Pulled(58)
Author: A.L. Jackson

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, pulled 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 collected 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 all 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 successfully 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 all 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 still , 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, all 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 full 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 love you,” into the darkness, certain now that he always sensed my distant thoughts and words.

My eyes darted open from my half-conscious state, jarred by the sudden alternating vibrating and buzzing coming from somewhere deep within the bed. I had a text.

Frantically, I shuffled through the twisted sheets, searching for the offending object. I hadn’t called Katie today, so she was probably worried, and Katie worried translated to Katie being just a tiny bit pissed. The red, blinking light served as my guide, and I reached deep into the covers to grab the missing phone. I pressed the rol er bal to retrieve the message. Not Katie.

My stomach did a flip-flop, and suddenly I felt like a teenage girl again, butterflies making an appearance for the first time in nine years. The sender was unknown and the message simply asked if I was there, but I knew it was Daniel.

He told me he missed me and loved me, that he couldn’t wait to see me again, and then he bid me goodnight. Knowing that tomorrow we didn’t have to wake to feel the same emptiness and hopelessness we’d felt for nine years, I knew it would be a very good night.