Chapter Ten
I don’t know how long I lay there for, tossing and turning, not wanting to but waiting all the same for the sound of Emma and Dad to leave the study.
It felt like hours but in reality it was probably only one.
Their hushed tones as they passed by my door reassuring me that at least they were once more okay together on some level.
It didn’t stop me feeling sick at the thought of them carrying on as normal after everything that had gone on.
But then what was the alternative? Emma beaten black and blue and kicked to the curb, never to be seen or heard of again?
I didn’t want to even think about that.
My thoughts turned to the morning and how things would be. Would Dad treat me like nothing had happened?
I recalled his last words to me and cringed.
I didn’t want to ever be in that position again.
For whatever time I had left in this household, I needed to avoid a repeat at all costs.
I needed things to be as normal as possible.
And that meant being the good old Abi that ran to his beck-and-call. Not a foot out of line.
What that meant for the next social engagement with Daniel and his father, I didn’t know. Was it too much to hope that I could get out before then?
Probably.
When I finally slept, it was fitful, the entire night a blur of vivid dreams, awake imaginings, and worry over what was to come. None of which helped me wake in a state capable of tackling what I needed to.
The soft light creeping through the curtain indicated the earliness of the hour; Dad, and in all likelihood Emma, would still be asleep.
Keen to take advantage of the temporary solitude, I kicked off the bedsheets and threw on some riding gear. If anything was going to make me feel better and mentally prepared for the day ahead, it would be time in the stables.
Heading across the yard, I could already feel a sense of calm befall me.
The crisp morning air carried with it the scent of dewy grass and as I neared, the comforting smell of the stables.
The early morning sunshine cast a glow over everything it touched and the birds were out in force.
It was easy to forget there was anything wrong when life looked, smelled, and sounded this great.
But as I entered the stable courtyard, I realized that great was downright boring when compared to absolute perfection.
That absolute perfection came in the surprising presence of Emma.
She was stood before Storm’s stable door, his muzzle affectionately tickling at her palm as she whispered affectionately to him.
Her hair tied loosely at the base of her neck, she wore a white equestrian shirt, beige jodhpurs, and riding boots.
I could have swallowed my tongue as I stood there, awestruck by her appeal, my brain lost to the beat of my heart and the fluttering of my belly.
She saw me before I’d had chance to recover and as her eyes met with mine, I saw the flash of appreciation I was starting to become accustomed to where she was concerned.
I wanted to be calm and collected. I wanted to be able to look at her and feel my brain was in control.
There was so much I wanted to talk to her about, so much I needed to understand, that I would never get to the bottom of it if I didn’t keep a clear head.
Yet the chemistry already buzzing between us had other ideas.
“Abi,” she breathed, striding toward me. “I am so glad you are here, I wasn’t sure when I’d get to see you again, I figured my best chance was to come here in the hope you would too.”
She reached out for me and I stepped back, my nerves and mental state wanting to keep her at arm’s length.
She spied my move and frowned. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean ... I ... can we talk?”
I nodded, trying to find my voice and ignore the fact that my body pined for the touch she had offered.
The temptation to reach out for her and pull her back was overwhelming, but where that touch would escalate to .
.. it wasn’t going to help things, that was for sure, and it certainly wouldn’t get the answers I craved.
As if sensing my uneasiness, Storm whinnied, shaking his head and drawing both our attention.
It was the excuse I needed to break the growing tension between us and keen to busy my hands with something other than her, I started toward him.
She fell into step beside me, her eyes flitting anxiously between Storm and I.
She looked like she wanted to say something but dare not.
“You can say whatever it is that’s bothering you,” I said as I came up alongside Storm, my hand reaching out to gently stroke the side of his neck, loving the solace just the feel of his sleek coat against my palm gave.
I sensed her continued hesitation and worried at just how bad this thing could be. Surely with everything we had endured there could be nothing left to feel this stressed about.
I looked at her then, stood as she was on the other side of Storm’s head, her hand mimicking my caress on his other side.
