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Eden

I stared at him. He sighed.

“This wasn’t how I envisioned this conversation going.” Reaching out, he took my wine glass out of my fingers, and set it down beside his. “I know you’ve been running for a long time, looking over your shoulder waiting for him to catch up to you. And it’s natural at this point for you to question your instincts whenever anyone glances in your direction. But, from experience, if your gut says there’s a problem ...” He canted his head. “Well, then there’s usually a problem. Don’t discount the instincts you’ve honed over the time you’ve been hiding from him. You have developed a heightened sense of awareness of everything around you.”

“Then why did I end up in the trunk of a car?” The words burst out of me before I even considered them.

“I have my suspicions, but I need to speak to Knight first.”

“You’re not going to tell me what they are?”

“I think you’ve had enough stress for one day, don’t you?”

“I’m not a child. I deserve to know what you know.”

“Even if I don’t have any proof?” He quirked an eyebrow. “Eden, you trusted me enough to sign a contract and marry me. Trust me on this as well. You’ve hired me to change your life. I can’t do that if you don’t do the things I need you to do.”

“It was just a mall security guard.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” Or as sure as I could be.

He stared at me for a moment longer, holding my gaze, and then he nodded. “Okay. It’s too early to eat unless you’re hungry now?” I shook my head. “Why don’t you follow Magdalena’s plan? Go take a soak in the tub, relax for a while. Watch a movie, read a book, whatever you want to do.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I have a few more calls to make. If you still wish to make dinner tonight, how about we aim for seven? If not, we can still order in.”

There was nothing unreasonable about his suggestion and I found myself nodding along with his words. A soak did sound good. My arms and legs were aching from all the walking around. And I’d picked up some luxury bubble bath, at Magdalena’s insistence. It would be silly to buy it and not use it.

He rose to his feet and caught my hand. When I stood, he handed me my wine glass. “Go and relax.”

***

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, taking a bath did relax me, and I almost floated back downstairs on a cloud of passionfruit, wearing the new pajamas I’d picked up. In the kitchen, I found an apron, looped it over my head and tied it around my waist. Next, I found the tomatoes, onions, and peppers, then rummaged through the drawers until I found a cutting board. I selected a knife from the block and got to work preparing dinner.

The open wine bottle was on the counter, so I topped up my glass, balanced the cell Bishop had given me against the side of it and put on some music. I was singing along to ‘Gold and Bones’ by Friday Pilot’s Club and dancing on the spot when a voice intruded and made me scream.

“It’s not every day I get to walk into my kitchen and find a redhead shaking her ass while wielding a knife so professionally.”

The knife in question clattered to the cutting board and I spun around, one hand pressed against my chest. My heart was racing, and there was a hot burn in my cheeks.

“How long have you been standing there?”

Bishop pushed away from the doorframe and sauntered deeper into the room. “Long enough to wonder whether you’ve ever taken professional singing lessons.”

The heat in my cheeks burned hotter. “No.”

“I’m surprised. You have amazing range.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Are you mocking me?”

He paused in the middle of pouring the last of the wine into his glass. “Not at all. You have an incredible voice.”

“Oh … umm …” I turned back to the cutting board and focused on the peppers I’d been cutting.

The music cut off abruptly and a tanned hand moved into my line of sight to take the knife from me.

“Let me guess, Dulvaney criticized your singing. Told you to stop, that you were terrible, and …” His hands curved over my shoulders and turned me to face him. “Maybe he said you were scaring small children or making his ears bleed. And eventually you stopped. Stopped singing, stopped talking, stopped being heard. Because it was easier, safer .”

I reached back to grip the countertop and lifted my head to meet his watchful gaze. “Is this part of your new life adjustment plan?” I cleared my voice, hating the way it trembled.

“Maybe. Or I’m just trying to figure you out.” He placed the knife beside the half-cut pepper. “You’re a mess of contradictions, Eden. In all the ways I expect you to be broken, you’re not. The damage he did to you was far more subtle than visible bruises and broken bones. You hide it well. So well, I almost missed it.” He lifted a hand and curled a lock of my hair around one finger. “But I see it now.”

“I don’t … I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nerves dried my lips, and I licked them.

“You don’t?” His gaze slid from mine to the hair wrapped around his finger. “Then allow me to explain it to you.” He frowned, released the curl, and dropped his hand. “The abuse didn’t start when he first hit you. It’d been going on from the day you started dating him. You just didn’t realize it. It was verbal and mental. Subtle and ongoing. A criticism here, a comment there. Until he had molded you into behaving in a certain way. You told me that over time you lost contact with friends. Why do you think that was? Did they start falling away before the first time he raised a hand to you? Do you remember?”