Authors: Allie Kincheloe
Chapter Nine
The sun shone high in the sky, brightening the room when Talia woke the next day. She stretched and had to stifle a cry when she moved her aching, stiff arms. Purplish and black marks shaped like a man's hands marred the pale skin of both her upper arms. Adrenaline had run high yesterday; that must have been why she hadn't realized Caleb held her so tight he'd left marks. The jerk would leave her with one last remembrance of their relationship. Asshole. A long shower helped to loosen up her sore muscles, but nothing would take away those bruises but time.
Checking the weather report, she groaned when she saw that it was supposed to be the warmest day so far this year. Bruises were much easier to cover in the winter. She'd had a lot of practice with it over the last few months.
She stood in front of her closet, wrapped in a towel trying to choose an outfit, when her mom walked into her room. Her mother gasped as she caught sight of the bruises and began to yell for her dad. "Sam! Sam! Get up here now!"
"Mom, can I get dressed? Please! Dad doesn't need to see me in just a towel!" Talia squealed as she tightened her hold on her towel to keep it closed.
"Helen? Talia? What's wrong? What's going on?" her dad shouted, running into the room.
"Look at the bruises on Talia's arms! Those are handprints." Helen seized her husband's arm with one hand as he ran in and used the other to point a well-manicured finger at the bruises on Talia's biceps.
Her dad stepped closer and rotated Talia's arms so he could see the entire bruises. When he spoke, his angry tone demanded answers. "Care to explain to me how you got these bruises?"
Talia jerked away from him. Her heart rate ticked up and her dad didn't even notice he'd scared her. She got a grip on her fear—and her towel—and spilled the events of the previous day. Her voice shook so much her mom came over and pulled her into a big hug.
Her dad's eyes zeroed in on the brown jacket lying across the end of her bed. Picking it up and holding it out so that he could judge size, he snarled out a question. "This jacket is huge. Who does it belong to? Was it the guy who left those marks on your arms?"
"No, Dad! It belongs to a friend. I told you Caleb caused the bruises!"
"You don't have any friends big enough to fill this out. This is a man's jacket, not a boy's. I'm going to ask you again, who does it belong to?"
"I just told you, a friend. Well, more of an acquaintance than friend. I met him last week. He's a bartender at Garden, you know, the club downtown. His name is Sean. He gave me a ride home a couple times. No big deal, Dad. Why is that what you're so concerned about?"
"A bartender! No. Absolutely not! Get dressed. We are taking this back. Twenty-one or not, I don't want my daughter gallivanting around with a damn bartender. Today will end your friendship, acquaintance, whatever you choose to call it, with this guy." Her dad huffed as he stomped out of her room, anger rolling off the middle-aged man in waves.
"Mom, what just happened? Why is Daddy being so unreasonable about this? I'm a grown woman—old enough to choose my own friends." Talia gaped and looked over at her mother in confusion. Her dad
never
acted like this.
"I have no idea, honey. Get dressed and go with him. You know your father still sees you as his little girl. I suppose he has something against big guys and bartenders."
"Why does Sean's size or job matter? Daddy's never seemed to care what my friends did for a living before. He's fine with Claire coming over, and you know she was a stripper for a while."
"He's not going to relax until you cooperate and he gets to blow off a little of that head of steam he has built up. You know how he gets." Helen gave Talia a gentle hug before nudging her toward the closet. "Best to get dressed before he convinces himself that your friend did more than bruise your arms, honey."
Talia chose jeans and a soft shirt with loose sleeves. She dreaded her dad and Sean meeting today. She didn't want to stall and give her dad time to work himself up more, so she headed downstairs. Her hands shook though.
Talia's dad fumed the entire ride to the club. He gripped the steering wheel of the truck so tight he was lucky it didn't snap right off. She tried to initiate a conversation, but his clipped responses shut her up. Sean's jacket lay in her lap and she rubbed her hands over the soft leather in an attempt to calm her nerves.
Sean already considered her too young. Her dad yelling at him over nothing more than an item of clothing would only confirm that for him. Last night, it had seemed like Sean was coming around, despite the age gap. There was no way this wasn't going to permanently ruin any chance she had with him. She sighed. Maybe someday her dad would realize that she was an adult.
