Chapter 44
Chapter forty-four
Paisley
I hummed softly and reached up for the copy of Beren and Lúthien I was looking for. Tolkien’s legendary love story had come back to me the other day after watching Nash and Stephanie pledge to love each other for a lifetime. It was time to revisit that beauty.
“What are you doing?”
The suddenness of his presence startled me from my daydreams, and I fumbled on the ladder. Warm hands were around my waist in a second, hauling me off my perch.
“Hey!” I whirled around to face Greyson.
“What were you thinking?” he snapped, chest heaving as his stormy eyes flashed.
“I was trying to grab something.”
“Why didn’t you ask?”
I crossed my arms. “I’m not spun sugar, Greyson. I can grab something off the top shelf without asking for help.”
“You nearly fell!”
I frowned, annoyed. “I wouldn’t have, if you’d entered the room like a normal person instead of using your commanding voice.”
He scoffed. “So it’s my fault?”
What was up with him? “It’s no one’s fault. I’m just saying it was an accident.”
“Just like the library, huh?” He paused, then shook his head. “If you’d been more careful, it wouldn’t have happened. I saw you. You were distracted—”
“So you do blame me,” I whispered, chills snaking down my spine. “Jules said you didn’t but . . . you do.”
“It’s not about you. This is me,” he snapped. “I should have—I needed—I couldn’t—” He ran a grease-stained hand over his face, and it left smudges of war paint behind.
Normally, I would have wanted to reach up and wipe the grease from his stubble, but now, I took a half step backwards, my back bumping against the shelves.
“I can’t do this right now. I’ll say something I regret.” Turning, he made a move to leave the room.
Panic cloaked my throat, and I grabbed his shirt hem. “Don’t walk away,” I begged. “Please. I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I won’t do it again.”
Promise after promise flew off my tongue.
Jared always walked away during a fight and lost himself in video games, then he’d ignore me until he decided I was sorry enough.
The faster I apologized, the sooner he’d talk to me again.
I hated being alone, and worse, never knowing when he’d come back to me.
Greyson’s expression crumbled as he stared down at me. “Pais,” he said softly. “Don’t do that. I’m not leaving. I just need a minute . . . I . . . I just need you to be more careful.” He lifted his hand to my face.
Instinct kicked in.
I flinched, tucking my chin against my chest. Shoulders curling inwards. I raised my arm in a deflecting stance. “Please, don’t!” My eyes slid shut, and I waited for the blow to land.
But it never did.
Dropping my arm a fraction, I peeked an eye open.
Greyson stood in front of me slack-jawed, his arms limp at his sides. “Pais.” That single word, hoarse and guttural.
He wasn’t going to hurt me. So why had I panicked? Greyson wasn’t violent. He wanted me to be careful. That was normal, right? Maybe my brain was glitching. Except the words . . . They hadn’t sounded like Greyson. They were harder. Harsher. They were . . .
Exactly what Jared said after he . . . hit me.
You should be more careful. You’re so clumsy. Like it was an excuse for his actions.
The memory clicked, and a 4K movie rattled to life in my head. I remembered my first husband for who he truly was. The man my body remembered even when my brain couldn’t. Even though I’d heard the truth, I hadn’t remembered it for myself. Until now.
I choked on a scream. Greyson reached for me, but I dodged him and ran from the room, bolting out the front door only pausing to grab a pair of keys. I jammed them into the ignition of my car and peeled out of the driveway. Greyson followed me outside, but I was already driving away.
The road was blurred by a flood of tears. I’d married a monster. A monster. Wrapped in the package of a nice-guy facade.
I remembered.
The memories assaulted me. I tried shutting the movie off. Blocking the images. But my brain was stuck, forcing me to watch my past play out in third person. And for the first time in eight weeks, I didn’t want to remember.
My phone rang. It was Greyson, but I ignored it. I couldn’t face him. Not like this. Not after I’d shown him that part of myself. Not after mistaking him for Jared.
Somehow I made it the two minutes to Juliet’s house. But it felt like an eternity. I pounded on the door, limbs shaking like autumn leaves in the breeze.
Myles opened the door. “Pais?” One look at my face, and he was reaching for me.
I flinched before he made contact with my shoulder, cowering. He’s huge. So huge.
He halted, understanding seeping across his face. Stepping back slowly, he hollered, “Juliet, I need you.” To me, he added softly, “You can come in.”
I inched past him, stumbling over the threshold. His hand shot out to steady me, but I whimpered, retreating away from him.
“What’s going on—Pais?” Juliet was at my side in a flash. “What happened?”
“I . . . He . . . ” I wrapped my arms around my waist, trying to stop the shaking.
“Did someone hurt you?” Myles asked with quiet firmness, like he was ready to go to war. “Was it Denver?”
I shook my head. I’d forgotten all about the too-flirty bartender.
Myles relaxed a fraction.
Juliet half dragged my limp body to the couch, and I curled up into the fetal position with my head in her lap.
She stroked my hair in silence while terrifying images shook my body. Myles silently moved around the kitchen, and five minutes later, he set a tea tray with a pot of tea and two cups down on the coffee table in front of us.
He bent and whispered something to Juliet.
I caught the words. Greyson and phone. Greyson was probably panicking.
Myles slipped from the room with nature-defying quietness.
“Pais, talk to me,” Juliet said softly once he was gone, and my lungs loosened a fraction. “It’s just us.”
“He hit me,” I whispered. “Jared. I remember. I remember.” I sobbed. “I saw it.”
“Oh, Pais.”
I choked out the story in broken, halting sentences. Of how Greyson and I were arguing. How he moved. How Greyson’s words mirrored Jared’s. How I ran.
Juliet didn’t say much. Just held me together, stroking my hair.
The gentle touch grounded me in the present as the past horrors of Paisley Nichols threatened to drown me.