Page 228 of Love Me in the Dark

I raised an eyebrow and pointed to the chair. “Watch yourself, pup.”

Her cheeks flamed before me, but I had no delusions it was from embarrassment. She was getting ramped up for an argument, but her common sense must have kicked in, because she sank back into the seat.

“Jason Ritters was a fucking prick and a half, when I saw him pawing at you—” I paused. Remembering that asshole trying to get her shirt off behind the fish cleaning shed made my blood heat even now, eleven years later. But who the fuck was I to play judge and jury now? Hell, I hadn’t let her have a piece of clothing since she arrived. I’d made her piss outside on the grass!

No, I had no moral podium to stand behind.

“When you caught him trying to push me further than I wanted, you shoved him away. And when he said those horrible things about me, you punched him right in the nose.” She jabbed her finger into the table as she made her points. “You kept him from me the rest of the summer.”

And I paid a hefty price for it, too. Jason Ritters’ father owned the construction company my father worked at as a foreman. A week after camp was over, my dad was out of a job and had been blackballed by the other crews in town. Dad had to take a job two counties over, which meant we had to pick up and move. It was on that drive, pulling the U-Haul behind his truck with my mom, that they were struck by a semi, shoving them off the road and flipping them into a ditch. I’d been driving my car two miles behind them. I was told I had been lucky.

I still didn’t believe that.

“Jason got the last laugh on me, don’t worry. I didn’t beat him.” I took a heavy sip of my coffee, enjoying the subtle burn of the whiskey as it slid down my throat.

“I know.” She lowered her gaze. “I heard what his dad did.”

“You did?”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “My sister was dating Jason’s older brother. They got married a year later and have four little boys now.”

“So, you and Jason are related now.” A twist in my chest caught me off guard. Knowing she’d been around him all these years shouldn’t have affected me in the least. But it sure as fuck did.

“Sort of. He’s been a thorn in my side for years. He says he’s the reason my marriage didn’t work. Says it was because deep down I wanted him.”

“He’s still chasing you?” Did the asshole not take a hint? After all these years, still trying to get under her skirt. He’d probably blow a blood vessel if he knew what I’d done to her.

“He doesn’t take no for an answer easily.” She sat up straighter. “Just like back then.”

“He was a prick.”

“And you weren’t. But now…” She let her words trail off, like I should fill in the blanks. I already knew damn well what I was. A survivor.

“So, what do you think happens now, Gabby? You think because you remember the scrawny River Scout working on his veterinarian patch all those years ago, I’m going to just let you go? Fuck myself in the process? Because that’s not the guy I am now.” I stalked to the table, leaving my drink behind. “The guy I am now wants to drag your pretty ass back out into the backyard and force you on your knees. I want to play fetch with you, make you run the yard and bring me back the little ball I keep for my puppies. And once you’re all tired and worn out, I want to drag you back to bed and fuck you senseless until we both pass out in a sweaty heap.” I pressed one hand on the table and the other on the back of her chair. “That’s the guy I am now.”

She reached up and gently cupped my cheek. “I heard you helping that puppy. You’re not that guy all the time.”

I jerked back from her touch. “Go back to your crate.” I snapped my fingers and pointed toward the hall. “Now.”

Sad eyes met mine, but she didn’t argue. She got up from the chair and walked down the hall. Walked. On her feet. I shouldn’t have let that happen. I should have shoved her back to the ground.

But my cheek stung from where she touched me, leaving me too dazed to remember my own damn rules.

10

Gabby

David leftme in the crate the rest of the morning after our conversation. And he only spoke sparingly with me for two days following that. He didn’t make me sleep in the crate, but he kept me bound to his bed and he didn’t come in until I was already asleep.

During the day, he walked me around his back yard on a leash or let me watch television with him in the living room so long as I stayed on the pillow at his feet. Every approach I tried to get him talking again was met with a command to stay quiet or to lie down.

The longer this went on, the more distant I felt from him. I began looking forward to watching TV with him because he would eventually begin stroking my hair. It was that little bit of connection that kept me from trying to get away. If my attempt failed again, he’d surely keep me locked in that crate.

I wasn’t sure how many days I had left before whoever was supposed to pick me up was coming, but I knew my time was running out.

“Gabby.” David walked into the kitchen where I was eating my lunch—a ham sandwich with a small fistful of Cheetos.

I looked up from my sandwich. He held a bright blue plastic ring in his hand and my stomach fell. I’d been waiting for him to bring it up again but had hoped he would have been happy with what we’d already been doing.