Swinging into the parking lot at Garden, her dad jerked the truck to a stop next to a black coupe. Sean's car. The only car parked in front of the older brick building. Talia stepped reluctantly out of the truck. Her dad grabbed her firmly by the wrist, pulling her along with him to the door. Tears filled her eyes before they even got to the building. She did
not
want to walk through those doors with her dad on a rampage over nothing. Hadn't her family embarrassed her enough in front of Sean?
The club didn't open for several hours yet, but when her dad shoved at the door, it opened. He stomped inside with Talia trailing after him.
Sean was pulling chairs off the tables toward the back. He yelled out, "We aren't open yet," before turning to look their direction. When he recognized her, Sean flipped the chair in his hands down to the freshly mopped floor and walked over their way.
"Hey Talia, what are you doing here?" Confusion lingered in his eyes, but Sean smiled down at her. He had such a nice smile. Too bad her dad was about to wipe it right off his handsome face.
"You must be Sean," her dad snapped. Her dad's posture stiffened further and his eyes narrowed as he took in the tattoo sleeves on Sean's muscular arms.
Sean nodded in confirmation, his hands reaching for the jacket Talia held out to him. "You could have kept this. I hadn't missed it."
Chapter Ten
Black and purple bruises peeked out from beneath Talia's shirt and drew Sean's attention. He reached out and pushed the bottom of her sleeve up. His breath rushed out in a jagged exhale when he saw the finger marks. "Shit, are those from yesterday?"
Her dad barked at him, "Yes, they're from yesterday. Did you leave those bruises on my little girl's arms?" Hands clenched at his sides, a glare on his face, her dad looked pissed. He'd come looking for a fight, that much was clear.
"Daddy! I already told you what happened." Talia's cheeks colored and she glared at her father, clearly embarrassed.
"And I want to hear it from him how you came home in his jacket with a man's handprints on your arms." The older man's words growled out between gritted teeth. He didn't look at his daughter. Oh, no, he reserved that death glare for Sean.
"No, sir, I did not do that. I'd never hurt Talia, or any woman, like that." Sean sighed. Crap, just what he wanted to start his day with, an overprotective father on the warpath. He'd be the same way if he ever had a daughter come home bruised and battered, but damn.
"I'm not sure of the details on how she got the bruises. I came across her at the beach last night. The wind had her shivering, so I gave her my jacket. We sat and talked until Zane came over. That's it." Sean kept his voice calm and low as he spoke to Talia's father. He needed to defuse the bomb in front of him. The last thing he needed was for the older man to come at him swinging. He'd spent the last five years cleaning up his act; he wasn't going to jail for fighting over a girl he hadn't even kissed. Reaching slowly for the beautiful redhead, he ran a gentle hand up her arm and lay it next to the bruise. Talia shivered and it sure as shit wasn't from cold.
"Look, my hands are much bigger than these bruises. If I'd been the one to hurt Talia, the bruises would cover her entire arm."
When the truth of his statements sank in, the older man deflated the slightest bit. It didn't last long, though. "You are still not to hang around my daughter anymore. How old are you anyway? Too old to be panting after a twenty-one-year-old girl, that's for damn sure!"
"I'm twenty-nine, sir. And I've never even asked for her number." He doubted he kept the annoyance from showing on his face.
Shit, her dad treats me like I'm the abusive jerk who hurt her.
And Talia was twenty-one, not twelve. She could hang around with whomever the fuck she pleased. Him, or a whole damn biker gang if that's what she wanted. He had to bite his tongue to keep from unleashing a sharp reply.
"Well, keep your distance!" the older man snarled before he stomped out of the club.
"I'm sorry, Sean. I didn't know he'd blame you for the bruises on my arms. I explained what happened but, well, you can see he didn't listen. He freaked over my arms. I'm so sorry. Thanks again for last night," Talia murmured. Her beet-red face and downcast eyes tugged at his heart as she whispered, "Bye."
Grabbing her hand, he kept her from running out the door behind her dad. He flinched and let go when fear flashed in her eyes. "Talia, how bad did Caleb hurt you? Does your dad not know what he was like?"
