Текст книги "Once Kissed"

Автор книги: Cecy Robson

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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

Chapter 23

Tess

I rush to open my cosmetics drawer when Curran knocks again. “Baby, you in there?”

I pass some blush powder over my cheeks. “I’m coming. I’m in the bathroom.” My fingers make quick work of fluffing my hair and adjusting my glasses before I all but run to open the door.

Curran crosses the threshold with a bag of groceries tucked under his arm. His smile isn’t forced. Not like mine. “Hey, angel face.”

“Hey, cop.”

As soon as I lock the door, he pulls me into a one-arm hug and kisses me, but when he pulls back, he’s frowning. “You okay?”

I step back, glancing around nervously. “Yes. Just tired. Long day of reading and research.”

He watches me for a beat, his attention traveling to the dining room, where my laptop is open and my books and notes are spread out. Yet despite my “evidence,” it’s clear he doesn’t believe me. I rub his shoulder. “But it’s better now that you’re here,” I say. And because I mean that so much, it helps me smile for real this time, helping us both to relax.

When his smile meets mine, I take his hand and lead him into the kitchen. “So, what magnificent feast do you have in store for me tonight?”

“Spaghetti. With my secret sauce.”

“Ketchup?” I offer.

He laughs and places the bag on the counter before stripping out of his jacket. “It’s actually made with roasted vegetables. It won’t take long once they’re done cooking.”

I stand behind him and circle his waist with my arms before kissing the spot behind his ears. “Mmm. Sounds awesome.”

“It’s not all wild sex and movie star looks, babe. I got mad skills you’ve never even dreamed of.”

“Really?” I nuzzle his neck. “I can’t wait to see them.”

“Yeah?” He turns his head to meet my face. “Well, what say we get these groceries unpacked and I’ll show you while the veggies cook.”

My body warms at the sizzle in his eyes. I release him, grinning, and step toward the paper bag perched on the counter. When I reach in, I expect to find only food. Instead my fingers latch on to the thick string of a small gift bag.

He shrugs when I glance back at him. “It’s no big deal. I saw it, and thought of you.”

“That’s so sweet, babe.” I push aside the green tissue paper, touched by the gesture. But when I pull out a pair of pink and navy argyle socks, my heart falls to the floor.

“I know you like those things, and I figured you can never have enough, right?”

His voice trails when he sees my face.

My father’s appearance had left me raw. And while Curran had managed to lift my spirits, these ridiculous socks and their significance cause me to lose my composure.

“Tess…what’s wrong?”

I back away when he reaches for me, batting my hands and trying to shake off my reaction. “What’s wrong?” he asks again. This time, he clasps my wrists and doesn’t let go.

“Christ,” he says, pulling me to him to cup my face. “What is it? Did something happen—did someone hurt you?”

“It-it’s nothing,” I insist, even though by now I’m crying.

A fierceness I’ve never seen spreads across his features, hardening them to steel. “Tell me what’s happening,” he says through clenched teeth.

My face meets his, that awful feeling of hate returning. “I don’t like the socks.”

It’s an asinine thing to say, and at first he seems confused, until he realizes I mean a lot more. “Why?”

I release a shaky breath. For all I didn’t want him to know, there’s no going back now. “Because I’m forced to wear them,” I admit.

“How are you forced to…Jesus,” he says, when he notices my worsening state. “Is this about your dad?”

I don’t want to answer, but manage to nod.

“He…dresses you? Picks out your clothes? Is that what you’re saying?”

Again, all I do is nod.

“Does he…” Curran drops his arms away, swallowing hard, his rage brewing close to the surface. “Does he put his hands on you?”

“No. Not like you think. What he does isn’t physical.”

“Then how does he force you, and why do you let him?”

My lips part. Curran’s harsh tone borders on accusing. “It’s not easy to explain.”

“Maybe not. But you need to tell me, and you need to tell me right now.”

There’s no getting out of this. And while I hate that I’ve kept so much from him, it doesn’t make it any easier to speak. I cross my arms and walk into the living room.

Curran follows, lowering himself beside me when I take a seat on the couch. He waits, giving me time to gather my thoughts. I only hope I can form them into words he’ll understand.

“I have nothing,” I tell him. “I have no claim to this apartment or anything in it. My education, rent, utilities, and everything else is paid for, but it comes at a price.”

Curran doesn’t move and barely blinks. But he’s listening. The anger stirring in his irises tells me as much.

