CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
I watch as my mother reaches for her mug on the table. Her movements are still skittish after three hours in my home. She was never this scared when we lived together before. A year and a half has passed since we’ve seen each other. This jumpy version is a shadow of her former self. It’s almost as if she expects someone to appear from thin air and crash down on us from the ceiling.
Steam rises from the tea I steeped for her, but the soothing blend has done little to ease her nerves. The spoon rattles against the rim when she takes a small drink. There’s a persistent tremble in her hands that won’t cease. It’s concerning, much like this stressed silence between us. I wait with bated breath for her to speak.
Mother clears her throat, refusing to meet my imploring gaze. “I’m grateful you found me, but you’re not safe if I stay here.”
The implication behind her warning is evident. “Did you tell him where I went?”
Her eyes leap to mine for a brief moment. “Of course not.”
“Then how will he find us?”
“He’s dangerous,” she says in response.
I shiver from the ice in her tone. “Ridge won’t let anyone hurt us.”
Mother hums to a disbelieving tune. “He’s very… tall.”
“My gentle giant,” I muse.
“How did you meet him?”
“Through a mutual friend.” Not that my boyfriend would willingly claim the bubbly blonde as such.
Mother takes another sip of her tea. “Harper?”
I smile at her impressive memory. “Yes. She’s been vital to my… revival.”
“Is that what we’re calling this?” She motions to the luxury furnishings Ridge included in the rental.
My attention drifts to the fireplace. Framed photos from the past months sit on the mantel. “It feels that way. Like I’ve been given the gift of a second chance. You’re on the road to recovery too.”
Mother winces. “That makes me sound like a victim.”
“You are, Mama. Were,” I amend. “But control is yours now. You can choose how to move forward.”
“I’m not sure I can believe that. Not yet at least.”
“Give it time. You’ve just arrived.”
She allows a lull to enter our conversation as her attention wanders. “You called him your future husband.”
Heat stings my face. “I didn’t mean for you to hear that.”
Mother raises her brows. “It shames you?”
“Not at all. It’s more of a… joke between us.” Except that explanation turns my stomach. I let my heart speak for me. “He’s become my favorite person. We’re very attached to each other.”
“You love him?” She signals to the wall our houses share.
My gaze follows her motion, as if I can see him on the other side. “I love Ridge very much.”
Approval twitches her lips. “It’s the same for him.”
Flutters erupt in my belly like this is new information. “How do you know?”
“He wears his devotion for you like a badge of honor.”
“You think so?”
She nods. “It’s a relief to see you’re doing well. I’ve been extremely concerned without a way of contacting you.”
The ominous edge in her statement prickles my skin. “What happened after I left?”
A faraway look enters her eyes, as if she’s in a different house entirely. “Your father has a mistress.”
I balk at her abrupt reveal. Although, on second thought, it’s not surprising. Affairs are quite common in that narrow-minded society. Many men in Billmoore believe it’s suitable to have multiple wives.
“Once you left, our marriage changed. Your father stopped speaking to me. The blame for your… betrayal was placed on my shoulders. That was expected, as we discussed before you fled. But I wasn’t prepared for his anger. He began treating me like a servant. If I dared to mention the shift in his behavior, I’d be punished. How foolish of me to assume he’d forgive my deception. Most recently, he threatened to replace me. I would have preferred that option.” She gingerly touches her bruised cheek. “Even though he has someone new, he wouldn’t release me. I don’t believe he’ll ever let me go.”
A bitter taste fills my mouth. Father could be cruel, but he always had a sense of justice. It seems my absence stole his humanity.
“He’s a monster,” I murmur.
Mother agrees with a dip of her chin. “I’m worried he’ll find me.”
I place my palm over hers, offering a reassuring squeeze. “Ridge will protect us.”
A loud bang on the door startles both of us. Walter wakes from his snooze at my feet and rushes to greet the visitor. His happy bark pairs with the scratching on the wood to announce his impatience.
As usual, I’m more leery as I turn to the entryway. My brow furrows, wondering why Ridge would bother to knock. Then it occurs to me that he’s probably being respectful of my mother’s privacy. He’s considerate like that.
I go to let him in, only to immediately regret that decision. My feet are quick to backpedal away from the threat. Walter whimpers and slinks off to find shelter from the approaching danger. Lucky pup. I wish I could do the same.
Instead, I’m forced to confront my past. “Father.”
The man who took the liberty of ruining my youth darkens the stoop. “Calliope.” His upper lip curls in a sneer as he enters without permission. “I’ve come for my wife.”
My mother gasps from where she remains seated on the couch. Father’s glare narrows in on her before I can blink. I sidestep to block his view of her.
“She’s staying here.” I hate the tremble in my voice.
Thunder booms in his expression. “Get out of my way, child.”
“No,” I blurt.
My father goes still. “What did you say?”
“I said no,” I repeat. “Mother left for a reason. She wants a new life, one that doesn’t include you.”
“You dare speak to me this way?”
The urge to cower knocks my knees together. There’s a painful knot forming in my stomach that makes it difficult to breathe. But then a voice whispers to remind me that I’m not this tortured girl anymore. He can’t intimidate me unless I allow it. I’m in control.
My posture straightens from under his mean intentions and bully mentality. “You’re not welcome in my home. Please leave.”
“How bold you’ve become while living in sin.” His chuckle is cruel, a wicked sound meant to deliver fear. “Where’s your boyfriend to defend these actions? He left you alone.”
For a split second, I fear my father did something to Ridge. Then I remember who my boyfriend is and what he’s capable of.
Father takes my silence as surrender. “I can’t believe you’d expose your mother to such depravity. Shame on you, Calliope.”
“Shame on me? You’re the shameful one. Look what you did to her.” I boldly point at the marks on Mother’s skin.
“You’ve forgotten your place since leaving the compound, daughter. Allow me to remind you.” Father raises his arm as if to backhand me.
“I fucking dare you.” The voice is more menacing than my father’s could ever be.
But such contempt hasn’t sounded like a morally gray knight storming the castle to save the day. Until now.