Pulled (33 page)

I watched as the black car slowly drove away. It took al the power within me not to run after him. I stood there in silence as he disappeared from view, wondering if this qualified as breaking the promise that we had just reiterated, the one that bound me to tel him everything I was feeling, what I feared, and what I needed. Yeah, probably. But I couldn’t voice it to Daniel.

He didn’t know Nicholas like I did.

I was the one who bore witness to the highly questionable things that had taken place in my
home
over the past nine years, things that Nicholas did without a second thought if it benefitted him in any way. I’d seen him lie and cheat and steal. He would go any distance to keep something from damaging his reputation, his self-importance.

When Daniel nonchalantly told me to get my things so we could leave, he caught me off guard. It was as if being with him hadn’t been real, that the afternoon was a figment of my imagination, and soon I would wake up to live my non-existence.

Realizing what Daniel planned had solidified the reality of what we’d experienced, and I panicked.

Immediately, I was seized with visions of the punishment Nicholas would impose upon me when he dragged me back here. Most of them centered on Daniel being harmed in some form or another because of me. So I’d searched for reasons to stay and, wel , they seemed likely enough because they were, in fact, true. We had to make sure the building went through, and it was high time for me to reconcile with Mom. I had to see that through. The fact was, though, one way or another, those situations could have been resolved without my being here.

Deep inside, I was probably being irrational. In al probability, Nicholas would do nothing to me, but I had to have time to think about how to leave him. He would take it a lot better if he didn’t come home and just find me gone. If I gradual y withdrew from him, he wouldn’t be shocked when I final y did leave. He’d expect it. It was what I’d initial y planned to do when I had made plans to leave with Katie, so this wouldn’t be any different.

I just needed a couple of weeks to make it clear to Nicholas that he did not own me. Then I would leave. I would see it through Mom’s visit, and ensure Daniel and I didn’t hurt Shane and Katie with any rash decisions. Then I would be free.

A contented smile spread across my face at the thought. Free—with Daniel. I’d spent nine years here. I would somehow endure a few more weeks.

I withdrew back into the house, fil ed with emotions that had so long been lacking from my life that I almost didn’t recognize them.

I padded barefoot across the cool floor, my feet light as if I were no longer weighed down. I hummed quietly to myself as I stood in front of the refrigerator, pul ing out the ingredients for the salmon I’d planned to make for dinner. I sealed the salmon in foil and placed the packets in the oven before dancing across the kitchen to start water for rice. I stopped short when I caught my reflection in the arched window that overlooked the backyard.

And I grinned—wildly and ful -toothed.

I ran into the bathroom to get a better look, the mirror confirming what I’d seen in the hazy window.

Yes, my hair was a mess and my clothes were wrinkled and disheveled. But my face, it was flushed and pink and glowing.

It was me. The real me—not broken Melanie, but my mother’s little girl. The same girl who’d sat at her mother’s knee. The girl who’d run carefree and climbed trees in her daddy’s backyard. The one who’d stayed up late giggling with her friends in eighth grade as we’d dreamed of our first kiss. The fifteen-year-old girl who’d fal en in love with Daniel Montgomery; the same one who’d love him until the day she died. I’d almost forgotten her, but there she was, staring straight back, her eyes alight and alive.

I traced the outline of my face, touching the heated skin of my cheeks and fingering the creases at the corners of my eyes as if I had to confirm that what I was seeing was real.

I smiled once more at my reflection before heading back into the kitchen. Joy surrounded me like an aura, hovering in the air, dense and thick, but unlike the weight of pain, it provided comfort and warmth.

Daniel loved me, wanted me, had me. The

experience was euphoric. It was if we had been taken to another realm, to a place where only the two of us existed.

I resumed my dinner preparations with fervor. My hands worked with precision as I sliced tomatoes and onions for a salad, fingers wet from the lettuce as I ripped the leaves from the head piece by piece. My body hummed with excitement, right along with the humming that came from my mouth.

There was nothing that could touch my mood.

Wel , except for the sound of the garage opening and the purr of the car pul ing in. I vowed that I wouldn’t even let Nicholas steal this feeling from me. Instead of focusing on the sound of his footsteps echoing through the house, I focused on the warmth stil covering every inch of my body from Daniel’s touch and the way his lips had felt against mine.

My face flushed.

I averted my face as Nicholas entered the room, concealing myself by stooping to retrieve the silver salad bowl from the bottom cupboard of the island. I stood when I heard the refrigerator door snap open. Nicholas’s back was to me, and I promptly set to work fil ing the bowl with the ingredients waiting on the counter.

I said nothing to Nicholas. I simply ignored his presence. He twisted the cap off the beer bottle and crossed his arms over his chest. Sighing deeply, he rested against the closed refrigerator door and took a deep drag of the yel ow liquid. I moved across the room and poured the rice into the boiling water. I kept my head down as I made my way back to the island to keep from drawing attention to myself. It took everything in me to stay focused on the task in front of me. I felt the intensity of Nicholas’s dark eyes burning into the side of my face, and anxiety immediately built within me. I’d been so successful in avoiding him for the better part of a month. Neither of us had said anything more than was necessary to the other.

Now there was something very different and very unsettling about him as he stood silently drinking me in.

Did he know? I struggled to keep my breathing even as fear set in. My stomach twisted in knots, and my mouth became dry.

He couldn’t know. There was no possible way.

