Broken (Broken #1) (16 page)

“
Go back to
sleep,” he whispers and begins walking.

“
Uh-huh,” I
say, my lids still shut. This earns me a gentle squeeze.

I wake to the sound of curtains
being pulled open. Ugh. “Morning. It’s almost eleven twenty,
somebody must have been tired.”

“
Hello
Jeanine.” I say around a yawn and stretch. In shock my hands go to
my bare shoulders. My night dress is still on my body but my gown
isn’t. When did I take that off?

I think back… I didn’t take it
off.

“
Is Nathan
back?” I squeak and Jeanine nods with her usual smile. “Where is
he?”

“
He’s making
breakfast.”

“
I’m
surprised he didn’t wake me, he told me to be up by eleven every
morning.”

She quirks a brow, “Well he
gave me specific orders to let you rest, but I figured you wouldn’t
want to sleep all day and that baby needs to eat.” She hands me two
spoons that feel like they’ve been in the freezer. “Put the curved
part on the bags under your eyes. It’ll get rid of the
swelling.”

I groan but do as I’m told, “Do
I look like hell?”

She smiles sadly, “No my
darling, you look like a woman who’s just lost the father of her
child.” I lean into her hand when she strokes my cheek, I need the
comfort. “Now come on, up, up. Get dressed, I’ll be back in
ten.”

As I walk into the kitchen my
nose is assaulted by the scent of mushrooms and butter. My mouth
waters.

Dumping the spoons in the sink
I spy Nathan sat at the dining table in the next room, a book in
one hand as he eats with the other. He’s wearing glasses and I feel
like sniggering but still haven’t reached the point of that emotion
yet. He looks older than his time but he also looks too young to
look old. I’m not sure if this makes sense, but it also sort of
does.

At least he’s not wearing a
suit this time, it’s good to see him looking human in a plain white
T-shirt and dark blue jeans. This look suits him although I have to
admit, the suit suits him better.

Without looking up, he motions
to the space beside him and I see my plate of food and frown. “Why
don’t I get fried mushrooms?”

He looks over his book at me
from the end of the table as I take my seat beside him.

“
Oh come on,
if I don’t get any fat in my system I’m going to lose
weight.”

“
Fried
mushrooms aren’t on the list for a healthy pregnancy.”

“
If your
concerns were real then nobody would have a healthy pregnancy.” I
spy his full plate, sausages, bacon, toast, beans, mushrooms, the
whole shebang, but no eggs. Then I stare at mine. “Grilled tomato
and brown toast with margarine? You’re kidding me.”

“
Eat.” He
snaps, his eyes skimming through his book.

I do and it tastes bland and
awful. “Has this been cooked with sunflower oil?”

“
Organic.”

“
Ewww. Can’t
I just have a piece of bacon?”

He flips the page, “No.”

“
Just a
bite?”

“
No.”

I let out a growl and so does
my stomach, “You’re killing me here.”

He looks at me again, his brows
raised like a parent does to a child when they’re being naughty.
“Eat Guinevere.”

I have a forkful of my chopped
and grilled tomatoes and cringe. He’s looking at his book, he won’t
notice if I sneak a mushroom from his plate. They smell too good to
resist.

It’s the bacon my heart is set
on though, he has four slices. Four.

That’s just greedy. Nobody
needs that much bacon.

Very slowly and carefully I
slide my hand along the table, using my other one to eat the food I
have so it doesn’t look like I’m doing anything suspicious. He
can’t see, the book is in the way of his eyesight.

Almost there… smack.

I gasp and pull my hand back,
my mouth open in shock. He looks over the top of his glasses at me,
his closed book now on the table.

“
Did you just
hit my hand with your book?” I ask, my shock still evident as I rub
the back of my hand with my other one. It didn’t hurt it just
shocked me.

“
I said
no.”

“
You just hit
my hand with your book,” I say, my voice lower and more dangerous
this time. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

“
Are you an
animal?” He scowls, his palms flat on the table. “Because only
animals steal food from another’s plate.”