She nibbled at her lower lip — a distraction I didn’t need!
— and caught up a stray strand of her hair to tuck it behind her ear.
My gaze dropped instinctively as her shirt separated with the move, the rigidity of the style hadn’t given any indication that it remained half unbuttoned but as her arm lifted, the material parted, unveiling the soft, inviting channel between the swell of her breasts, right down to the diamante at the center of her bra.
As she lowered her hand, it settled back into position.
But it was too late, the damage had been done, my mind was in my panties as the throb kick-started full on.
I tried to stand straighter, to ignore it, to stop thinking on just how appealing she was or just how great I knew it would feel to slip my hand into her shirt right now. Something I was sure she would let me do...
I could feel my resolve pooling at my feet and I shoved my free hand deep into my pocket, focusing my other on caressing Storm.
“Spill it, Emma.”
The order came out more brusque than I intended but it had the right effect, spurring her into speaking.
“I wanted to ask if you were okay?” — my eyes shot to hers at the absurdity of the question and she started — “I mean physically? Not mentally ... I know you’re not mentally.”
“Gee, thanks,” I said, a smile softening my words. I knew what she was trying to ask.
“I mean, did Edward’s, you know, punishment,” she cringed over the word, “did it leave you sore?”
My cheeks heated at the reminder of what she had born witness to and I averted my gaze. “Only a little, it would have been a lot worse if you hadn’t stopped him when you did.”
She cursed under her breath. “I should have stopped it from happening altogether.”
“My stepfather is a hard man to stop from doing anything,” I said, but then I realized that wasn’t strictly true where she was concerned.
She could use her womanly form to get exactly what she wanted out of him.
The painful memory that came with that thought had the accusatory words flying out of my mouth before I could stop them, “or so I thought.”
Our eyes locked above Storm’s muzzle, and I wanted to kick myself for being such a bitch. The hurt in her widened gaze stripping me of the higher ground and leaving me feeling ashamed.
“I’m sorry, I just don’t get it!” I blurted, the guilt making me angry.
“Get what?”
“How you can be with a bastard like him!”
She looked from me to Storm, her gaze contemplative and I waited for an answer.
Seconds ticked by when I thought she would say something, but nothing came.
Did she think telling me the truth would put me off?
Did she think it too unsavory? After all, the truth couldn’t possibly be any worse than the reasons I had been coming up with on my own.
“Look, I just want you to be honest with me,” I pressed. “Believe me when I say you can’t possibly tell me anything worse than the things I have been thinking.”
She blanched.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound like that, I just want to understand what’s going on.
I want to understand you better. I mean someone as.
..” I wanted to say special, but revealing that much about how I saw her made me feel vulnerable and uneasy.
Instead, I said, “...someone as beautiful and talented as you could surely be with someone that would treat them a lot better.”
“Is that how you see me — beautiful and talented?” she smiled then, the warmth coming back into her cheeks, the spark to her eyes well and truly alight.
I blushed. “You’re changing the subject.”
“Am I?” She was flirting with me now, I could see it in the way she tilted her head to one side and started to toy with the collar of her shirt, taunting me with flashes of her soft, smooth skin once more.
“Please, Emma, just explain it to me,” I said, trying to keep my eyes above her neckline, my tongue flicking out to moisten my suddenly dry lips. “I know you can’t possibly love him.”
“No, I don’t pretend to love him,” she agreed, her hand moving to distractedly brush up and down the shirt opening.
“And yet you’re with him?” I said. Eyes up! Eyes up! “Even when he uses you like some sort of plaything? He has you exercised and then demands you to perform for him and his ... associates?”
I had said too much. In my concentration to remain in control, I’d given away far too much of what I knew. And she picked up on it.
“What do you mean by that?” Her hand at her collar stilled as her eyes scanned my face.
“Look, I know it’s none of my business but I...” I faltered, I didn’t know what to say. Did I really want to admit that I’d seen her in action the other night? No way! Did I want her to know that I knew my stepfather had criticized her “performance”? Hell, no!