The Devastatingly Beautiful Series (26 page)

11

Tatum

I step out in the hall and lean against the wall. Holy shit. If the bruises on her face weren’t enough of an indicator that he hit her, the flinch sure as shit was. I know nothing about battered women, but it looks like I need to learn. And quick. If that didn’t get my blood boiling enough, which believe me, I feel like I’m about to erupt with anger at that asshole, she flinched from me! ME! The man that has spent the last two months doing nothing but search for her, just made the women of his dreams flinch simply by reaching out gently to touch her. Fuck!

Eddie comes down the hall with a cup of something that looks like coffee. One look at me and he shakes his head.

“Here man, you need this more than me,” he says as he hands me the mug. “You talk to her?”

I grunt my response, appreciative for the warm mug of incredibly caffeinated coffee.

“Dude, it may not be my place, but just be careful. I know how much you love her, but she’s not the women you remember. She has more fucking battle wounds now than before. Inside and out. Remember that, and be patient. But most of all, no matter how much she defies you… make her talk. Somehow, someway, make her empty all of those emotions out. I know all too well what happens when those feelings are bottled up for too long.” He leans against the wall opposite from me, eyes cast down at the floor.

“She flinched from me. It freaked me out so I left the room to grab a drink. I had to get out of there. I don’t want her to be scared of me, but hell, I felt like I was doing something wrong and all I wanted to do was touch her.”

Eddie’s quiet for a minute. After staring at his shoes silently for what seems like hours, he stands to return to his room and adds the only advice I need to hear.

“Like I said. You need to be patient. Good luck, Tatum. I’ll see you in the morning.” He disappears into his room. The man has few words, but when he chooses to use them they are powerful as fuck.

Patience. That shouldn’t be too hard, right?

I chose that time to head back in. I felt like I’m treading on very thin ice when it comes to being around her. All my body wants to do is scoop her up and hold her. I want to take all of her pain and make it mine. The woman is the final piece in my puzzle, without her I’m unfinished. I’m incomplete. I need to heal her.

As the door shuts I notice three things. The lights are all on. There’s no Molly in the bed anymore. And the shower is running. Well shit, if patience is supposed to be something that I’m practicing, then this is one hell of a way to start. For two months, every shower I took reminded me of her. Every shower I would think about reminded me of the times we shared together. Showering together had become a daily habit in our short time together, something that I looked forward to immensely. When she was gone, showers were torture. Now we are alone in a hotel room together after all this time, I know she’s in there, naked, fragile… but I can’t fucking be there with her. I get it. I do, I know I need to give her space, but this fucking sucks!

Deciding to bide my time staring at the TV, I turn on the news and sit on the oversized chair. I’m only half listening when the Delany name grabs my attention fully.

“Robert Delany Jr., son of Robert Delany Sr, went missing today, after reports of a feud between father and son in the Delany offices just mere days ago. Reports state Mr. Delany was involved in the kidnapping of Molly Ward, 29, of Baden, Illinois. The Delany family has no comment on the current situation. There are no current suspects or leads in this case. We will update you with more information as we receive it.”

Holy shit
.

Before I can turn the TV off, the door between our room and Eddie’s room opens. He’s white as a ghost, waiting for me to speak.

“It wasn’t me, Eddie. I didn’t kill him, and I didn’t take him. As much as I wanted to, that fucker was still breathing when I left.”

“Shit. That’s bad. Her name is out there now. This much publicity is the last thing she needs right now. Fuck!” He slams his fist against the door frame just as the bathroom door opens.

Molly stands there, hair wrapped in one towel and another wrapped around her body. Her eyes are wide with fear as she takes in Eddie’s display. She doesn’t move from the doorway, she doesn’t speak a word. She just stands there, wheels turning, breathing heavy. I take the moment to catalogue everything about her. She’s lost weight, some of the curves I had become so familiar with were gone. Nothing a few good healthy meals won’t fix. There are dark circles under her eyes now, and her skin has paled a few shades in the last two months. The bruises start on her face and didn’t stop until her shins. I’m sure I’ll find more beneath the towel, but with Eddie here, that’s the last thing I plan on doing. Really, I’m sure it’ll be a very long time until she lets me under that towel. Her hair is cut short, which I half expected from the clippings we received, but it’s actually very flattering on her. God, even with the hell she’s been through, she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

“Oh my God I’m so sorry, Molly. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Eddie’s eyes are wide and filled with regret.

