All Good Things Absolved (13 page)

His hands shook as he clenched his fists at his side. "The only way my father ever showed me any damned respect was when I had you on my fucking arm. Getting close to you was the only thing he ever wanted me to do. It was the only thing he ever wanted from me. And I tried. I fucking tried to love you but you never fucking let me." His voice raised an octave as his anger peaked. I was terrified. Fear pounded in my heart and sweat beaded at my hairline as I tried to plot an escape. What the hell was I going to do? I kept making him angry.

Bryce continued. "What's so good about Jace Rush, huh? How do you love him when all you were toward me was a cold bitch incapable of feeling?" His voice was shaky and pained. "What the fuck was wrong with me? Why wasn't I good enough for you?"

His words struck a painful chord in my heart. He was wounded. Beneath all his pent up hatred there was pain and I was the one who'd caused it. I was the one who made him hurt and I couldn't stand the thought. Surely he knew we weren't meant to be together. Surely he knew he needed help?

"Bryce, I'm so sorry,"

"Don't fucking apologize." He screamed so loud the vein in his forehead was protruding through the red of his oxygen-deprived skin. "You knew what you were doing?"

I shook my head. "No,"

"It doesn't matter now," He laughed. "Because I'm the one on top this time. I know everything about you and your little relationship with Jace and I knew it wouldn't last. I vowed to myself I would ensure it didn't last. You don't deserve the respect of my father. You don't deserve to be talked about with pride. You're nothing but a whore."

My palm burned to slap him hard but that action required my getting close enough to him to slap him and I couldn't bring myself to do that. When my anger fell away to realization, I felt my breakfast curdle in my stomach. "It's been you the whole time."

He grinned. "I think you're finally using that brain of yours."

"You've been writing the letters." I whispered. "This whole time...it's been you."

"Slow isn't cute on you." Bryce snapped. "Of course it was me, who else knows you personally? Who else deserves you?" He waited but I didn't say a word. I couldn't speak. "That's right, Liv. No one deserves you but me. I was the one who put in years next to you."

When I finally got my bearings, I spoke. "You need help, Bryce. You're sick. Mentally." I felt my stomach roll when he took a step toward me and I fought my instinct to run. If I ran I knew he would chase me and I couldn't handle the thought of what would happen when he caught me. "Let me help you. Please."

Bryce's face paled and his eyes hardened. I knew he was angry. I could literally feel tension rolling from his person and I tried to swallow my fear. It was hard. My throat was dry. "I don't need help, Olivia. I need you and I'm going to take you. It's my right. I should have taken you a long time ago. If I did, we might not be standing here right now. You might have accepted me and the life we were meant to live." He sighed and shook his head. I was frozen - completely paralyzed by fear and abhorrence. I couldn't have run if he'd brought out a gun. I couldn't move. "You were mine first and you're mine to take now."

I frowned. White-hot terror swept through my body as I realized what he was saying. He was going to rape me. He was going to take what he'd always wanted me to give him. The thought was worse than death and without thinking, my body acted. I lunged for the door as fast as I could. My legs felt numb and my feet felt as though they were weighted to the floor. I couldn't move fast enough to appease my terror and as a warm hand grabbed my arm, I screamed. I screamed so loud I was certain the heavens could hear me. I prayed the heavens heard me. I prayed someone heard me.

Bryce's hand shot out and he slapped me hard across the face, silencing my sound as quickly as it ripped through the space. My skin stung as though it had been set to fire. I looked into Bryce's face and my stomach dropped. His eyes were dark - almost black. They were unseeing and so filled with raged loathing I was rendered hopeless. What was he going to do with me? I had to get away from him or he was going to kill both me and my baby. I knew it like I knew the sun would rise in the morning. I had to get away from him. I had to fight. For my child.

Without warning, Bryce's hands grasped my waist and my feet lifted off the floor. My struggle was moot as I fell over the back of the couch before rolling onto the cushions to then propel myself onto my feet. My hands were fisted and I was ready for a fight. I knew how to fight. I could do this. I could fight him. But I knew Bryce knew how to fight as well. And he was so much bigger then me.

I pushed the thoughts from my mind. I needed confidence. Confidence would save me.

Bryce laughed as his eyes took in my stance. "You're going to fight me?"