My vision blurs with the start of my tears, and from the shame and anger raking my skin. But I continue. Not because I want to, or because it’s easy, but because for the first time, I have someone to tell. “Everything from my clothes, to my furniture, to my linens is selected for me.” I rub my hands. “Do you want to know why I don’t eat much, or why my pantry is always empty?”

He doesn’t answer, but I didn’t expect him to. “Because I’m restricted to a certain amount of calories each day. So I don’t get fat. I’m getting fat, you know.” Bitterness seeps into my voice. I try to settle down by continuing to rub my hands, but of course, it does nothing. “I’m allowed six ounces of protein a day and all the kale I can stomach. Before you came along, if I didn’t portion my meals correctly, I’d starve. I can’t buy what I want because I don’t have any money. And I can’t get a paying job because then I’ll be cut off completely, everything but the clothes on my back taken, and thrown out into the street.”

Curran’s jaw tightens and his form becomes alarmingly still. “Why?” he asks barely above a growl. “Is it just about control? Or is he punishing you for something his fucked-up mind thinks you did?”

I didn’t expect him to be so specific or for his anger to be what it is. “It’s always been about control,” I say. “Ever since I was a child, he’s had a hand in every aspect of my life—even the people I associate with.” I look at him then. “And there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”

Curran slowly rises, his hands balling into tight fists. “Does he hurt you? I’m serious, Tess. I need to know if he’s hitting you, grabbing you—anything. Or using words to scare you.”

I start to stand, only to sit again. This conversation is already too much, and my fragile nerves aren’t ready for it. “When I was a child, my father would repeatedly strike me and berate me to instill fear. But the last time he hit me, I was in my early teens.”

“So he doesn’t touch you?” he repeats.

I lean forward, my head throbbing. “No. He’s very careful. His control now is financial and emotional. He continues to insult me, and degrade me, but not enough to constitute abuse.”

Curran gives me his back and swears. “No grounds for a Protection from Abuse Order.”

I wipe my eyes. “No, and I’d be a fool to try for one.”

He looks at me then. “No you wouldn’t.”

The lump in my throat builds so tight I can barely get my words out. “Come on, Curran. Can you see me before a judge? Opposing counsel would rip me apart. Here I am, this grown, intelligent woman about to graduate law school who’s taken Donald Newart, respected member of the community and political legend, to court—for what? Paying my tuition, giving me a lavish apartment with furnishings, providing me with food. I can hear his attorney now. ‘My, Miss Newart, if this was such a nightmare, if living the life of a kept woman was too hard to take, why didn’t you walk away? You had the education that your father paid for. Why didn’t you work at a coffee shop or a local dry cleaner for something better? If this was so torturous, why take it?’ ”

“Why did you?” Curran’s deep and vicious tone immediately silences me. “He’s an asshole, Tess. Why did you take his shit? You’re better than that.”

No. I’m not.

I can’t contain my quivering voice. “Because I always have. Because it’s all I’ve ever known. And because I never had a way out until now.” Tears dribble down my cheeks. “I have two more months of school and then the bar to pass. Once I get through this, I’m free.”

“Screw that. You can be free now. Walk away. Tonight. Leave now and don’t look back. You said it yourself—there’s nothing for you here.”

“I can’t.”

Curran throws out his hands. “Why the hell not? What’s stopping you?”

I stand to face him. “Didn’t you hear me? I don’t have any money, Curran. None. No line of credit, because I have no credit cards—I can’t even open a bank account.” I swerve right, then left, uselessly searching for a place to go, only to stop. “He found out about us. You know what he did to punish me? He saddled me with the tuition for my last semester of law school. Thirty thousand dollars. Where am I going to get this money?”

“You have to get a job.”

“I don’t think you’re listening. If I take a job, he’ll stick me with any outstanding bills and I’m out of a home.”

For a moment, he simply stares at me, his eyes searching every aspect of my face. “You’re afraid of him, aren’t you?”

I ease away, wanting to deny it, but realizing I can’t. “Yes.”

“Even though he hasn’t laid a hand on you in years.”

Again, his tone sounds so accusing. “This damage he’s inflicted isn’t due to one thing alone, Curran. It’s a culmination of everything he’s done and how it’s made me feel.” I sigh, frustrated. “I’m not sure I can make you understand.”

His large hands clasp my shoulders. “Try,” he tells me. “Help me understand so I can help you out of this mess.”

I hug my body, working hard not to lose it as I do my best to explain. But the truth hurts, and doesn’t come easy. “My father has spent a lifetime stripping me of my worth. I don’t dare fight it, because it’s been ingrained in me that I’m not supposed to argue, or complain, or do anything other than quietly obey.”

