Loving Lydia (Atlantic Divide) (11 page)

*

He threw the car down the dirt track that lead to his house and fish-tailed it around almost in a circle. He slung open the door and ran around the other side of the car before she could even get out.

He charged toward his front door, dragging her along behind him, and when she stumbled, he stopped and swung her into his arms. They were both laughing and breathless as he made it up the steps and cleared the door into the house. Lydia giggled in his arms as he leaped up the stairs two at a time. Her hands tugged at his hair to bring his face closer so she could kiss the life out of him.

His breath heaved in and out as he hit the bed running. Throwing her down onto the cotton sheet, he launched himself on top of her at the same time.

“Christ,” he growled. His hands rough and urgent slid up her body, touching everywhere as his mouth took possession of hers. He felt the little shoulder strap on her dress snap under his desperate fingers, and his mouth followed as he tugged the top of the dress down to expose her naked breast. His mouth sucked on her nipple as one hand slid under the hem of her little black dress. His fingers searched, breath heaved. Desperation made him eager and rough.

“No.” Oblivious to the panic in her voice, the word never registered as he ravaged her body. His weight pinned her to the bed, his lips, hot and hungry, roved across her breast. He heard her breath pant in and out, felt her writhe as his fingers raced up her thigh.

“No.” He heard her breathless gasp. His fingers, seeking, slipped between her legs.

“No!” She shrieked in his ear and shoved with all her might. Her legs and arms flailed into him and threw him off balance as she screamed, her words unintelligible.

Sam hit the floor with a bone jarring shudder.

“What the fuck…!”

Fury coursed through him as he watched her scramble to the other side of the bed and fling herself off. Her foot tangled in the sheet, and she fell as she tried to jump up and rush toward the bedroom door. He heard her yelp of pain, and instinct had him leap after her, throwing himself on top of her to stop her. Stop her from screaming, because there was obviously something wrong. Stop her from flailing, as she was in danger of hurting herself. Stop her from escaping, because he didn’t understand.

Anger and confusion boiled together to give him extra strength when she struggled, to simply lie on top of her and hold her down until she ran out of steam. He stretched her arms above her head and waited her out as her slim body thrashed beneath his.

Her breath soughed in and out of her chest. Her face was covered by her hair. It tangled and pinned her head to the floor. Although she stilled, she gave out the low feral growls of a cornered animal.

“Are you done?” he hissed through his teeth. When she didn’t reply, he rapped her wrists against the floor. “I said, are … you … done?”

“Yes.” He barely heard her, but he moved off her, his own breathing uneven. He sat on the floor, his back against his bed, his knees tucked up against his chest, and he watched her curl up into a fetal position, her arms wrapped around herself.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing,” his voice trembled with fury and frustration, “but you could have said no at any stage, honey. You didn’t need to make me feel like shit just to fulfill some kind of sick fantasy of yours.” When she didn’t reply, he stood up and leaned over her. As she curled tighter, he grabbed her arms and jerked her up, putting his face close to hers.

“Go and tidy yourself up. I’m not having your sister see you like this.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“When are you not sorry, Lydia? You use that goddamn phrase to exhaustion, so when you really need to apologize, it means nothing. Go.” He shoved her toward the bathroom, and then sat on the bed to hold his head in his hands.

His hormones hadn’t yet caught up with the idea that nothing was going happen, and he bent over to relieve the pain he felt. He didn’t seem to be able to regulate his breathing. He wasn’t just in pain from his raging hormones; his chest was also squeezed tight. He didn’t know what the hell had happened; one minute he’d been ready to surge inside her and the next he’d been on his ass on the floor. He sat for what felt like an eternity listening to his own breathing trying to regulate itself.

He glanced up as the bathroom door opened. She’d washed her smudged make-up off and tied her hair back with the broken strap from her dress.

Her face wasn’t just pale, but gray, and as she checked her hair for stray strands, her eyes filled with tears. He didn’t need this right now. She’d already brought him to his knees. She was just about to make him crawl, and he had no idea why he would do that.

Anger rolled off him in waves, confusion curdled in his stomach, and all he wanted to do was get rid of her before she ripped his heart out and fed it to the wolves. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she drew in a shaky breath, and the first tear spilled down her cheek.

