Pulled(2)
Author: A.L. Jackson

The only comfort I found was in knowing Shane would be at the dinner. Shane Preston was Nicholas’s business partner and the nicest guy I knew. While Nicholas was cocky and arrogant and felt the world owed him, Shane was modest and thankful for all he had. He continually cleaned up the shit Nicholas repeatedly caused, soothing clients’ nerves and regaining their trust after Nicholas had done something unethical.

The dinner also meant that Katie, Shane’s wife, would be there. She was the one friend I had in this world.

She knew the real me and was the only one I had ever taken into my confidence since I’d married Nicholas. Shane and Katie’s presence there would at least make the evening bearable.

Nicholas finished his food, and I cleared the table and took the dishes into the kitchen. I was exhausted. I wondered how much more of this I could take. Surely, I would never survive this life sentence I’d imposed on myself. I loaded the dishwasher and went upstairs to take a bath.

Turning the hot water valve full blast, I let it run, anxious to feel the heat relax my muscles. I unbuttoned my pants and slid them down, shrugging them off my feet. As I pulled my shirt over my head, my gaze reflexively dropped to my stomach as I caught my reflection in the mirror, my first instinct to seek out the marred skin that bore her wounds.

Gently, I caressed along the puckered, angry scar slanting in a long, jagged line across my lower abdomen to where it crossed the smooth, silvered scar running in a horizontal line just above my pelvis, wishing she could somehow find comfort in my touch. Chills shook my body as I ran my fingers over the still sensitive skin, and just like every night, the bitterness and anger I found myself feeling faded away into sadness as I lost myself in this tangible reminder of my child. I loved her, so much.

Steam filled the room, and I eased myself into the water, all owing myself to drift back to Daniel. I missed him, almost more than I could bear. This was never supposed to have happened to us. We were supposed to make it…we should have made it.

“Melanie, hurry up and get in here!” I cringed as Nicholas yel ed from the bedroom.

Shit. I’d hoped he’d be asleep by now.

Reluctantly I rose and pushed the memories aside. I wrapped myself in my robe, slow to finish my normal routine. I shouldn’t have been stal ing; he’d wait.

Stil , I took my time as I brushed my teeth and ran a brush through my long brown curls. I inhaled deeply and took one last look at myself before going into the bedroom.

“Don’t keep me waiting like that,” Nicholas rebuked from his place under the covers.

This was by far the worst part of our arrangement.

I couldn’t help but feel like a prostitute, cheating on my own heart when I lay beneath this man. I crawled into bed next to him, praying he would at least have the decency to turn off the light.

He untied the belt on my robe, reaching to grope my breast with his cal used hand. My body roiled with disgust that he mistook as anticipation. “You like that, don’t you,” he growled as his foulness spread across my face. I fought against my instinct to flee and instead, reached over to the bedside table and flicked off the lamp.

The blackness enveloped the room, all owing me to remove myself mentally from the sick situation. I closed my eyes to find an image of Daniel— a flash of messy blond hair.

“You’re mine.” Nicholas’s voice jerked me back into reality, making me acutely aware of his sweaty panting body hovering above me. I closed my eyes tighter, willing my mind away.

“Melanie, my love. You’re so beautiful,” he said as he held my body against his, tender caresses igniting a fire deep within me.

“Daniel,” was all I could manage as he made love to me, each touch a whisper across my skin. He gently kissed my neck as he moved against me, and I felt the pressure build with each stroke of his body.

“Melanie, you feel so good,” he ground out, his voice rough with emotion.

I couldn’t help the little moan that escaped my lips, the flash of desire that washed over my body as it remembered the way only Daniel could make me feel.

“That’s right. I feel good, don’t I,” Nicholas grunted as he finished and col apsed with all of his weight on me.

The nausea swept through me, and I pushed Nicholas away. “I need to clean up,” I choked over my standard excuse as I rushed to the bathroom. I fel to my knees at the toilet, desperate to purge away the hate I had for myself. The act left me feeling more empty and alone.

Holding onto the vanity for support, I pulled myself up to stand. I rinsed my mouth and splashed water on my face—anything to make me feel clean again—but there was nothing that could wash away the shame.

I stared at myself in the mirror, the reflection no longer one I recognized. The girl I remembered was seventeen—ful of life and love. The one staring back at me may as wel have been dead. The only life left flickered in the periphery of my consciousness where a familiar comfort waited in the darkness. As I climbed into bed, I grasped for it, desperate to feel him for one moment more.

Chapter 02

“Work, Daniel. Come on, get your shit together,” I mumbled to myself under my breath, raking my hands through my hair for the hundredth time today. Thoughts of her kept creeping in, and I found it impossible to focus on the contracts in front of me. After nine years, I should’ve been able to forget, but I knew I never would.

Melanie.

Part of me hated her, and that part still wanted to track her down, to tel her how she had torn my heart out.

How could I hold it against her though? I knew what I’d done. Even then, I’d thought we’d still get through it together.

Sighing, I ran my palm over my face in an attempt to wake myself up and read the submission in front of me one more time. I was completely exhausted, having substituted coffee for sleep for the last week.

Since arriving in Chicago five months ago, I’d sifted through countless contractors’ proposals for our new medical complex, weeding out the under-qualified and over-priced. I’d begun to think there wasn’t a single competent contractor in all of Chicago before I finally received, what looked to be, a promising bid. I’d spoken with their project manager just this morning and was now awaiting a cal from their CEO.

After Melanie left, I’d buried myself school, lost myself in the years of undergrad, medical school, and ultimately, my residency. As it turned out, I was a damn good doctor, even if there had been a point in my life when I thought I’d never make it through.

Dad had been insistent I come back to Colorado Springs to join his practice once I finished my rotation in New York City. He didn’t have to ask twice.