“You wouldn’t obey me,” Curran snaps. I still then, only for him to scoff. “Come on, Tess. If I tried telling you what to eat, how to dress, how to talk, you’d rip me a new one and throat-punch me for being a prick.”

“It’s different with you,” I stammer.

“How—”

“Because I’m not afraid of you. You’ve never hurt me!” It’s then I finally crumble. “My father may not beat me, but it doesn’t mean I’m not broken. I’ve grown up thinking there’s nothing good about me, and constantly reminded of everything that’s wrong—the way I look, the way I stand, the way I breathe—nothing is ever good enough.”

“But you’re wrong. You’re beautiful and smart and kind. The problem is, you don’t give yourself enough credit. Instead you believe everything this lowlife shoves down your throat.”

Curran is right, but his words border on blame. He doesn’t understand that the strength I need to face my father has always lurked beyond my reach. Yet it’s what he says next that turns my shame to fury. “You shouldn’t let him do that to you.”

“What?”

“I said you shouldn’t let him treat you that way—”

“God damnit!” I storm away from him, only to veer on him and lash out. “You stand here, this strong and formidable man, judging me when you’ve never been dragged by a proverbial leash—forced to do what you’re told, shoved into clothes that make you feel ugly, and obliged to eat food that makes you sick so you don’t starve.” I ram my finger out. “It’s easy for you to tell me to walk away—you’ve never been afraid, or had every layer of your being stripped until you’re reduced to a pathetic mass of flesh and bones.”

Tears pour out of me, and my shoulders tremble. Curran gathers me to him, attempting to console me with his warmth and shield me with his hold.

“You’ve always had your family, and friends, and a support system to lean on,” I tell him. “All I’ve ever had is my father dictating every aspect of my life, and a stepmother who takes his side. With the exception of college, even my friends were selected for me.” My words release in chokes. I’m not sure if Curran understands me, but I keep going. Now that I’ve started, I can’t seem to stop.

“I tried talking with an attorney a few years ago. Do you know what he said to me?” He stills and waits for me to respond. “That no one in his right mind would go against my father. ‘Suck it up,’ he said. ‘There are worse problems and real abuse in life.’ ”

Curran mumbles another curse, yet as furious as he is, he manages to brush a gentle kiss against my head. “I want you to get away from him. This shit ends tonight.”

“And where would I go?”

“What do you mean?” he asks me, frowning. “You’ll go with me.”

“And substitute one man for another?”

“I’m not him! Do you really think my intent is to take the place of your piece-of-filth father?”

God, he’s so angry. “That’s not what I’m saying. But Curran, I have to stand on my own. If I can get through these next few months, I can walk away and finally be free.”

“What if he stops you?”

“He can’t,” I try to insist, despite my shaky voice. “Once I pass the boards, I’ll finally have a way to make my own money.”

“Tess, this is a sick man who has gotten off on hurting you, scaring you, and forcing you to do things against your will. Do you think that’s going to end with your graduation? If you don’t think he has another ace up his sleeve, you have another thing coming.”

His eyes sweep over my body, while his hands travel the length of my arms. “Do you see yourself?” he asks me. “Do you have any idea what you look like right now? He’s killing you, baby. This man is destroying everything you are, and everything I love about you.”

He hauls me to him when I sob into my hands, his words and their truth dismantling me. “I don’t want to be like this,” I admit.

“Then don’t. Let me get you out of here. I make a good living. I have money put away. I can carry us through until you can stand on your own. Will you let me?”

I clutch the front of his shirt, knowing what I have to say, and wishing I didn’t have to. “I can’t.”

Curran’s muscles tense beneath my hold. He doesn’t move or speak, not for a long time. But when he does, his words crush me more than an avalanche of falling stones. “If that’s the case, you’re more broken than I thought, and I can’t fix you.”

He wrenches himself away from me and grabs his jacket, then marches toward the hall. Without another glance back, he throws the door open.

I call to him, but he leaves anyway, slamming the door behind him.

Chapter 24

Curran

I drive around for two hours. The cop in me is gone. The Philly boy raring for a fight? He’s front and center, looking for a way to find fucking Newart. Bastard piece of shit. I swear I could choke him with my bare hands.

He damaged my girl, spent years reducing her to nothing, and I’m not sure there’s a way to get all of her back.