Could he?

Keeping my eyes focused in front of me, I spent an exceeding amount of time arranging the salad in the bowl. Stil , I couldn’t keep myself from glancing at him through my hair that had fal en over my shoulder and onto my chest.

The fear I’d had that he knew about Daniel and me were put at ease. For the first time Nicholas’s face held no anger or disdain, only complete curiosity. I continued working nervously. He took another swig of his beer before stepping forward to the island. He placed the bottle on the counter and pushed my hair from my face. I cringed, pul ing away from his fingers, desperate to escape the scrutiny.

“You look different.” His shook his head, his face puzzled, trying to put his finger on the change.

Oh, if he only knew.

I scowled at him, trying to brush him off. “That’s ridiculous.”

We both jumped when the buzzer from the oven went off, effectively giving me an out. I took the long way around the island, grabbed mitts, pul ed the salmon out, and set it on the island. I moved to the cabinet to get the plates. The heat of his intense gaze never left me for a second. The plates clattered against one another in my trembling hands, and I clipped the edge of the cabinet as I took them out, thankful it was not hard enough to break them. I took a deep breath to steady myself. I had to get myself together. I needed to stay here for at least another month, and I was raising suspicion the first day.

I col ected myself the best I could before I turned and cautiously placed the plates on the counter.

I should have known Nicholas would not let this go.

As much as I hated him and would have liked to believe otherwise, he was an intel igent man and never easily deceived.

He was suddenly behind me, breathing down the side of my neck as he looked over my shoulder. My hands visibly shook as I tried to tear the foil packets open and dump the salmon onto the plates. I went rigid when his fingers ran up the length of my arm, my chest quaking as I held down the sob forming within.

“Not ridiculous, Melanie.” His voiced oozed an unknown tenor, intrigued and searching, unlike anything I’d ever heard from him before, but more frightening than any threat he’d ever made. “Something’s different.” He swal owed, the sound loud against my ear. His words came rough and needy as he whispered into my jaw, the complete foulness of his being washing across my face,

“And I like it.”

My fingers dug into the countertop as he ground himself into my back, his mouth aggressive as he began to suck and bite the skin of my neck. I tried not to whimper as tears sprang to my eyes. No. This couldn’t happen. I had just promised Daniel I was his, that I would never al ow myself to be touched by another man, and here I stood, enabling it just like I’d done those nine, miserable years.

But there was more.
I
didn’t want to be touched. I wanted to keep that promise I’d made to myself, not just because of Daniel, but because I deserved to be respected, to respect myself. I didn’t have to subject myself to this.

I was scared, but the need to be free was so much greater than that fear. Somewhere within me, I found the same courage I’d found the night I’d successful y removed myself from Nicholas’s bed because there was no way in hel I was going back to it. I wrestled out of his grasp, and he released me in his surprise. His eyes first widened, but narrowed as his anger flared.

I rounded my shoulders and turned back to him, praying I looked much more confident than I felt. Truly, I was terrified. My whole body rumbled with the fear coursing through my veins. The pumping adrenaline was my only salvation.

Amazingly my mouth spil ed the words I’d dreamt of saying every day for the last nine years. “Don’t ever touch me again.”

Nicholas’s face twisted in fury, indignant at being defied for the second time. His expression became a clear warning that I needed to get away. I turned on my heel to flee, but he wrapped his hand around my wrist and jerked me back, digging his fingers into my skin.

“Don’t forget who you belong to, Melanie.” His words were sharp, deep with implication.

I was tempted to end it al right there and tel him exactly who I
did
belong to, but I was certain that it would push him over the edge. Instead, I remained stil , never backing down as his eyes bore into mine.

He squeezed harder, his hold becoming

increasingly more painful, but I could see the uncertainty swirling in his thoughts. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I’ve about had enough.” He constricted his hold on my wrist, and I bit my lip to hold back the cry of pain before he dropped my arm in frustration, glaring at me before turning and stalking from the room.

The breath I’d been holding escaped in a loud, audible gush, leaving me gasping. I braced myself on the counter for support, my knees weak and threatening to give way.

I did it.

I did it.

He’d backed down, and I’d done it almost

unscathed, al except for the throb in my wrist. I cradled it against my chest as I massaged it, soothing the ache that rapidly set in. I held it up, fingering the band of red, swol en skin. It was definitely going to bruise.

Once my breathing returned to normal and my body began to relax, I realized I was exhausted—and starving. It seemed days since I’d eaten the vegetable omelet for breakfast just before Daniel had come. So much had happened since then; so much had changed. I just wanted to eat and then curl up in bed so I could relive today.

I tore open the intact foil packet, steam rising as I dumped its contents onto a plate. I added a healthy portion of salad, skipping the rice that sat overdone and dry on the stovetop. By second nature, I began to pack up the other serving but stopped myself. That wasn’t my job anymore.

The bastard could fend for himself. I took my plate and left the kitchen, leaving the rest of the food on the counter and hoped he would get the message I was sending him.

I yawned as I lay my head against the pil ow. My stomach was ful and satisfied and my body was pleasantly tired and seeking respite. I curled onto my side, burying my face in the sheets, breathing in Daniel’s scent mixed with mine. My muscles twitched as I relaxed and slowly drifted to sleep. Daniel’s beautiful face was the only thing I saw from behind my closed eyes. I murmured, “Good night, Daniel. I