Chapter 17 #2
I return my attention to the table. They all looked absolutely terrified.
They have no idea what to think. I don’t care if they believed me or not; it didn’t matter.
By the end of the week, they would all be out of jobs.
I was definitely going to make that happen.
And they should be happy that was all I was going to do.
“Apologize to my wife,” I say. “And you better make that shit believable.”
Instantly they all start apologizing. You couldn’t even distinguish what any of them said because they were talking over each other.
Removing our combined hands from under the table, I bring them to my lips, placing a kiss on the back of hers.
Her brown eyes stare into mine. She opens her mouth to say something but gets cut off when the woman on the stage speaks.
In the end, Tiffany didn’t win the award. Chad Nickles did. My wife happily stood up and clapped for him as he received the plaque. The others at the table remained quiet the rest of the night.
Once the award was given, she turned to me and asked to leave. She was unusually quiet the entire ride. Instead of going in once we got home, I asked her to take a ride with me. I left all guards at home. I wanted to spend time alone with her.
Close to my property is a lookout spot. The view looks down over a valley.
It isn’t anything spectacular. But it’s secluded.
I drive the spider to the lookout spot and park.
I glance over to the passenger side. She’s looking at me as if she wants to ask a question.
I push the door open and step out. Making my way over to the front of the car, I lean back on it.
She takes no time to join me at the front of the car. My jacket is wrapped around her shoulders. It’s not cold tonight. In a few more weeks, it will be entirely too cold for outside activities.
“The story you told at the table,” she finally finds the courage to ask what I know has been on her mind. “Is it true?”
That clawing feeling makes me feel as if my throat is closing. I didn’t want to talk about my past or that fucking place. However, Mason’s words weeks ago ring through my head.
“You’re going to lose your wife running from your past.”
As much as I fear my past, I fear losing Tiffany more.
Scrubbing a hand down my face, I let out a deep breath and look up at the sky.
“Yeah, it’s true.” Even saying those simple words has my heart pounding and my throat feeling dry.
“After my parents died, I went to live with my godfather. He was also my father’s business partner.”
I have to tamp down the rage I feel anytime I talk about Walter Kelley. I’ve spent my entire adult life taking everything from Walter. But that’s a conversation for another time.
“I was angry after their deaths. Even went into a shell where I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I acted out at school and got into fights damn near every day.”
She reaches over and grabs my hand, causing me to turn away from the night sky and look down at her.
“Your parents had just died. You were hurt. It’s understandable.”
I loved her even more at that moment. She wanted to be on my side and support me. She has no idea how horrible this story gets. Lifting her hand to my mouth, I place a kiss on it again before continuing.
“I started to notice some small things. My parents weren’t rich by any means. They lived smart. A house that was paid for, reliable cars. They weren’t flashy. My father used to say, I’m saving all our money so that you and your sister never have to struggle the way your mom and I did.”
We lived comfortably as a middle-class family. Suburbia life, yearly family vacations, my sister and I got to do all the extracurricular activities we wanted. We never went without anything we needed. But we weren’t blowing money on fancy labels and sports cars.
“You see, Walter was the opposite of my father. He had a new young wife, and he loved expensive cars. Many times, I would overhear my father and Walter discussing his bad spending habits. The last conversation they had, Walter asked my dad to borrow money. My father told him no. Told him that his money is put aside for his kids.”
I shut my eyes, fighting the wave of rage that wants to take over me. I remembered that conversation clearly. They had no idea I was standing outside Dad’s office window. I was only there to grab my ball that I had kicked over near the area. I stopped when I heard the raised voices.
“Ouch,” Tiffany’s hiss of pain has my eyes popping open.
I got so caught up in the memory and the anger it causes; I squeezed her hand. Feeling like shit, I massage her fingers. Taking slow breaths, I try to tell my story again.
“Five days after that argument, my parents died in a car accident. The brakes failed in their car. They died instantly.”
She gasps beside me.
“Both my parents were the only children of their parents, and my grandparents had long passed away or were in retirement homes unable to take us in. So we were given over to our godfather.”