What pisses me off, though, is that Tess is right. Me storming in there, pretending to save the day, won’t save her in the end. She needs to walk away from him. I can’t make her do it. No. I owe her more than that.

I make it back to my apartment after hours of senseless driving, but can’t even put the key in the lock. She’s a mess, and I left her like that. I glare at my door for about ten seconds before I hotfoot down the back stairs and head back to her place.

It’s almost one in the morning when I reach her building. I rush out of my car, pausing only to nod toward her guard sitting in his vehicle. I knock on her door moments later. She opens it slowly, her eyes red and swollen.

Shit. I was hoping I’d wake her. It would mean she’d slept, and not stayed awake crying like she obviously had.

“Hi,” I say like a dumbass.

Tears leak from her eyes. Damn. For as much as I think her father is a supreme dick, being the one to cause those tears, I’m no better. “I’m sorry I left.” She doesn’t answer, choosing instead to wipe her cheeks. “And I’m sorry for what I said. It won’t happen again.”

Her voice shakes. “What won’t?”

“Huh?”

She struggles to speak. “What won’t happen again? What you said?”

I shake my head. “I’m not going to keep quiet about what I think of your father. It’s wrong what he’s doing, and barely on the side of the law. But I was wrong, too. I shouldn’t have left you. Not like you were.”

She presses her lips and backs away into the apartment. “Do you want to come in?”

“I really do,” I answer, meaning it down to my gut.

Aw, hell. That only makes her cry harder.

I shut the door behind me, flipping the deadbolt and pulling her against me. “Baby,” I say, when she falls into my arms. “Don’t cry.” She cries harder. “Okay…I guess you can if you want.”

Her shoulders shake. It takes me a sec to realize she’s laughing even through her misery. “Thank you,” she mumbles.

I lead her to the bedroom and strip down to my shorts. She removes her glasses and slips into bed, cuddling close when I gather her to me. “What do you want to do?” I ask.

“About my father?”

“Yeah.”

“Part of me wants to run out of here with you, but then I worry that it may be for the wrong reasons.” She lifts her head. “I want us to be together because of us. Not because my father drove me into your arms, or because you feel this need to save me.”

“What if I want you with me? Even if this shit had never gone down with your father?”

“But it did. I think you would have asked me to move in with you before tonight if you really wanted me to.”

Maybe. Maybe not. In all honesty, I’ve thought a lot about us, and about being together for the long haul.

When it comes down to it, we haven’t known each other long, not really. The last thing I want is to rush things and screw them up. What I have with Tess is special. I’ve never felt this way about any girl. Not even close. But despite our time together, there’s a lot she’s kept from me. And I don’t like it.

“Did you tell me everything? Or is there stuff you left out?” I groan when she doesn’t answer. “Just tell me.”

“I don’t want you to get angry again.”

“I’m already pissed. But I hate these damn secrets. You’ve been quiet this whole time about shit you should have told me about. Now that I know some of what’s going on, don’t you think you owe me the rest?”

“I never meant to lie to you. But this part of my life is humiliating, and not something I ever meant to share.”

“But you have.”

“Yes. I have.” I give her a moment, and then one after that before she finally speaks. “I didn’t study abroad my senior year of college.”

I frown. “Then where the hell did you go?”

“Away where I wouldn’t cause any trouble.” Her voice grows distant, like she’s remembering. “My father was livid over a low grade I received at the end of junior year. But when he found us together, it pushed him to his breaking point. I embarrassed him. So he gave me a choice: finish my senior year at an all-women’s college two thousand miles away, or watch as he expelled you.”

I jerk to a sitting position, taking her with me. “What?”

She keeps her eyes on me. “Come on, Curran. You were caught in bed with a young woman whose father was the university’s president, in her sorority house, after curfew. Did you ever wonder why nothing happened to you?”

Yeah, about a million times—especially since the skinny bastard threatened to toss me. “You took the fall for me.”

Tears wet her cheeks, but she grins anyway. “I couldn’t let him ruin you, too.”

I think she’s maybe going to say more, but I silence her with a long kiss. Back in college, school, my friends, my frat—they meant everything to me. Good times, plus the opportunity to make something of myself.

“You took the fall for me,” I repeat, realizing everything it must have cost her.

Her soft smile and voice hold me in place. “And I’d do it again.”

Yeah. She would. “So why don’t I return the favor and take care of you now?”

“No.”

“Tess, don’t be so quick to say that. Take your time. Think things through.”

She kisses my chin. “I don’t want to be taken care of, Curran. I’ve had that all my life.”

