Chasing Temptation: Forbidden Series #7, page 6
She stiffens when she realises I’m next to her. It’s physically painful, but I just about manage to keep my hands to myself. I can practically feel the walls she’s put up around herself, and I’ve got to respect that she needs some space right now.
The silence stretches out, and I start to think she’s not going to say anything, let alone register that I’m sitting here with her.
“There was never any question that I would follow in my parents’ footsteps and become a teacher. I never questioned it because as a child I idolised both of them. They were both intelligent, hard-working, and what I thought were the perfect parents.
“Dad was just a maths teacher when I was a kid. It wasn’t until the year I left that he was promoted to head. Mum was only working part time by then, but she soon gave up. I assumed it was because they didn’t need the money anymore, seeing as they’d moved into a school owned property. I was only to learn a few years later that my dad basically told my mum that she was done.
“I went to university, did my degree and my PGCE. My dad ensured I did my placements either at Earlington or at another local private school of his choice. I was still totally in the dark as to what he was really like. I assumed he just wanted the best experience for me to start my career off properly. I had no idea he was keeping me close, stopping me from seeing how different Earlington could be to other schools that would have alerted me to issues earlier on.
“It was a good school when I was there as a student. As far as I knew, the teachers enjoyed working there, the students were happy, and I never heard of anything untoward aside from the kids usual breaking of the rules.
“Dad ensured that I got a job with him. I didn’t want to work there. I wanted to spread my wings. I also wanted to experience a state school to see what the differences would be. He told me that it would be hard work, that I’d regret it, a million and one excuses that I believed, and eventually I agreed and accepted the post he offered me as a newly qualified English teacher.
“That was probably his biggest mistake. He thought he could control me, make me believe that some of the accusations that started appearing were nothing more than lying, pissed off, privileged kids. He wanted me around to tell everyone else what an upstanding citizen he was and how trustworthy he was. But those accusations just kept coming. I could only defend him so many times before I started questioning him.
“By this time, Jeremy and I were already engaged. We’d been together a few years and friends, thanks to our fathers, since we were in nappies. It was almost expected that we’d end up together. I was naive. I thought he was cute. I thought he was caring in a similar way that my dad was. It was only years later that I’d discover that ‘caring’ was actually controlling. But it was all I’d ever known.”
I blow out a slow breath as her words register within me. My fists clench as the level of passive-aggressive, controlling behaviour she’s been subjected to her entire life becomes clear.
“Don’t get me wrong, I loved—love—my job. It might have been expected of me but I truly can’t imagine doing anything other than working with kids. But as the accusations started getting stronger, I started to resent everything.
“Jeremy and I got married and that was a serious turning point. Rumours started, accusations got more and more serious, and names started to be revealed. It seemed to be getting to the point that Dad couldn’t sweep it all under the rug or pay off whoever it was who felt brave enough to poke their heads above the parapet.
“Somehow, no one ever went to the police. I assume because they didn’t believe they’d win. My dad was an enigma, a power that no one thought they could touch. He controlled every inch of that school with a strength that appeared unbreakable.”
“Until you broke him.”
She nods, her hands trembling as she twists her fingers, lost in her memories.
“Jeremy’s name started to be brought up and it coincided with him getting angrier and rougher with me at home. Since the day we got married he wasn’t exactly pleasant to me, but he turned into a monster. I hated going home to discover what kind of mood he’d be in and what he thought I’d done wrong that day.
“He got the idea in his head that I should stop teaching and be a housewife and mother to our kids.” She laughs, but the sound is anything but joyful. “He was delusional. I was never going to allow him to bring another person into our fucked up world. It got the point that he assumed something was wrong with me because I couldn’t fall pregnant. That only made his attitude and behaviour towards me even worse. I was pointless to him if I couldn’t give him a son.”
“Jesus,” I mutter, trying to put myself in her shoes.
“I refused to give up my job. There was no way I was agreeing to basically have myself locked in that house like my mum was. I hardly ever saw her, and when I did it had to be meticulously arranged. She convinced me it was because she was busy with friends and bake sales for the church, but I soon discovered that was all a cover up. She was hiding. Hiding from my dad and his anger.
“I started digging into the accusations more. I’d talk to the kids, listen to all the rumours, but I wasn’t getting anywhere. So I made a drastic move. I bugged Dad’s office. Two days after I snuck in and hid the microphones, a fifteen-year-old boy accused Jeremy of sexually abusing him in his classroom.
“He was ignored, of course, brushed under the carpet like all the other indiscretions. Until I listened back to the recording from Dad’s office. It got everything from Jeremy talking about the incident, as he called it, and Dad reassuring him that it could never be proved and he’d do whatever it took to keep his name clear.
“That Friday night, while they were all playing poker—if that’s even what they actually did—I packed a small bag, said goodbye to my mum, took my recording to the police, and ran.
“Jeremy had kept me locked up to a point that I’d made no friends over the years, apart from one.”
“Eddie,” I add.