“
Are you an
animal?” I scowl back, repeating his words. “Because only animals
hit pregnant women.”

He sighs and rolls his eyes,
“So dramatic, it was just your hand.”

“
It’s still
assault.”

“
My food.
Don’t touch,” he glares and picks his book back up.

Why do I have this insane
feeling that I want to do it again? If he hits me again I swear
I’ll hit him back. I’m prepared.

So when he looks back to his
book, slowly chewing the food in his mouth I slowly slide my hand
over. YES! I got the bacon.

“
Put it
back,” he states, his eyes not leaving the book. How did he see
me?

“
But…”

His eyes still don’t leave the
book, “Put it back.”

“
You don’t
control me or my body, I’ll eat what I like.”

“
As long as
you’re staying here you’ll look after your body and your unborn
child the way you’re supposed to,” his book is now down and his
eyes are on me.

“
It’s just
bacon you freakin’ pig Nazi. I can’t live on organic, I still need
a bit of junk food,” I snap, my voice sounding as exasperated as I
feel and I feel extremely exasperated.

“
Do as you’re
told,” he half shouts.

“
No,” I bring
the bacon to my mouth, take a bite and chew.

He’s up in an instant, his
sudden move startles me so I’m up faster than I’ve been able to get
up for the past three months. We stare at each other, his eyes full
of warning; my body now shaking. I’m a little bit scared to be
honest.

I just want the bacon. I take
another bite, he stalks towards me. I step backwards with each step
he takes.

“
What are you
doing?” I ask, paralysed by my fear. I shouldn’t have pushed him, I
hardly know him. What if he slaps me or chains me up in my
room?

What if he takes my bacon?

“
Give me the
bacon.”

I blink when my back hits the
wall, “It’s just one slice of bacon.”

“
You
deliberately disobeyed me,” he snaps and holds a napkin out. “Give
me the bacon.”

“
Fine,
fucking have it,” I shout and place it on the napkin, my temper
rising.

Suddenly he’s in my face, his
hand slams into the wall beside my head. I whimper as he comes
closer until his nose is only an inch from mine. “Curse again and
you’ll regret it.”

“
What does
that mean?”

“
Curse again
and find out.” He threatens and pulls away, the bacon and napkin
crushed in his fist.

I slide down the wall after he
leaves the room, taking our plates with him. If I could wrap my
hands around my knees I would. Suddenly I don’t want to be here
anymore.

Before anyone sees me I race up
the stairs and hide in my room, my mind running through idea after
idea. He’s clearly unstable, he has serious control issues that I’m
not sure I want to deal with.

Maybe I should just stay out of
his way. Maybe I should just leave.

Where will I go, though? I need
to be realistic here.

I climb into my bed after
kicking off my shoes and bury my head under the covers. This is my
safety, this is where I feel the most comfortable so this is where
I’m staying. Why do I have to deal with this? I don’t deserve
this.

My heart and my breathing are
the only sounds I can hear as I shut out the world. My breath is
thick as it’s hard to breathe under a quilt but it’s okay. At least
I’m not crying, I’m so sick of needing to cry.

“
I’m leaving
now poppet,” Jeanine calls through the door. “Make sure you eat.
You didn’t touch your breakfast.”

I bury myself further under the
quilt after an, “Okay.” I’m so tired. So darn tired.

Does this ever get easier?

There’s a knock at the door
after the sun makes its descent. “Guinevere?” It’s Gwen. The
knocking becomes more insistent. “Guinevere, open the door.”

“
Go away,” I
say quietly but I know he hears me.

The door opens, I keep the
blanket tighter around my head.

“
Stop moping
and come and eat.” He demands, his tone showing his
annoyance.

I don’t respond, I don’t want
to eat with him. Leave me in my cave of woe in peace.

He sighs and I hear his
footsteps get closer, “Gwen.”

“
I’m
tired.”