“You’ve had it in a bad way. You don’t know the good part of it. Will you let me show you and get you outta here?”

She keeps her small smile, but this time, I see all that sadness buried behind it. “I wish I could. But it’s not fair to saddle you with my problems or finances.”

“Shouldn’t it be up to me to decide what’s fair?” I ask, as I pass my hand along her back.

“Not in this case, cop. You have to admit, all these details you’ve learned about me, it changes things, don’t you think?”

“It doesn’t change how I feel, or that I want to be with you. Hell, you know you’re all I ever think about.”

“I didn’t know that…but I’m glad.” Her hand lifts to stroke the stubble along my chin. “No one’s ever kissed me or touched me like you. And no one has ever made me feel this happy. You’re everything to me, Curran. I just don’t want to rush the good things between us because of the bad things in my life.”

“What if I love you?”

She stops moving. “What?”

I take a strand of her hair and tuck it behind her ear. “I said, I love you,” I repeat quietly.

Her face falls against my chest and she starts crying all over again.

“Christ, Killian warned me this would happen.” She cries some more. “Aw, baby, come on. Me lovin’ you should be a good thing.”

“It-it is-is,” she blubbers.

Being the sensitive guy I am, once more, I crack the hell up. She lifts her head and sighs, like she can’t believe I’m the jackass she’s stuck with. Of course, that only makes me laugh harder.

“Come here,” I say, kissing her hard. I haul her on top of me as I fall back in bed, pulling away just enough to grin against her mouth. “Now, tell me you love me, too.” This time, it’s her turn to laugh. “Well, you gonna keep me hanging?”

“I love you,” she says softly.

My grin widens. “Say it again.”

“I love you,” she says, laughing.

My hands slide over her ass. “One more time—this time, with feeling.”

She smiles through freshly falling tears. “I love you, Curran. I love you so much.”

I kiss her again, my arms sweeping up her back and then down again, pressing her tight against me. She dips her chin to kiss my neck and straddles me, grinding against my growing bulge. I peel off her nightgown when she reaches into my shorts to play.

We spend the night fu—wait, what’s the word the chicks like? Oh, yeah, we spend the night making love. If it weren’t for her alarm, I would have slept straight into the weekend. She shoves up on her arms, her messy hair falling all around her face.

Damn, she’s killer sexy.

“Shit,” she says, slapping at her alarm to shut it off. “Damnit.”

“I can see my charm’s rubbing off on you.”

She moans and crawls back on top of me. “I have class in an hour.”

I rub my eyes. Hell, we only slept about two hours. She lies against me for another few minutes before she nips at my chin and tries to climb off me. I snag her wrist before she can go far.

She leans in and nuzzles my neck. “Later, I promise,” she murmurs.

I release her wrist and slide my arm over her waist. “That’s not it, at least not this time.”

Worry etches along her tired eyes. I think she knows what I’m going to say, but I say it anyway. “You told me things would change between us now that I know about your dad.” I wait for her nod. “Well, you’re right. I don’t want you here. And I’m not going to pretend like everything’s fine, or turn a blind eye if he starts shit.”

“I just need to get through the next few months,” she reiterates.

“No, you don’t. You’re choosing to, and you think you need to, but I’m here to tell you it’s not something you have to do.”

“Curran…”

“Hear me out. I don’t throw the word ‘love’ around. The last woman I said it to was my ma, at my cheating dad’s funeral when I was trying to tell her everything would be all right. But I said it to you, so that says something, you feel me?”

“I mean it, too,” she says, quietly.

I watch her for a beat. “So do I. And because I said it, it comes with something—a promise. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, physically or otherwise. Don’t care who he is, even if he’s your blood. So if you want to stay, then stay. I’m not going to strong-arm you because then you’re only subbing one asshole for another.” I sit us up then. “The minute you want out, you’re out. No questions asked. But I won’t hide in a closet if he shows up, or pretend like we’re not together. I owe you the right to choose to be here, but you owe me the same respect back as your man.”

“I know,” she says, letting her hands slide along my shoulders. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you’re less to me than who you are. It wasn’t my intention. It was just survival.”

“I get it,” I tell her, and I do. That doesn’t mean it didn’t piss me off.

After a long while, Tess’s eyes travel to the alarm clock, only to widen. “Oh, shit,” she says again. She slips out of bed, nabbing my wrist in the process. “I need to get going. Will you help me get a shower?”

My lazy grin is answer enough. Oh, yeah, I’m definitely rubbing off on her in all the right ways.