“I either went to him or...well, I didn’t really have any other option. The streets, I guess. I left with only a bit of cash, leaving behind anything I thought could trace him to me. I dyed my hair, got new contacts that changed my eye colour, and I turned up at Eddie’s door, hoping that our friendship was strong enough for him to help me. It had been two years since he’d got a job in London and left. He’d hated Earlington almost as much as I did. We connected immediately. By that point in my marriage, I was aware that Jeremy was doing his best to keep me locked up so I knew a friendship with another man was a sure fire way to set him off. We kept it on the down low for months before Jeremy made a surprise visit to my classroom one afternoon and found us laughing together.
“I could see the fire burning in his eyes and I knew I’d fucked up. That moment was where it really all changed for me. I knew I needed to find a way to get out. If me having a friend outside of our marriage was too much, then I knew it was time to end it. I just knew that wasn’t going to be easy, and it was another two years before I found my way out.
“Thankfully, Eddie recognised me the second he opened his front door, and I guess the rest is history.”
She falls silent. The words she just said to me hang heavy in the air between us. I’ve still got so much more that I want to know, but I keep my lips sealed. If I’ve learned anything about Quinn over the past few weeks, it’s that she opens up when she’s ready. I’ll just have to wait for her, even if I want to shake her to find out the real reason she ran in here in the first place.
After dragging in a long, shaky breath, she pulls her head from her arms and turns to look at me.
My breath catches at the exhaustion in her eyes. Reliving all that really just took it out of her. I’m just about to tell her that we need to go to bed when she beats me to it.
“You need sleep. You shouldn’t be sitting down here on the hard floor with me.”
Reaching out, I take her hand and lift it to my lips. The split is well healed after that arsehole punched me, but the roughness of the scab scratches against her soft skin as I kiss the back of her hand. “I’ll sit anywhere you need me to.”
Her eyes fill with tears once again, but she doesn’t respond. Instead, she stands and reaches out to help me from the floor.
Getting up and to the bedroom is harder than I want to admit, and I’m in agony by the time Quinn’s helped me drop my jeans and slip the damn hospital gown that I’m still wearing from around my shoulders.
I almost sigh when my skin connects with the soft cotton of the sheets after being stuck between scratchy hospital ones for the last few days, but I’m too exhausted now I’m down.
Quinn makes sure I’m comfortable before pulling the sheets back and climbing in. She doesn’t even attempt to undress; instead she lies beside me fully clothed, leaving too much space between us.
Rolling onto my side and breathing through the pain, I reach out and pull her into my body. She tenses the second I touch her, but she doesn’t do anything else. I’m not awake long enough to know if she relaxes under my touch, and I fucking hate it.
Chapter Seven
Something drags me from my sleep and I lie awake for a few seconds before I realise what it was when Quinn flinches beside me again.
“No, no. Don’t touch me.”
My stomach turns over at what she must be reliving.
“Shhh…Quinn. It’s okay. I’m here, you’re safe.” I gently stroke her cheek, the roughness of my thumb scratching lightly at her delicate skin.
Her head thrashes from side to side and I expect her to wake, but after a few more seconds, her breathing slows and she falls back to sleep.
Seeing the evidence of what she experienced first-hand is enough to have me wanting to go back and finish the job I started on that motherfucker. There might not have been any charges after I assaulted him, but I’d happily take whatever I’d get if I were able to get my hands on him again.
When I wake again, the bed beside me is empty and the sheets are cold. The ball of dread that’s still sitting heavy in my stomach after her admissions last night grows. She’s not okay right now, but I’m at a total loss for what to do to help. Without knowing what happened, I don’t even know what I’m dealing with.
The sound of water running fills my ears and I push myself up so I’m sitting. My need to go to her is too much to ignore, and before I know it I’m making my way towards the bathroom. I’m expecting the door to be locked, her way of keeping her distance, but I’m pleasantly surprised when I find it once again opens when I push the handle down.
Taking it as an invitation, I walk inside to find her.
Her back’s to me as she stands under the waterfall shower. My eyes should be locked on where the torrent of water runs down over her back and onto her arse, but instead my muscles lock, my fists clench, and by some fucking miracle I manage not to growl like a feral fucking beast at the sight of the bruises that cover her body.
Blood rushes past my ears as my need to find that motherfucker and end him consumes me. I’ve no idea that I make a noise, but Quinn spins, her eyes wide as she tries to cover her body with her arms. But it’s too late. I’ve already seen that that motherfucker’s had his hands on what’s mine.
The image of her running panicked in here last night hits me. She told me that I wouldn’t want her in the sexy nurse’s outfit I was joking about. This was why. The state of her body is why she tried to tell me that I wouldn’t want her.
I’ve closed the distance between us before I’ve registered that my feet have moved.
“Joe?” Her brows draw together, her body trembling as I step up to her and under the water, still wearing my boxers.
It takes every single bit of self-control I possess to push down the images that are racing through my mind as to how he could have made these marks on her perfect skin as I lift my hand to her cheek and stare deep into her eyes.
The love I feel for her mixes with the raging inferno racing through my veins, and it allows me to focus on her, on the person who deserves everything I have, not the cunt who should be rotting in a cell for every single person he’s hurt.
I drop my forehead to hers, our eye contact holding although hers is glassy with her unshed tears.