“You were mad, I get it. I don’t have to like it, but I get it,” she says, trying to sound strong.

“It’s no excuse. I don’t want you to feel like we’re… I’m… a danger to you. That never should have happened. I’m sorry.” He looks at me, then at Molly and shakes his head. “I’ll leave you and Tatum alone now. If you want I can run out and grab you a new set of clothes…”

“Stop Eddie. She’s fine, I have stuff for her.” I get a quizzical look from both of them before Eddie nods and returns to his room. Not before apologizing to her a few more times, though.

Eddie knows she’s off limits, so the constant apologizing isn’t a way of trying to get to her. He doesn’t do women like Molly. I mean, he does women… and plenty of them… but not the settling down type. He’s a flavor of the day kind of guy.

Molly smiles sweetly before Eddie returns to his room.

Now it’s time to remind her that I’m not the bad guy. It’s time to remind her who she fell in love with.

Molly

The TV isn’t on loud, but I hear every word of it through the thin bathroom door. He’s gone? I feel like I should be more relieved, but all I feel is… empty. I want so badly to be happy that he’s no longer able to hurt me, but happy isn’t an emotion that I can conjure up right now. Maybe it’s because I’m looking in the mirror and the woman looking back at me isn’t the woman I want to be. This isn’t right. It isn’t fair. He got away so easy. Disappearing is the pussy way out. If I had my way I would kill him slowly, making him suffer. I might still if I ever get my hands on him. God, listen to myself! Who is this woman? The old Molly didn’t think that way. Then again, the old Molly wasn’t covered from head to toe in bruises from a man that kidnapped her. The old Molly would be out there right now, stripping off the towel for the man she loves, showing him just how much she missed him. Not that I don’t want to do that, I just don’t have that confidence anymore.

God I miss Tatum. I want so badly for him to hold me again, to comfort me. I want him back, but I fucking flinched! Maybe I can be the woman I used to be if I tried hard enough. Maybe I can have that confidence back that Rob stole from me. I’ll never know if I don’t try, right? All I have to do is walk into the room, wearing only my towel, and if I see the hunger in his eyes that he used to wear every time he looked at me, I’ll know. I’ll know he still wants me. I’ll know he still needs me. I’ll know he’s still mine.

What I didn’t expect when I open the door, though, is Eddie to be right across from me. He’s pissed, too. So pissed, he punches the wall and I’m pretty sure he dents it. As soon as he does it he realizes I’m was there and the look on his face is priceless. I’m broken, but I’m not stupid. He would never hurt a fly. Sure the tattoos and buzzed hair make him look like danger on two legs, but Eddie is harmless. I almost laughed at him, but I held it in. He would never hit me. I trust him. No, I know Eddie meant nothing by it. It surprised me, sure, but I’m more surprised that I’m not only standing in front of Tatum, covered in bruises in a body that isn’t really mine anymore, but that an almost stranger is seeing the same thing.

After apologizing profusely, Eddie retreats quickly to his room and locks the door behind him. I haven’t moved from the doorway of the bathroom, and I have yet to look at Tatum. I can feel his eyes on me, drinking me in, but I’m too afraid to see the emotion in those eyes. I won’t be able to take it if he’s disgusted with my body. I need him to want me. If I want to move on from the nightmare that was my life for the last two months, I need him to need me. More than anything, though, I need to believe he does.

I hear him stand from the chair he’s sitting in. He walks over to me, stopping a few feet away. When I finally chance a glance at him, I lose my breath. The amount of love in his eyes is evident in the unshed tears welling up under his eyelids. I can tell he’s afraid to touch me, afraid to spook me again, so I do the only thing I know to do. The only thing I’ve wanted to do since the day I was taken. I curl into him, wrapping my arms around his waist, and don’t let go. Words don’t have to be spoken right now. This is it. This is what I need.