I swallow again, trying to brace myself for this part of the story.
“After we moved in with Walter, his life seemed to get financially better. Every so often he would bring something for my sister and I to sign. Not long after, he’d come home with a fancy new car, or flashy jewelry for his wife.
I brought my concerns to Marissa first. She was older, and I assumed wiser. ”
I will never forget that day. Marissa’s hazel eyes flared with anger. She accused me of starting trouble. Told me I was being a pain because I was the reason our parents had died. She’d just fed into an insecurity that was already festering.
“Not long after I brought my sister's attention to the spending habits of Walter, life at my godfather’s house got harder for me. They’d all go out of town and leave me home alone.
I was eight. They ostracized me and left me out of everything.
Walter would pick little fights with me, and call me names, and when I would react, he would put me on crazy punishments.
He once made me go two months with nothing but water and bread to eat.
There were a lot of tiny little things that piled up. ”
I swallow as I remember the night it all went to hell. My anger had been boiling over inside me like an unwatched pot. It was slowly rising to the surface. And this time, I didn’t have my mother and father to calm me down and talk me through my rage.
“I was in school. It had been a long night of my godfather calling me weak and coddled. I’d just gotten off a punishment that prohibited me from coming out of my room unless it was to go to school or use the bathroom.
I was in class when a kid cracked a joke.
Looking back, it wasn’t that bad of a joke, but it felt like a huge thing at the time. ”
I pause as I gather my thoughts. After he mentioned parents, I remembered little after that. I think I blacked out.
“What did you do?” Her voice pulls me away from the dark place.
I turn to face her. The urge to touch her takes over me. I pull her up from the front of the car, widen my legs and tug her in between them. Her back is pressed against my front. I wrap my arms around her and hold her close to me. My heart is pounding, but it slows the moment she’s in my arms.
“By the time they pulled me off the kid, he was in a coma.”
She gasps but doesn’t speak.
“Everything happened fast after that. The kid’s parents pressed charges. The judge and Walter came to an agreement to keep me out of court. They sent me to William Bone’s school for boys.”
Saying that name out loud sends a chill up my spine.
The hell I endured at that fucking school still has a hold on me.
The atrocities that happened will forever leave a mark on everyone who was there.
I thought the shit my godfather did was torture, but the staff at William Bone’s taught me the real definition of cruelty.
“I don’t talk about my childhood or my past, because it’s not something I like to relive.”
She lifts and turns in my arms to face me.
“I’m not withholding it to keep you out, Angel. I just don’t enjoy talking about it. That place…” I shut my eyes, not even able to finish that statement. The smell of cigarette smoke and cloves claws at my chest. The feeling of heavy hands pushing down on my shoulders nearly makes me vomit.
Her small hands cupping my face bring me out of the horrors of my memories. I open my eyes and see unshed tears dancing in her eyes.
“I never needed to know every detail, Nico. I just wanted to know you. The real you.”
Turning my face slightly, I place a kiss against her palm.
“I am the man I showed you. What I did to get you may have been unconventional, but I am who I told you I was. And just know the real me loves you more than anything in this world.”
She smiles before leaning down and pressing a sweet kiss on my lips.
I take advantage, feeling starved of her kisses.
Slipping my tongue into her mouth, I take control of the kiss.
Angling my head, I deepen our connection.
Her grip on my face grows tighter, telling me she’s missed this just as much as I have.
My hands drop to her ass. I grip each cheek in my palms and squeeze. My jacket, which was once over her shoulders, fell to the ground, forgotten.
She whimpers, and I swallow it down as if it came from my mouth. Her nails scrape at the hair at the back of my neck. My cock presses against the zipper of my pants. It’s been so long since I’ve been inside her, I may nut in these pants.
I slow the kiss down, pecking at her lips. Finally, pressing my forehead to hers, I stare into her eyes. Moving my hands up to the nape of her neck, my fingers brush against the zipper of her dress.
I watch her intently, waiting for her to shut me down. Carefully, and in no rush, I unzip her dress, giving her ample time to stop me. When she doesn’t say a word, I keep going.