Towering, craggy mountains stand stark against the bright blue sky, the highest peaks still tipped with snow. The gray bleeds into lush green where the forests spill onto the ranch, the colors so vibrant against the rock and dotted with fields of wildflowers, each color blending into the next, I can’t focus on a single one. It’s a kaleidoscope of life, almost overwhelming, but I can’t look away.
From here, I can just make out the larger farmhouse, a mix of wood and natural stone that looks as if it were plucked right off the side of the mountains themselves.
There’s just so much to see right in front of me. Horses graze in pastures and cattle roam with their calves while men laugh as they work. It’s hard not to compare this place to Scott Ranch; how different it is from just a glance. It makes my feet itch to explore, excitement at the mere prospect of stepping out into that mountain air to get lost here making my heart skip a beat. Cracking the window slightly, I let some of that into the room, feeling the light summer breeze brush against my skin as it sweeps in along with the sounds. Birds. Laughter. Horses.
Heading back to the bed, I pick a pair of shorts from the pile of clothes Niamh left along with a simple white T-shirt and the sneakers, opting for comfy since I’m not entirely sure what I am going to do today. Cracking the door open, I look toward the front of the house, but it seems everyone is distracted, so Isneak across the hall to the bathroom Silas showed me earlier, only it isn’t a bathroom at all.
It’shisbedroom.
His scent is heavy in here, that citrus and leather smell that makes my skin prickle and my blood warm. It’s darker in here than the bedroom I was in, but no less cozy—more rustic with the mix of slate and stained wood, the sheets on the bed a gray to match the stone. The walls are bare of any images, but a pair of antlers hang on the wall above the bed, and light streams in through the large open window, offering a view of a wild meadow.
I’m sure I heard him right when he said the bathroom was through this door, but then remember he said it was to the left. I spot the ensuite, the door left open to show white tiles and a large mirror above the counter.
It feels invasive to be in here, but I creep toward the bathroom, hitting the switch to turn on the light. It’s the right place. On the vanity is a spare toothbrush along with any and all toiletries I could need, plus fresh towels folded next to them.
This is all too much. What they are doing and how easy it is for them to do it. I’m waiting for the shoe to drop, maybe for Cal to show up and shatter the minute of peace I’ve managed to find.
Closing and locking the bathroom door behind me, I lift my eyes to the mirror and meet my reflection.
I’m not able to stifle the wince.
A bruise darkens the skin along my cheekbone, the cut in the middle of it still raw and tight. It’s a little puffy, but I can already feel the swelling has gone down a lot since last night, and the colors of the bruise have started to deepen, the shape forming around my eye.
Cal has a temper. He has always had a temper, but he’s never gotten physical with me. It was always the wall he hit, or he threw things - plates, glasses… I think I used that as an excuse not to leave, making myself believe it wasn’t as bad as it was.It could be worse.
It was a lie I told myself over and over.
I turn away from the mirror and twist the shower on, fiddling with the dials until it’s a good temperature, and then I grab the supplies and climb under the spray, giving myself a minute just to breathe.
It still feels surreal to be here, to be free of him and his abuse.
There is one thing I know for sure, though… I willnevergo back.
I choose myself.
Chapter Twelve
I freeze as I step into my bedroom, the sound of the shower running forcing my feet to plant to the floor. Through the door, I can hear her soft, raspy voice, singing gently, just loud enough to be heard over the running water.
It sends a shiver down my spine and raises the hair on my arms.
She can sing.
I’d only come in here to grab my cell after I’d left it on charge on my nightstand this morning, but now I’m finding it hard to tear myself away from thesound.
I don’t recognize the song, but the lyrics feel heavy even though the way she sings them sounds airy and light. Unable to stop myself, I cross the room, moving closer to the bathroom door just so I can hear it better, but then the shower shuts off and I only have a second to lunge away from the door before it opens and a cloud of steam billows out of it.
My eyes snap to her face, her own body frozen as she stands there in a towel, water dripping down her body, a towel on her head to keep all those honey-blonde locks wrapped up.
Snatching my cell from the nightstand, I rip my eyes away from her, pretending I didn’t notice the freckles on her shoulders or the way the water rolled down her skin.
What kind of fucking man am I to look at a woman who’s only just escaped a dangerous situation like that?
“Sorry,” I grunt, “Just needed to grab my phone.”
“It’s okay,” she rasps, “This is your bedroom.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” I practically sprint for the door as her scent starts to mingle with mine in the air. Sugary sweet and entirely too tempting.