His body finally relaxes after he realizes I’m not letting go, and his arms come around me. One hand cradling the back of my head, one hand wrapped around my back, he holds on for dear life. I feel the wetness from his tears land on my shoulder blade and I lose it.

Crying so hard now my body is shaking, I don’t want to let go. This is the reunion I wanted, not a stupid flinch. This is what should have happened when he reached for me earlier. This is real enough to make me believe that we can possibly be together, even after all of the evil in the world descended upon us. He doesn’t let me go and I don’t try to retreat. I have him now, this is us, doing this together. I can get through this if he is here with me.

12

Tatum

I don’t know how long we stand there. I’ve never felt so emotionally connected to another human being in my life. At one point she cries so hard she hiccups into my shirt, but I never let go. Now that I have her back I never want to let go.

Just moments ago the rage I felt boiling inside was almost to the point of no return. I thought I was going to need to leave the room to calm down after seeing all of the bruises, but then she grabbed onto me. She didn’t shy away, she wasn’t scared of me. The anger melted away and in its place formed a love I never knew possible. Sure, I’m still pissed at the situation, and one I find out where that asshole is hiding I’ll beat him to death myself. Fact is, right now, all I can really think about is her being here with me.

That, and how amazing her body feels pressed against me. It’s been so long since I’ve been able to feel her, to hold her, that I am having a hard time thinking of doing anything else but laying her out of the bed and enjoying her for the first time in months. Before those thoughts start to stir more parts of my body than my brain, I choose to back away and change the subject. Although I’m more than ready to be with her again, she isn’t ready yet.

“So, I have clothes for you,” I tell her as I inch back, making sure to keep my hands on her. I can’t bring myself to break contact yet.

“I heard that earlier. Why?” She looks at me with eyes that are trying their hardest to hide how much she hurts. How much she doesn’t want to talk, but wants to know everything. Shit. I didn’t think this would turn into a ‘what has Tatum been up to all these weeks’ conversation. I guess it has to happen eventually, though.

I sigh and slide my hand down her arm to her hand. Grabbing her hand gently, I guide her over to the chair so she can sit and listen to the hardest story I’ll ever have to tell her. Hell, I’d go back to the day I told her about my son ten times if it meant not having to explain to her why I didn’t get to her sooner. Had I been more on top of it, I could have had her sooner. I could have saved her sooner. Maybe she wouldn’t have been so roughed up had I gotten there sooner, and not a day will go by in my life that I won’t beat myself up over that simple fact. I failed her. Now I need her to forgive me.

“Molly, when you went missing, I kind of lost it.” I start. She’s watching me intently, curled up on the sofa chair with a blanket now covering her towel-covered body. Months ago I’d have found it completely normal for her to be in a towel around me, but I can’t help but feel like she’s fighting the urge to hide her body from me with the blanket, which makes me want to kill Robert Delany more. “I threatened anyone who came to the door, I drank more than I should have, and I was not a pleasant person to be around. It took Eddie showing up on our doorstep one night when I was shitfaced to pull me out of it. I wasn’t a good man to you. I should have been looking, but I was so angry I didn’t know the right way to go about finding you.” It’s really fucking hard to admit you were wrong, especially when you’re a Savage. I push on, not letting her talk for fear that I won’t get my story out.

“Once I finally got my shit together it had been a week. Sure I’d looked in town, and initially I went out to the wedding site, but no one knew anything. Your phone was on the side of the road and I had no leads.” The more I talk the more tense she gets. I’m not sure if I should keep going, but I do. Things need to be said, apologies need to be made, and I need to her to know I will never fail her again.

“My father immediately got involved, pulling every string he could to find you, but it wasn’t enough. Then the boxes started. A shirt, socks, your shoes. Every week I’d get a new piece of clothing from that sick bastard, covered in your blood. He even sent your fucking hair.”

She gasps and her hand came up to her mouth. Her eyes go wide, but she doesn’t make a sound. Shit, I don’t want her to relive this. I don’t want to be the one that makes her remember all of the details. Eddie’s words keep ringing through my mind, though, so I push on.