I squeal when the blanket is
ripped away from my body and Nathan looms over me, looking every
bit as pissed off as I now feel. “This isn’t healthy.”

I try to bury my head under the
pillow but he takes that too.

After a moment of squeezing my
eyes shut and burying my face under my arms I’m airborne. “Put me
down,” I order, not daring to wiggle as he cradles me to his chest
for fear of him dropping me. “Now.”

“
Eat and then
you can wallow all you want,” he says calmly and carries me from my
room. My arms automatically wrap around his shoulders. “You’re very
light for someone who’s pregnant.”

“
Didn’t
realise you made a habit of carrying pregnant women,” I
remark.

“
You’re also
extremely frustrating.”

“
I am not.”
Maybe only a little bit, but who can blame me?

He lets out a breath and begins
to walk carefully down the stairs, “I apologize for upsetting you
this morning. Jeanine was rather insistent that I should never take
food from a pregnant woman, I’ll try to be more reasonable in the
future.”

What the hell should I say to
that? “Kay.”

He doesn’t speak, only takes me
into the dining room and places me gently on the chair beside his.
My nose instantly picks up the aroma of garlic and beef before I
even see my plate. My mouth waters at the sight of the stew.

“
You cooked
this?” I question, impressed with the food.

He gives a little shrug, “It’s
just stew.”

“
Caleb could
barely cook a frozen pizza,” I point out and dip a piece of fresh
bread into the broth. Oh my god. “This is better than mine. Thank
you.”

His eyes wander over my face
for a moment before he begins to eat his own, “I see you’re not
religious.”

“
Did you want
to pray?”

“
No.”

“
So…”

“
It was just
an observation.”

I quirk a brow at him, “You
observe strange things.”

“
Is it wrong
of me to want to know the woman who now lives with me a little
better?” His eyes fall to his food and his lower lip slips beneath
his teeth.

“
I suppose
not,” I swirl my spoon around the wonderful mixture and pick out a
piece of beef and potato. “Well I’m not religious, I wasn’t raised
religious but I do believe in God.”

He nods slowly but doesn’t seem
all that interested, his face is a mask of indifference and we fall
into silence. It’s an uncomfortable one.

I clear the table, just to have
something to do while he sits and speaks loudly to somebody on his
mobile. My ears perk up when he starts talking about his dad so I
wash the dishes in the kitchen, giving me a reason to linger. All I
hear is, “Yes, well, what my father says clearly goes.” And then he
moves onto talking about stocks and shares and other boring
things.

When he’s finished he steps
into the kitchen and loosens the blue tie around his neck, “Thank
you for doing the dishes.”

“
No problem,”
my nesting instinct wouldn’t let me leave them anyway.

“
Can I trust
you to be present for breakfast in the morning?” I shrug in
response. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“
Kay.”

“
Goodnight
Guinevere.”

“
It’s Gwen
and it’s only seven, you’re going to bed already?”

I hear him take a few steps
closer, “What I do isn’t your business… Gwen. Remember that.”

Wow. Seriously? He’s going to
be that rude? “I was just making an observation.”

“
Don’t, you
won’t like what you observe,” he states coldly and stalks out of
the room. The entire time I didn’t look at him and felt no desire
to either, until his parting comment. Now I can’t take my eyes off
his back as he walks away.

What the hell did he mean by
that? What won’t I like? Not that I’m trying to like anything or
looking for something to like.

I wake up in the morning
earlier than usual. Stupid morning sickness should have stopped by
now. It hasn’t. I race to the bathroom and fall to my knees in
front of the toilet. Yuck. Luckily the sickness subsides after the
first emptying of my stomach, unlike the past few months where it
has lingered deep in my tum, unrelenting for hours. Sometimes
making me feel so ill I’ve cried.

Once that’s over with I have a
long shower. It’s needed. I’m ashamed of myself for going for so
long without one especially when there’s a bathroom right next to
my room and it has a gorgeous walk in shower and a huge tub.
They’re old styled but they work brilliantly.