Loving His Forever (3 page)

Then she explains everything. Rage bubbles up in me so powerfully, it’s taking everything in me not to fucking hunt this guy down and rip him to shreds for doing this to her. You would think I’d get used to hearing these things as a police officer. It never gets easier, but this girl brings out the overpowering need in me to protect her from the world.

I stand to pace the room, running a hand through my hair before turning back to her. “Why didn’t you tell the police this?”

“I was scared and humiliated. I didn’t want anyone to know what happened to me. I just ran. I thought if I ran, I could outrun what happened to me.” Her voice is barely a whisper. It’s easy to see how hurt she is over this.

“Sydney could be in danger because of this,” I tell Kane.

“I know...” Braelyn trails off and turns to Sydney. “I’m so sorry, Sydney. I’m leaving now. Putting you in danger wasn’t my intent. I just didn’t know what else to do.” A sob escapes her as she starts toward the door.

Sydney looks at me, ready to kill, and I realize she thinks I want her gone.

“You will stay with me,” I tell Braelyn. She looks at me, shocked. Then she looks at Sydney, wondering what to do, but it’s already decided. She is staying with me.

“You will be safer with him, Brae,” Sydney tells her softly.

“Damn straight,” I agree with her as I cross my arms over my chest, smiling.

Braelyn looks ready to bolt, so I take a step toward her. “I will protect you with my life, Angel.”

She nods and then smiles at me. And just like that, I’m a fucking goner.

Braelyn

Ethan’s presence is towering and powerful. His eyes look all around me as his hand rests at the small of my back as he leads me to the passenger side of his truck. My chest feels like an elephant is sitting on it as my anxiety is taking full effect; the fear I am feeling isn’t helping anything, while the unknown looms in front of me like a blinking sign.

Ethan’s arm runs along mine as he reaches for the door handle. Gulping, I step to the door and reach inside to grab the handle to lift myself inside. I pull with all my might, but I barely manage to get my foot a few inches off the ground. My body is weak from months without proper nutrition.

My hand slips from the handle, and my body plunges to the ground. Closing my eyes, I brace myself for impact, but it doesn’t come. Hands grip my waist. I stiffen as the heat of his body collides against the back of mine. Fear flows through me as my mind wanders back to the time where hell was present day. Hell that still walks this earth.

My body trembles as I zone in and out. I don’t notice Ethan lifting and placing me gently into the truck, him running his finger over my cheekbone, or his eyes filled with fury at the pain I’m going through. My mind is in a place I haven’t been in years, bringing the memories of what happened back to the surface. The surface that was made up of fragile piece of glass, that is now cracked right down the middle.

What is the purpose of life? My life has been hell for as long as I remember. My dad hit me for as long as I could remember, reminding me daily of how I destroyed his life. If my mother had gotten an abortion and gotten rid of me, at least I wouldn’t have to suffer like this.

College gave me a little hope that life could be okay when I found Sydney. Those years were the best years of my life. Until that night… That night was the night that changed everything.

Being broken inside, being empty, is a horrible feeling. Pity is something you can’t help but feel. I was raped. I hate that word. That word destroyed me. Took my innocence, my life, everything I worked hard for.

Clamping my eyes closed, I try to bring myself out of my thoughts. I take a deep breath then let it out slowly. My hands run up and down my legs roughly as I try to stop the looming panic attack.

As my breathing goes back to normal, I sense Ethan’s presence beside me. Looking out of the corner of my eye, I see he’s got both hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles are white. His jaw is clenched, showing his fury. I tuck my hands under my legs as I try to curl into myself. To blend in. Be forgotten. I wonder, why haven’t I taken my life? Because I want to live, to overcome this, be happy, have a family and someone to love me unconditionally.

“Braelyn?” a dark timbre voice asks.

My head jerks up with wide eyes as I look over at Ethan, who is looking right at me. Biting my lip, I look out of the window to see we’re stopped.

“Don’t be afraid of me. I would never hurt you,” he all but pleads with me to understand. My head tells me different, but my instincts are telling me to trust.

I nod slowly. That’s all I can give him. Trust will have to be earned; and it won’t be easy.

He smiles at me. It’s infectious. A small smile tugs at my lips. My eyes search his, waiting for any sense of malice hidden in the depths.

“Come on, Angel, let’s get you inside,” his deep voice drawls. He opens his truck door and steps out effortlessly. My own body is sluggish and weak. My eyes follow Ethan as he walks over to my side of the truck.

His eyes meet mine through the window before he opens the door.

“I’m going to help you down, okay?” He slowly lifts his hands to my waist, his eyes searching my face for any distress. Nodding, I place my hands on his shoulders, giving him the go-ahead.

His large hands wrap around my waist. The warmth makes me want to lay my head on his shoulder and soak in his comforting presence.

My feet touch the ground seconds later. My knees give out for a second before I right myself. Ethan places his hand on the small of my back again as he leads me to the front door. Gulping, I manage to swallow down the need to bolt as my head is screaming at me to run for my life and never look back. Habits are hard to break. I’ve been running for years. Running from my life. And it’s caught back up to me.

Ethan pulls out his key and unlocks the door. He turns to the side and motions for me to enter. Looking away from him, I peer inside the house. Everything looks completely normal. No torture devices in sight.

I’m not afraid of him, per se; it’s the not knowing that’s scaring me the most. Ethan has a presence about him that screams safety and warmth. But trusting isn’t a simple feat for me. If I allow myself to trust, then I’m opening myself up to the possibility of more pain.

In some ways, life on the street was worse than what happened to me. Rape is something that happens every single day. It leaves a hole so deep inside of you, you feel like you can’t ever crawl out. People want to cause you pain and make you suffer.