"No, he pretty much skipped over that fact and flipped out about you being a big guy and a bartender instead. The fact that Caleb hurt me didn't faze him. I don't know what his deal is. But I need to go before he comes back in with a shotgun or something. Bye."
Sean stared at the door as Talia walked out of his club, and hoped she wasn't walking out of his life.
Chapter Eleven
Moving into the Downward Dog position, Talia's gaze drifted out toward the main area of the gym. She tuned out the yoga instructor and missed moving into the next pose when her eyes landed on a familiar face in the weight area. Her first glimpse of Sean since that incident with her dad had to be when sweat poured down her face and pink yoga pants clung to her damp thighs. Of course.
A sheen of sweat glistened off him. The muscles in his chest and arms bulged as he lifted the weights. Talia couldn't look away. She licked her lips and watched him, completely ignoring her instructor and class moving on without her. Her class wasn't hot yoga, but Sean sure turned up her heat.
When walking out after class, Talia's gaze stayed on the weight area across the gym. Specifically on the tattooed dark-haired man who stared back at her. His attention was fixated on Talia every bit as much as hers was on him. That little grin on his face made her want to cross the gym and see how sweaty they could get.
Karly's laughter cut through her lusty haze. She glanced over at her sister. Her mom swatted Karly and admonished her to leave her sister alone. Heat rose in Talia's face and she ended up walking right into an elliptical trainer. Karly smirked at her while her mom wrapped an arm around Talia's shoulder to lead her from the gym.
"Well, he looks nothing like I expected. That's your bartender friend, isn't it?"
Talia nodded at her mother. She struggled to maintain eye contact with Sean even though her mother pushed her toward the exit. When they got to the door, Talia sent a little wave at Sean and smiled when he returned it.
Her mom's arm squeezed her into an awkward one-armed hug as she whispered to Talia, "You know, for someone who told your father he wasn't interested, that boy sure stared you down hard. Methinks he protest too much. I bet he cleans up nicely, doesn't he? Hard to tell when he's all covered in sweat."
Giggling at her mom's comments, Talia climbed into the car. She bit her tongue against the comment that begged to be blurted out. She didn't care what he looked like cleaned up. He looked damn good sweaty.
"What in the world is this?" Her mom pulled an envelope from under the wiper, opened the flap, and a picture fell out. The photo was dark, but clear. In the photo, Sean tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as they snuggled at the beach. A note on the back read:
Playing with fire will get you burned.
Remember that before you let him between your legs, bitch.
"Oh my God, Talia. Where did this come from? Is that you and Sean?" Karly snatched the photo from Talia's trembling fingers and read the words on the back out loud. Their mom gasped and grabbed her phone.
"Anna? This is Helen Richmond. I just found a threating photo on my car. Mmmhmm. Yes. No. Okay, we will meet you there." She dropped her phone into her purse and pulled out. "Anna said we shouldn't touch it or the envelope more than necessary. She wants to see it immediately."
They met Anna at the station and she took the photo. She helped Talia file a police report.
Tapping her fingers on the desk, Anna stared down at the photo. "Talia, honey, do you have any idea who might have done this? Any place we can start with this?"
Talia could only think of one person. "I had a bad breakup not long ago. Caleb... He could be behind this." Why couldn't Caleb leave her alone? Hadn't he done enough to make her life utter misery? The bastard just wouldn't quit. To this day, she wondered how she'd been so blind she missed his domineering ways, his need for control, and his unbending opinions.
Anna promised to look into it and sent the photo to get fingerprinted. Hopefully they would get a good print from it and do something before the situation escalated. They all had to get fingerprinted, since they'd touched the photo.
She stared out the window, tears in her eyes the entire way home. Even Karly remained quiet for once.
When they told her dad, he lost it. "I told you that damn bartender was no good! You need to steer clear of him. He's not good enough for you. That guy is nothing but trouble."
"Sam, how could Sean take a distant picture of himself? He was in the picture with Talia."
"I don't know. But he's to blame. I feel it in my bones." Her dad stomped out and slammed the door behind him.
He came back after a walk, calmer and more rational. His logic made sense when he insisted that Talia, her mom, and Karly all sign up for a self-defense class immediately. None of them argued. Talia wished she'd thought to take a self-defense class earlier. Maybe then she'd have been brave enough to stand up to Caleb.