"I'm not going to lie back and take it." I spat the words.

Before I could blink, Bryce was there. With a fisted hand he struck my face for the second time. I tasted blood. The thought was short lived as I was forced to look up at him. My hair was fisted in his hand and he was holding my face up to him. I was on my knees and I wanted to cry. Hot tears stung my eyes and I blinked rapidly to push them back. I couldn't cry in front of him. I couldn't give him such a satisfaction as I looked up at him from my knees. This position was degrading and his power over me was terrifying. In this moment, I knew what true unaltered hatred was.

"You're fucking despicable." I spat the words at him with raw violence. And, I knew they lashed him as well as a whip. He flinched.

There was no warning for what happened next. His hand moved from my hair in the same moment his knee shot forward into my face. His kneecap connected with my right cheekbone in a crunching sound before he booted me in the stomach. I fell back onto the plush carpet and clutched my stomach as hot pain seared through my body. I wanted to roll onto my side and curl up in the fetal position - I wanted to protect the small life growing in my womb from the monster standing over me, but I couldn't. I couldn't move without drawing attention to my need to protect my stomach and the last thing I wanted Bryce knowing was that I was pregnant. I couldn't imagine what he would do to my baby. I couldn't imagine what I would do to him if he harmed my child. I would kill him. It was that simple.

"You see how easy it could be if you just accepted me?" Bryce lowered himself to his knees between my legs. His hands were warm and moist as he ran them up my thighs beneath the fabric of my dress. I felt sick and this time when the need to cry surfaced, tears spilled from the corners of my eyes. I felt helpless. Completely helpless. Dirty. And I hated him.

"Please don't do this." I begged. "You don't want to do this."

"Don't tell me what I do and don't want to do, Olivia." He growled. A rough hand tore the fabric from over my breast and he lowered his head to my flesh. There was no soft skin or whispered kiss, but instead there was teeth. He bit my breast hard and I knew by the piercing pain he drew blood. He was serious. There was no doubt in my mind I wouldn't live to see another sunrise if I didn't fight him now. There was no doubt I wouldn't live to birth my child if I didn't fight him and win.

The thought set a flame in the pit of my stomach. It was a determination to live like no other I'd ever felt before. And I knew it was because of the life I was carrying within me. It was the love only a mother knows for her child and it raised above all fear and loathing with an air of undefeatable determination.

I turned my head to the side and my eyes caught sight of a heavy elephant ornament Trisha had sitting at the end of her couch. It was within arms reach. The trunk lifted to the roof - a sign of good luck Trisha had told me on countless occasions. This myth would prove itself today - because the elephant was my only chance. And I was taking it.

Bryce was too busy assaulting my flesh to notice my hand snaking closer to the ornament and when I finally grasped hold of the trunk with an ironclad grip, glee soared through my body, spreading like wild fire.

Bryce leaned up to reach for the zipper of his jeans and I took my shot. With all the force I could muster, I swung the heavy statue into the side of his head. Bryce toppled to the side, rolling to lay beside me as he moaned and swore. I hadn't knocked him unconscious like I'd hoped, but I bought myself time. I lunged upright and ran for the door, leaving my purse where I'd dropped it on the floor after his first attack. I had to get away from him and I knew I didn't have a lot of time. With a longing gaze at the elevator, I bolted for the stairs.

"Help!" I screamed. Someone had to hear me. God damn it! Someone had to hear me.

I opened the door into the stairway and started running. If I could only get to the lobby I would be safe. I would be safe. I chanted the mantra in my head repeatedly as I ran down the steps. All the while my heart was racing. When I'd gotten three floors down, I heard the door open and I knew Bryce was on my trail.

"Help me!" I screamed again and this time, a sob followed. I was desperate. I was completely exhausted and desperate.

"Shut the fuck up, Olivia." Bryce growled. He was so close behind me. I could almost feel him.

"Stop this, Bryce." I pleaded as I continued running down the steps. My toe caught on the hem of my maxi dress and I felt myself freefalling before I hit the jagged steps. My body tumbled down the remaining steps before I rolled onto the landing. I couldn't have guessed which floor we were on. My entire body ached and I didn't know if I had much fight left in me but I didn't have a choice.

