried very hard to be. Every day.
In my opinion, he was doing a good job.
“I’ll be fine. I’m just going to be working on school stuff,” I said.
“Okay. I’ll be back.”
A few minutes later I could hear his bike roaring to life.
It was the first time I’d heard him drive it since I’d been here.
Mac had told me he also owned a truck, and he had been using that while he fixed up the damage I’d caused to his motorcycle.
Since he was driving it today, it made me wonder if he was done working on it.
Silence followed after he drove away. It felt eerie and lonely.
I was happy to have the distraction of schoolwork.
I was so focused, the hour flew by quickly.
I was almost done when I heard knocking out in the living room.
I looked up from the computer and listened.
It was silent, but my heart still raced.
I jumped when there was another knock. It was louder this time and more insistent. I set the computer aside. Before I could get to my feet, the knocks turned into pounding. It was clearly someone at the front door.
I wanted to ignore it. I wanted to hide. But what if it was Bram? What if he was locked out and he was pounding like that so I could hear him at the door because he had disconnected the doorbell? It was past the time he’d said he’d be back.
My hands fisted at my sides.
I can do this.
The pounding was nonstop until I reached the living room.
I froze when it suddenly ended. “Bram?” I tried to say loudly, but my voice cracked.
Slowly, I went to the bay window by the door and peeked through the blinds.
No one was at the door. Then I heard a strange noise come from the garage.
I glanced in that direction, wondering if he’d found a way to get in through there.
I heard the door connecting the garage to the house open, and I sighed. “Were you locked out?” I asked as I started heading back toward the hall that led to the guest room and the garage.
As I was about to pass the stairs, someone came around the corner. Only it wasn’t Bram.
Eyes widening, I stopped walking abruptly.
How?
How is he here?
Clay took me in from head to toe. “You’ve been a bad girl, Charlotte.”
He began to close the short distance between us and I backed up quickly, almost stumbling.
He grinned as if delighted to see me cower. “Clearly I didn’t punish you enough if you thought it was all right to run away like that. Your mother is very, very disappointed in you.”
I had to get away.
I had to run.
But my body wouldn’t listen. All I could do was back up, which he quickly stopped when he was close enough to grab me by my upper arm.
“Look at you.” He ran a finger down my still-healing cheek. “You’re trembling.” There was excitement in his voice.
He glanced around. “Interesting place you’ve run off to. What was even more interesting is the guy you’re shacking up with.” His fingertip dropped to the neckline of my shirt and ran along the edge toward my bare shoulder. “If you wanted an older cock to suck, you know I would have given you mine.”
My stomach churned and I began to shake even more.
“You know how much I’ve wanted to have you.” His finger doubled back until it reached the top of my breast. He dipped the tip into my shirt and began to pull it down. I wasn’t wearing a bra. I hadn’t in nearly a week because it was too tight around my ribs.
When I realized he was trying to expose my breast, I finally felt the urge to fight. I jerked away from him, not getting far. He yanked me closer, fisting the front of my shirt and ripping it halfway down the middle.
I screamed as my breast was exposed and I swung at him, clawing his face with my nails.
He growled in frustration and I knew he was going to hit me.
I screamed again, dropping to the floor, hoping my dead weight would force him to let go. His grip slipped and I tried to crawl away as fast as I could. He caught me by my hair.
“Help!” I screamed as loud as I could even though it hurt.
He pulled on my hair, forcing me to roll over onto my back. I kicked. I slapped. It was no use. He deflected everything as he climbed on top of me.
“Someone help me!” I screamed with all my might again.
“No one’s going to fucking help you,” he growled as he struggled to pin my arms with one hand. “No one cares about poor Charlotte. Mommy doesn’t love you. Mommy sees you as nothing more than property to be sold to the highest bidder.”
“Stop it!” I yelled as tears filled my eyes.
He laughed as he finally managed to capture my wrists together above my head.
“Don’t act like you didn’t know. The Carmichaels want to buy you, and before their brat bends you over, I’m going to get a taste.
” With his free hand, he reached between us and shoved my pants down on one side. Then reached to the other side.
I screamed and screamed and screamed. I sounded like a wounded, desperate animal as I wiggled and bucked beneath him.
He stopped trying to pull down my pants to cover my mouth, muffling my screams.
A shadow loomed over us before Clay was ripped off me and tossed across the room. Bram stared down at me, eyes wide. He took me in as I tried to cover myself. His face shifted from shock to murderous rage as he looked toward Clay, who was getting up.
Bram stormed over to him and kicked him in the back before he could get on his feet fully.
Clay crumpled back to the floor. Bram grabbed him by the shoulder, rolling him over, and punched him in the face.
Pathetically, Clay went flat on the floor.
Bram put a knee on Clay’s chest and just started punching him over and over again.
I lay there curled up as I watched Clay’s face become bloodier and more swollen with each hit.
He must have passed out at some point, because when Bram got off him, Clay lay there unmoving.
Bram was breathing hard as he just stared down at Clay. The hand he’d used to punch dangled at his side, blood dripping from it. “This is the alarm salesman.”
“That’s my mother’s boyfriend,” I said hoarsely.