“He raped me.” Her voice was rusty and thick. It took a full minute for what she had said to sink in. When it did, he drew back and narrowed his eyes to take a closer look at her face.

“My husband raped me … twice.” She swiped her fingers across her cheek to brush away the tears. “I got an injunction against him after the first time, but he came back and did it again.” Her voice gained strength, but her tears continued to flow. “He was violent anyway. I was so young, I didn’t realize that he was so controlling from the moment I met him. He encouraged me to leave home, turn my back on my family. He made me believe that he offered me freedom, but he isolated me. I felt I had no friends of my own, no family to turn to. He started abusing me physically after we’d been married for about…” She drew in a shaky breath, and his heart constricted, “…about two months. I let it go on for too long. When I told him I wanted to leave, he raped me.” She stood up straight as though she waited for him to say something, anything. He remained silent, trying to comprehend what the hell had just happened.

“I haven’t had sex since then. I had therapy for a while.” She walked toward the bedroom door and glanced over her shoulder as she wandered through. “I apologize for leading you on. I had no idea I would react like that. I really, truly am sorry. I realize it was inexcusable.” He heard the muted sob as she started down the stairs, and her voice floated back up. “If you could take me back home now, please, I’d appreciate it.”

His legs wouldn’t move. He was certain that if he stood up, they wouldn’t hold him. Thick oil rolled through his queasy stomach, and his brain felt slow and sluggish, like the morning after the night before. He didn’t know what to say to her. Didn’t know where to start. All he could think about was the terror she must have felt as he pinned her to the carpet, his heavy body pressed down on hers.

She was stood in silence by the front door as she waited for him to come down the stairs, her eyes downcast. He desperately wanted to say something to make it better, but the words stuck in his throat. She wouldn’t want to hear anything right now, not from him. She’d said “no” and he’d taken no notice. He’d scared her to death.

He drew up outside the ranch house. His eyes never met hers as she let herself out of the car. He left the headlights on and watched her walk away.

Chapter 7

Kate was pale and drawn when she plunked herself down at the breakfast table, but Lydia noticed she still took the time to have a close look at her. She knew she looked just as pale and drawn as her older sister. As they stared at each other in silence, Kate narrowed her eyes.

“Good time last night?”

Lydia knew Kate wouldn’t believe her if she told her it had been. The children were preoccupied playing in the yard where Lydia could keep an eye on them from the kitchen window. There were only the two of them in the kitchen, so Lydia sat down with a weary sigh opposite her sister.

“Yes … and no. I got to play the sax.” She had enjoyed that, and it brought a small smile to her lips. At that point the date had been all it should have been and more, exciting, exhilarating.

“But…?”

“Kate … just now I can’t really talk about it.” She had no idea where to start. She stared at her older sister as tears swamped her eyes. “All I can say is … I told him about Greg raping me.”

“And the rest…?”

Lydia snorted derisively. “Don’t you think I gave him enough to think about?”

“What did he say?” Kate’s voice was sharp and defensive. Lydia knew she meant the world to Kate and she’d always fight for her. She’d probably take Sam into a nice quiet corner and sort him out. But that wasn’t what she wanted. It wasn’t his fault.

“He brought me back here.” She pushed her uneaten breakfast away and sighed heavily. “We won’t be seeing each other again.”

“What’s wrong with the man? I’ll…”

“No!” Lydia started, her voice sharp. She shook her head, softened her tone. She couldn’t let Kate defend her, not this time. “No. It’s not his fault. It was poorly done. I … left it too late to tell him.” She closed her weary eyes and rubbed her aching chest. She hadn’t wanted to go into detail, but the ball of misery in her stomach compelled her. “I only told him after things had gone too far. I mean, really too far. I had no idea I was going to react like that. No amount of counseling can help when that kind of terror takes over.” Frustrated, miserable, she stood up and paced over to the window to look across to the stables. Disgusted with herself, she shook her head.