Bryce grabbed my hair before hauling me up the wall. I screamed out in pain only to earn a sharp elbow in my ribs, forcing the air from my lungs. Holy shit.

"I said shut up, Olivia." His teeth were clenched.

His hand fumbled for the zipper of his pants and I knew what was coming. I knew this was it and I just cried as he held my head against the wall. The only peace I could offer myself or the little ember of life within me was that it would all be over soon.

Chapter 12

"Gabe?" I answered on the first ring.

"Is Olivia coming?" Gabe asked gruffly. "Trisha is getting impatient. She thinks they're going to miss their reservations."

Ice filled my veins. "Olivia went to meet Trisha at her apartment a half hour ago."

"I'll be right up." Gabe said before the line went dead. Dread pumped through my person as I my mind surged on overdrive. If something happened to her...

I couldn't even think about that. I speed dialed the lobby. "Kate speaking."

"It's Jace Rush. Have there been any noise complaints?"

"Yes, I've called the,"

"Which floor?"

"Floor seventeen to twenty three, Mr. Rush."

I didn't say anything else as I hung up. It was the perk of owning the building. I took the elevator to the eighteenth floor. Trisha lived on the twenty-fourth floor and I figured if something happened to Olivia and someone had her, she would run down. I fucking hoped I was right - because if someone had her I didn't have a lot of time.

The elevator stopped and the doors rolled open. Not nearly fast enough to satisfy my thundering heart. I was a mess. I couldn't stop thinking about what she might be going through. I couldn't stop my mind from running through every gruesome image of what her stalker could do with her once he caught her. It filled me with angry revulsion.

I scanned the hall and found it was void of activity. There was no one here. I paused to listen and heard nothing. Fear claimed my heart and adrenaline pumped through my system as I took off for the stairs.

***

I opened my eyes in time to see Jace's fist connect with Bryce's temple. His hand instantly went slack in my hair as he crumpled to the ground. Apparently after being hit once by a heavy ornament, he wasn't much of a challenge. But Jace didn't see it that way. His fist continued to pound into Bryce's face until I could see nothing but red. His hand was bloody and I was certain Bryce's nose was broken. As soon as Bryce wasn't holding me up, I felt my knees give out and I crumpled to the floor. There was a killer pain in my stomach and I was exhausted.

There was a part of me that wanted to beg Jace to stop his attack, but I couldn't. I hoped he killed Bryce. I didn't want him to live.

"Jace stop." A commanding voice claimed the space and I watched through heavy eyes as Gabe pulled Jace from Bryce's limp body.

"He was," Jace's voice was shanking.

"I know." Gabe soothed. "Take care of Olivia."

Jace's eyes instantly swiveled to me, and the blue ignited with a new kind of rage. He fell to his knees beside me, pulling me into his lap. "Angel," his voice croaked. "Tell me you're okay."

I smiled as I breathed in his scent. We were safe. Me and my baby were safe now. "I love you."

"Fuck, Olivia." He moaned. "Tell me you're okay."

"I fought, Jace." I smiled. "I'm okay."

"Can you stand?"

I nodded and he instantly pulled me up in his arms.

"Jace," Gabe's voice was eerily hard and I turned to look back at him. He was kneeling on the ground. Bryce was siting against the wall, dozing in and out of consciousness. His hands were cuffed. Slowly, Gabe stood. "She needs an ambulance."

I shook my head. "I'm just tired and sore, Gabe. I'll be fine."

"Are you pregnant, Olivia?" Gabe asked seriously. His voice was commanding and Jace instantly stiffened at my side. Gabe took that as an answer and he instantly drew his phone from his pocket. "I need an ambulance," he rattled off the address before shoving his phone into his pocket.

I looked at Jace who hadn't said a word since Gabe asked the question and my heart froze. It literally felt as though it was coated in ice. Jace was pale and his blue eyes were wide. His lips were parted but he wasn't breathing. He was just as frozen as I felt. And he was looking at my feet. Slowly, I looked down.

My world stopped spinning. My feet were streaked with blood that had run down my legs. Now that I was looking at it, I could feel the blood trickling ever so slowly over the inside of my thighs. The feeling was worse than a thousand beatings because I knew what it meant. I had either lost - or was losing my baby.