She wants to pull away from me and hide. Her body is locked up tight and she’s trying to build her wall up so I can’t climb over, but I won’t allow it to happen.
“You never have to hide from me, babe. You’re fucking beautiful.”
A tear drops as she shakes her head so slightly that if we weren’t touching I might miss it.
“H-He—” she sobs.
I take her face in my hands to stop her looking away from me. “He doesn’t change how I feel about you. He doesn’t stop this…” Taking her hand, I place it over my heart so she can feel it racing beneath my chest.
Her breath catches but she relaxes slightly, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Whatever happened, whatever comes next, we’ll deal with it together. I’m in love with you, Quinn, and nothing about your past, no matter how recent, is going to change that. I promise.”
Another sob erupts from her throat and I pull her body into mine. She winces as I wrap my arms around her and hold tight, and I suck in a breath as she presses against my wound. We’re both in pain, both broken, but neither of us attempts to move as the hot water cascades over us.
I’ve no idea how much time passes and, quite frankly, while she’s in my arms I couldn’t give a fuck. I’ve needed this since before I first opened my eyes and knew she was sitting beside my bed. Knowing she’d been taken from my arms inside that bedroom and having no idea what had happened to her was the worst thing I’ve ever experienced. Yes, her body is showing the evidence of her ordeal, but that’ll fade soon. The wounds on the inside might take a little longer to lessen, but I’ll do everything in my power to make it more bearable for her.
Eventually, Quinn moves her head. She twists slightly and reaches up on her tiptoes so she can drop a kiss to my neck.
A shudder runs through me before she lifts higher, her breath tickling my ears. Goosebumps prick my skin as I wait for her to say something.
“I keep remembering how his hands felt on my body.” My heart thunders at her admission, and my hold on her tightens. “How badly I wanted to pull my own skin off to make it stop, to make all of it stop.” She pauses, and I wonder if she has a point or is just trying to tell me what happened, but then she makes a request she knows I’d never be able to deny. “Take it away. Make me forget. Replace it with your touch.”
“Fuck.”
Dropping my hands to her hips, I force her to take a step back. My eyes skim down her body, taking in her curves and the angry welts and bruises that cover them.
My teeth grind to the point I fear I might break one at seeing the evidence of his abuse so clearly in front of me. Listening to what kind of a monster he was, the hints of things he might have done to her in the past was one thing, but this… The kind of anger this drags up is like nothing I’ve experienced before. I’ve hated my life and those around me with a passion but never to quite the level I feel for him.
“Joe?” Her voice is a soft plea as her fingertips brush my chest. It brings me back to what she’s asked of me.
Taking a small step towards her, I lift her hand and bring her wrist to my lips. I kiss the delicate bruised skin that’s been marred by the constraints he tied her with.
Her body trembles as I kiss all the way around, but she doesn’t once try to pull her arm back.
My eyes find hers. If I’m going to continue, I need to know she’s with me.
Her eyes hold fear, more than I ever wish to see within them again, but the blue I’m still so unfamiliar with also holds fire. My girl wants to fight, and I couldn’t be prouder of her, knowing that she’s taking control of what she needs to rid herself of him, of the past, of her memories.
I trail a line up her arm, kissing and licking at her sweet skin as I go. Goosebumps erupt the higher I get, and the fire in her eyes begins to win out over the fear.
I nip across one collarbone and then the other, her body trembling beneath my lips, but it’s with need, not fear.
Sliding my fingers into her hair, I tilt her head back to give me the access I need to her neck as I make my way up to her lips.
“Joe,” she moans as I suck on the sensitive skin beneath her ear. Hearing my name falling from her lips is like fuel to the fire that’s already raging inside me. My need for her is all-consuming, but this isn’t about me right now.
I kiss across her jaw before my lips find hers. As I suck her bottom one into my mouth, her eyes flutter shut.
“Look at me, babe. Let me see your beautiful eyes.” Guilt fills them as she realises what I mean, but that wasn’t why I said it. I thought she was stunning with her dark eyes; I hadn’t been prepared for what these big blue ones would do to me, but one look into them and I’m on my fucking knees for this woman. I’d give her the fucking world if I could.
Not allowing her to dwell on her choices, I slam my lips down to hers and plunge my tongue into her mouth. She wastes no time in allowing hers to join and soon she’s sucking it deeper. My cock throbs painfully behind the wet fabric of my boxers, wishing like hell it was that that was being sucked on.
My chest burns for air and I’m forced to pull back. Her breaths race out over my face and a smile twitches at my lips that I’m able to make her breathless from one kiss alone.
“Ready for more?”
She nods, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip, but the second I pinch her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers, her chin drops and her gasp of shock sounds out over the running water. I love how responsive she is to my touch. I’m pretty sure I’ll remember the night in the club when I’m on my deathbed. Feeling her coming apart beneath me while we were surrounded by all those people from my simple touch alone was hands down the hottest experience of my life. My need for her after that was off the charts, but she wasn’t one of my usual hook-ups. I knew that the minute I laid eyes on her, and I was going to do everything in my power to do things the right way.