“God, I made it sound like an excuse.” Her heart had never felt this heavy. She felt the warm security as Kate wrapped her arm around her and stood beside her in silent support. Kate moved uneasily, and Lydia studied her for a moment as she realized her own misery had made her completely ignore Kate’s situation. Her skin was still pale, her mouth drawn a little tight as though she were uncomfortable.

“Where’s Jack?”

“He went in to work early. Something about coming home this afternoon, and then he can march me around the ranch until I go into labor. Honestly, Lydia, I don’t think I can bear it much longer.”

“It’ll come when it’s ready.” Lydia rubbed Kate’s back with a soothing hand and Kate groaned with pleasure. “I’m not sure it’s going to take a march around for you to go into labor. You look very pale to me. Did you sleep last night?”

“No, not really.”

“Well, you go on back to bed. There’s nothing for you to do.”

“I think I will.” Kate hugged her again. “Lydia, it’ll all work out in the end.”

“Yeah.”

* * * *

He didn’t know what to do with himself except work. Hard, physical work. But it didn’t stop his brain from churning. He hadn’t slept a wink the night before, as a million thoughts raced through his mind. Hard work should have switched it off by now, but as he sat down on a hay bale for a few minutes to take a drink of coffee out of his flask, his gaze strayed over to the ranch house on the horizon.

He wiped the sweat from his face with his bandanna. He’d chosen to fix fences today. It took him however far he chose to go, and it was solitary. He couldn’t be with anyone right now.

He knew he was going to have to see her sometime soon, but what the hell was he supposed to say to her? He’d lay flat on top of her on the floor last night, his whole weight pressed down on her. He’d overpowered her with his superior strength until she’d gone still underneath him. He’d still been fully aroused, and she must have felt his erection as it push into her flesh. At that point he’d been confused, furious, and horny. His hormones had still wanted to tear her clothes off her, even though his mind had tried to catch up with what was happening.

He stood up and walked impatiently down the fence line, his gloves in his back pocket, both hands rubbed through his hair. Stopping, he leaned forward and rested his hands on his knees. He felt winded. His chest hurt. His eyes stung. He’d felt that way since last night, and the mid-afternoon sun didn’t help.

He knew he hadn’t hurt her physically. He was so much bigger than her. It had been easy to restrain her without hurting her. That hadn’t been a problem. It was the terror he’d put her through, mentally and emotionally. He hadn’t seen her eyes when he’d lain on top of her as her hair had covered her face, and he hadn’t been gentleman enough to move it. Maybe if he had, he would have seen then that she was destroyed. He hadn’t seen it until she’d stood in his bathroom doorway and baldly told him that she’d been raped. No detail, just facts and devastation.

He slapped his hat back on his head and carried on. He couldn’t forgive himself, so how was he ever to expect her to forgive him? He glanced across the fields again and thought that even if he did go and see her, it would be difficult to get past that big sister of hers. Because she sure as shit knew about Lydia, and he’d bet his next paycheck that she now knew about last night.

He pulled his gloves back on and tightened the fence wire across to the next post, all the time trying to figure out how to get Lydia on her own. If he went to the ranch house, her sister would protect her. If he climbed up the balcony again, she was likely to scream blue murder. He couldn’t imagine she was going to want another riding lesson off him anytime soon, so that was out of the question.

His cell phone rang and he glanced down to see who the caller was. Jack. Well hell—that could be another problem. Kate just needed to send Jack out to beat the crap out of him. They hadn’t fought in years, not since they were teenagers. Sam was pretty sure he could take him, but then his heart wasn’t in it, and he doubtless deserved a good kicking.

“Yep,” he answered.

“Sam, where the hell are you? Katie’s gone into labor. We’re on our way to the hospital now.” There was a moment’s silence. “Sam?”

“Yeah.” Sam thought for a moment. “Best of luck. Give Katie my love.” He heard the snort from her in the background; Jack had put him on loudspeaker. Oh yeah, she knew. “I’ll go over to the homestead later and stay the night until I hear from you about my new uncle status.”

He heard Kate’s curses, and he couldn’t tell if it was because she was having a contraction or because she wanted to get her hands around his neck. “Katie, I’m going to make it right.” He was quiet and serious. Moments of static passed before he heard her voice.