Page 6 of Ice King

How he eased his guilty conscience.

I rubbed my cheek involuntarily, immediately pulling my hand free. The worst thing I could do was acknowledge the fight from two nights before. Or the aftereffects my foundation had difficulty hiding.

“Do you like it?” As with every gift he provided, his voice became that of a child praying his parents would offer a pittance of crumbs in acknowledgment of his accomplishments. All I’d needed was to meet his father to know what Hoffman had likely endured as a child.

What I’d realized was that whatever atrocities or hardships he’d faced as a kid didn’t mean I should tolerate spending my life around an abusive man. I was worth more than failing myself in some endeavor to pretend I wasn’t suffering. That I didn’t deserve better. The girl I’d once been, the one full of life with a mouth on her that had always gotten me into trouble had vanished. When I looked into the mirror, I only saw a girl with haunted eyes staring back at me. Even the anger had almost been beaten into a dark abyss.

“Absolutely. Just gorgeous. Do you think it would be okay if I wore it on the cruise? I mean I know we’re on the ocean and…” I purposely allowed my words to trail off, pretending that I needed his advice.

“I was hoping you’d want to wear it, baby. Of course. Let me put it on for you.”

For a few minutes, he wasn’t the horrible monster who’d taken control of every aspect of my life. He wasn’t the man who picked out my clothes or told me what to eat, admonishing me if I ever wanted something sweet. And he wasn’t the man who expectedme to perform my duties no matter how I felt at the end of a long day.

This man was the one I’d fallen in love with, the one who’d doted on me for weeks, acting as if the sun rose and set on me. He was the man who brought me roses, who’d taken me to my favorite restaurants, and who’d watched all the chick flicks I knew he’d hated. The one who’d been there when I’d curled into a ball, asking God why he’d taken my mother away. My rock. My best friend. I’d thought him a prince.

Not a monster.

The transition was slow and almost as if I hadn’t been paying attention.

As I stared at the sparkly designer piece, seeing dollar signs at least brought some sense of my own personal peace.

Even if my world was about to collapse.

“Beautiful. Just like you.” He backed away, returning to his lounge chair, sliding on his sunglasses and ignoring the dark clouds overhead. He was the kind of man who believed he could control the weather like everything else.

I fingered the bracelet, returning to my wine as I practiced my breathing.

There was nothing about the ocean I liked and I never had. Hoffman knew that. Not that he cared. With the breeze kicking up, the ocean waters were already turbulent, tossing me back and forth as I tried to walk across the deck to the galley. My nerves were close to becoming frazzled, which couldn’t happen.

“What a beautiful day, huh?” he asked as I passed. He was leaning back in his lounge chair, soaking in the sun even thoughthe clouds were thickening. With his dark sunglasses on, he couldn’t tell the sky was growing angry.

“Yes,” I said, which was the only reply I could muster. My stomach churned, more nauseated than the last time I’d been forced onto the boat. Only this time, the sail had been days, not hours, and instead of becoming more used to the movement and getting my sea legs, I’d been fighting with keeping any food down.

Not only from the condition of the sailing trip but also from nerves.

At least he seemed to be in a good mood for a change. During the last few months, his grueling schedule had taken a significant toll. Even more than usual.

“Hey,” he said and I stopped dead in my tracks, hissing as quietly as possible. The last thing I needed to do was to make him angry.

I was tired of everything I’d worked for being challenged and put on the backburner. I was stronger than the woman I portrayed. Damn the man. Damn the situation and the horrible nightmare I was living.

I took a deep breath, holding my shoulders back as I tipped my head to the side. I’d learned a long time ago how to fake happiness. That’s what he expected and in doing so, I’d learned how to disarm him. At least I could remind myself this was the last goddamn boat ride I’d tolerate.

“Yes? Do you need something?”

“Bring me another beer,” he said while lifting his sunglasses. “And before you return, change that damn bathing suit. I hate that one.”

“Not a problem.Honey.”

My joints were stiff as I moved into the bedroom, hating that my body was shaking as usual. But this time more from adrenaline than anything else. I grabbed my one piece, jerking the bikini off. I hated the damn thing anyway. It was too small and too tight.

Just the way he preferred.

Only I wasn’t that girl and never had been. For all the attempts at molding me into something I wasn’t, he’d failed. Like he was doing with his business. A sly smile crossed my face. He didn’t like me to know about the issues he was facing, but the writing was on the wall.

I slipped into a coverup, taking my little backpack and attaching it to my waist, easing it underneath the shirt. As I looked into the mirror, my reflection highlighted sheer determination instead of fear.

By the time I headed to the galley, I noticed dark clouds in the sky. The storm was coming way too fast. Hoffman hadn’t listened when I’d told him the weather report. He’d acted like he was invincible, which was the same way he acted about everything else.