“I started getting tips on places you may be. I traveled to eight different cities, each time I thought I was going to find you. The first seven times I came home without you. Every time I came home to an empty house I lost a little more faith that I’d ever see you again. I didn’t give up, though. Every time I left I had a change of clothes packed for you… just in case. So… that’s why I have clothes for you. I never gave up, Molly. I’m sorry it took me so long. I’m sorry I left you at the wedding in the first place. I’m so sorry.”

She looks at me for a moment, silent tears streaming down her face. I sit across from her, elbows on my knees, supporting myself in the chair. If she doesn’t accept my apology, if she doesn’t understand just how sorry I am, I don’t think I’ll be able to go on. She’s my everything. She makes me complete. Without her I’m just a walking shell of a man.

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Tatum. You didn’t give up. You found me.” She smiles sweetly and my heart starts to beat again.

She doesn’t blame me.

“I was starting to lose hope. Just two days ago, when I got back from looking for you in Florida, I told Eddie I didn’t think I’d ever find you,” I confess. Her smile falls and she shakes her head.

“I’m not the same person I was, Tatum. I can’t promise you I’ll ever be her again. I don’t know how to do this...” she whispers. Damnit, I see her doubt creeping back in. She wants to believe, I see that. She wants to go back to how things used to be, but I’m not sure she fully can yet. Honestly, I’m not sure how we’re going to get through this now either, but I know that we will. I know that we’re strong enough to make it through anything. I need her to remember that, too.

“We’ll figure it out together. Forever and always, right?” She looks up at me when I repeat the words she said to me just two months ago, but instead of agreeing, she just nods her head silently. One day, Molly Ward. One day I will make you believe again.

Molly

I sit in the chair, digesting what Tatum just told me. My clothes, my blood, my hair. It all makes sense now, why Rob did the things he did when I was locked in the basement. I never thought why he took my clothes, why he cut my hair. I never thought they could be used as a way to torture Tatum more than he already was. I shudder at the thought. I don’t want to think about those times. I just want to be able to move on. Unfortunately, Eddie’s story keeps replaying in the back of my mind. I don’t want to turn into a walking shell. I don’t want to give up on life. I want to live my life, and I want to live it with Tatum. In order for me to move on, I need to accept what happened to me and keep moving.

I’m just not sure if I’m ready for that yet.

Tatum brought the clothes he had packed for me and set them on the side table. He told me to let him know if I needed anything else. I nodded, not really talking. For about two hours I sit quietly. In a sort of trance, I watch the world outside. The people seem so carefree, but all of them hold some sort of baggage. Everyone has secrets, most people are just really good at hiding them. I’ve learned that lesson a few times in the past six months or so. Some good, like learning I have an ally in the Savage family. Some not so good, like the drama with Brian. I try not to dwell too much on the secrets that got me hurt, though. I’ll never be able to move on if I can’t see the good in life.

It’s that thought that keeps swirling in my head. Sure, I’ve been through a lot in the last few months, but I’ve been sitting here now for two hours dwelling on the bad things. Tatum is here, sitting silently in the room with me, being as patient as he can possibly be. I have a friend in Eddie, a man who would seemingly do anything for his friends. I have an ally with the Savage family, and I have a feeling the Delany family will no longer be bothering me. There is so much good in my life right now, I just need to learn to embrace it. In order to do that, I know what I have to do.

I stand up, take a calming breath, drop the blanket and the towel, and walk to the table to get dressed. I don’t look at him while I’m dressing. I can’t. I know he’s staring. I know he sees the ugly purple bruise across my ribs that was given to me a few days ago. I know he sees the few wounds that are healing on my back from the belt a few weeks ago. I know he sees it all, but I don’t try to stop it. I’m not here to display how banged up I am. I’m here to move past it.

Once I get dressed I turn and face him, finally looking into his eyes. His beautiful eyes that I missed so much in these last two months. Eyes that look so hurt, right now.

“I’m ready to talk,” I tell him, in the strongest voice that I can muster. I’m going to do this, then I want it done and gone. I want to move on. And I want to do it my way.

I’m a fighter. I can do this.