Entering the house, I’m hit with how beautiful it is. I see solid cherry oak and black furniture everywhere. The amount of work he’s put into the house is obvious.

He walks in front of me. My eyes go to his back. His back and arm muscles ripple with every movement. His sleeve tattoos brighten under the light, giving him that bad boy look. His jaw has stubble all the way across his jaw, and his hair is styled to the side.

“I’ll show you to your room, Angel.” He looks over his shoulder at me. I follow closely behind, taking in his every movement as well as the house, mostly scanning for all the exits.

He walks up the stairs and leads me to a room on the right side of the house. The staircase is in the middle of the floor so you can go left or right.

He walks to a door and opens it. Peering inside, I see a bed with a black bedspread and white pillows. Other than that, the room is empty, completely bare.

“This is your room. Mine is right next to yours if you ever need anything,” he says the last part cautiously, gauging my reaction.

My eyes widen, and I look up at him, wondering if there was a double meaning to that. But his eyes are soft and full of concern. For me. It’s a weird and new feeling to see someone concerned about me after so long of having nothing or nobody.

Licking my dry lips, I clear my throat slightly and thank him with a shaky voice. “Thank you for this, Ethan. You didn’t have to do this. I’m truly grateful.”

His face softens, and a small smile tugs at his lips. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, Angel.” He tugs at the bottom of my chin before stepping away from me and heads back down the stairs. I let out a deep breath as I lean back against the wall.

Uneasiness in my body has me exhausted. Mentally and physically. I open my eyes and look over at the bed, wishing I could collapse on top of it and not wake up for years to come. To sleep away this bad dream I feel I am in.

Remembering I left my bag in the truck, I leave the room and walk toward the staircase. I look down over the railing and see Ethan walking back up the stairs, holding my bag in his hand. Twisting my hands together, I wait for him to come up to me.

He smiles kindly at me again and hands me the bag. “Get some rest. Want me to wake you for dinner?”

I bite my lip, contemplating my next answer before nodding my head. I clutch the bag to my chest and turn around slowly, putting my back to him. Dread rears its ugly head, and my body stiffens, waiting for an attack. But it doesn’t come.

Something about Ethan tells me he won’t hurt me, but years of living the way I have, those feelings of dread and fear are ingrained in me; they’ve become habits that are hard to break. Relaxing my body, I walk into my new bedroom, where I set the bag next to the door then walk over to the bed.

My finger drifts from the end of the bed to the top, feeling the softness. I peel back the blanket and slip my body under the covers. It weeps with relief after sleeping on the concrete for these past years.

Grabbing the pillow on the other side of the bed, I hold it to me, taking in the little comfort it can give.
Your world just changed on its head, Braelyn. Three days ago, you were sleeping on the cold concrete. The man who hurt you beyond repair came after you. Now you’re in a bed. The softest bed you’ve ever felt. After you’ve been dealt such a shitty hand in life
. In this moment, I have hope. Hope that everything will be okay. I’m tired of being scared.

I drift off into a deep sleep. For the first time in years, I rest.

~*~

Hands touch my shoulders. My eyes fly open and I immediately push the hands away. Jumping off the bed, I hurry to the corner of the room, my heart beating out of my chest, ready to fight for my life. My breathing is ragged trying to push oxygen through my deprived lungs.

My eyes shoot around the room, trying to find whoever is going to hurt me. Then they rest on him. Ethan. He slowly walks around the side of the bed, his hands clenched at his sides.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Braelyn. I shouldn’t have woken you like that,” he grinds out, mad at himself. He roughly runs a hand over his face.

“I’m okay. It’s a habit,” I tell him shakily. I grab the door handle and pull myself back up to a standing position.

“You up for some food?”

My belly growls loudly, giving him the answer he needs. He grins and says, “Well, all right then.”

I look down at my feet as my cheeks burn with embarrassment. Warm fingers gently touch my chin. I jerk back slightly then look up at Ethan. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart.” His deep southern drawl is soothing with his warm feather like fingers still on my chin.

He moves his hand to my forearm, trailing his fingers down my arm. Goosebumps break out at the contact. His hand slips into mine, while his eyes never leave mine, letting me know he won’t hurt me.

I had hugged Sydney, but male contact is something different all together. It stems from my father hitting me and everything else that followed. All the pain I’ve experienced has been inflicted by men’s hands.

Ethan tugs at my hand and leads me down to the kitchen. I trail behind, taking in his house. It’s so warm. Warmth is something I missed. No matter how warm it is at night, the cold always manages to seep in.

Entering the kitchen, Ethan pulls me over to a barstool. I pull it out and climb up onto the seat. Ethan goes over to the stove and lifts two huge steaks. The kind that are bigger than my head. My eyes widen.
How will I eat that?
Shaking my head, I watch as he pulls two baked potatoes out of the oven and sets one on each plate.

“What do you want on your potato?” he asks over his shoulder.

“The works is fine. Thank you,” I tell him easily and without an ounce of fear.

Ethan grabs a knife and starts cutting up a steak.
I really hope that’s not mine.
After a minute or so, he finishes and carries the plate of cut-up steak to me.
It was for me.

“Here you go, Angel.” He sets the plate down, and now I feel really bad he did all of this for me.

“Ethan, thank you for everything. You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to...” I trail off uneasily. I hate feeling like a burden.

“No, I want you here.” He smiles, showing his dimple. Then it hits me how hot he is. On a scale of one to ten, he’s a thousand. My cheeks burn as he catches me staring at him. He chuckles quietly under his breath.

Acting like that gives a man the wrong idea.
My back stiffens, making me very aware of Ethan’s movements.

I grab my fork and take a bite of steak. While I chew, my eyes flutter closed at the taste. I want to savor every single bite because you never know when this will be your last meal.