I could see the tremble in Addie’s hands as she held them in front of her, yet she didn’t break Brandon’s stare for even a second. “In case you missed it, he lost his power over me.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Maybe he simply hasn’t tightened the reins.”
“I called the sheriff’s office,” Dolores cut in. “Someone’s on their way.”
Brandon glared at my receptionist. “Bunch of pansy asses.” But he started for the door. He gave Addie a solid shoulder check on the way. “I’d watch your back if I were you. Your father has ties that run deep in the community. They see what you’ve put him through, and they won’t stand for it.”
15
ADDIE
I stumbled back a few steps, Brandon’s words echoing in my ears. A shiver slid through me. Would I ever truly be free?
Warm hands curled around my shoulders. “Come on, Addie. I’ll take you back to my office.”
I let Beckett lead me down the hall on autopilot. The rage on Brandon’s face had sent me hurtling back in memory.
“You’re an embarrassment. That cornbread was dry, and the chicken tasted like you poured a pound of salt all over it.” My father towered over me; his face close to mine. “Are you trying to dishonor me in front of my men?”
“I-I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time.”
“Did I say you could speak?” His fist struck my cheekbone, sending me sprawling to the floor. His boot rammed into my ribs, forcing a cry from my lips. “You must like these punishments. Sick in the head, I tell you. That’s the only reason you’d keep messing up like this. You have to like it.”
“Addie.”
Hands cupped my cheeks, and Beckett’s face filled my vision. His thumb caught a tear trailing down my cheek. I hadn’t even realized I was crying.
“Addie.” My name was a guttural plea on his lips. “What can I do?”
“Nothing,” I whispered. There was nothing he could do to take away the memories or to stop my father and his hateful friends from trying to make my life miserable.
Beckett pulled me into a hug, holding me tight to his chest. My hands fisted in his shirt, knuckles bleaching white. The tears kept falling, but Beckett only held on tighter. I could feel his heartbeat against my cheek, steady and strong. His arms were firm but not too tight—and so incredibly warm. That warmth surrounded and engulfed me.
When was the last time someone had held me like this? I honestly couldn’t remember. Maybe Everly before she’d moved away? Or was it my mom before she left?
I wanted to drown in the sensation. If I stayed just like this, everything would be okay. All the what-ifs and threats couldn’t get me here. Yet, I couldn’t let myself. Because if I’d learned one thing over the years, it was that this kind of care couldn’t be relied upon.
I unclenched my fingers and pushed gently at the hard muscle beneath my palms. Beckett reluctantly let me go. “I’m so sorry, Addie. He never should’ve been here.”
“You can’t protect me from everyone in my old life. I’m bound to run into them now and again. His anger just took me by surprise.”
Brandon had never been kind to me, but he hadn’t gone out of his way to be cruel, either. I’d seen the mean streak in him, though. In the way he’d treated animals. How he’d interacted with the other ranch hands. I’d seen that and had given him a wide berth.
“You shouldn’t have to deal with it,” Beckett growled.
I shrugged. “I shouldn’t have to deal with a lot of things. That doesn’t mean I don’t.”
Beckett’s blue eyes drilled into me, asking a million different silent questions yet filled with such tenderness. He wanted to heal every hurt he saw in another. So, it only made sense that he would want to know every wound and scar. Only I wasn’t about to share that with anyone, especially not him.
I didn’t want Beckett to look at me with pity in his eyes. I didn’t want him to see me as broken. All I wanted was that ever-elusive word: normal. Yet it felt further and further out of my grasp.
I brushed away the last remnants of tears from under my eyes. “I’m fine, really.”
“Don’t lie to me, please. You don’t have to tell me what’s going on in your head. You don’t have to tell me what you went through at that ranch, but please don’t lie to me.”
I met Beckett’s gaze, not letting myself look away. He deserved that much. It was insulting to him that I’d tried to. We didn’t share everything, but we shared enough. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
His hand came up to my face again. “I don’t need an apology.”