Page 2 of Starlit Skies


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Was she really going to do this? Her heart was going a million miles an hour. Was there even anyone inside? They might’vealready left to walk up to the lodge for dinner. Perhaps she should have a story ready, for when someone opened the door.

She should leave. Turn around and walk away. This was none of her business.

Her hand went involuntarily to encircle her wrist, and she remembered the terrible cracking sound it made as Craig’s foot came down upon it, like a twig snapping. Remembered the pain, excruciating, surprising her with how much it incapacitated her. It was fine now, no one could even tell it’d ever been broken. And that’s the way she liked to keep it. Not even her brother, Dale, knew.

Nope, she didn’t need to get involved in whatever was going on in there.

The barest hint of a noise came from inside. A whimper of pain. All of Skylar’s pretend excuses for leaving that front porch evaporated. There was another woman in there in need of help. Perhaps if Skylar had had someone prepared to stand up for her, things might’ve ended differently.

Skylar raised her fist and knocked on the door.

There was no answer. It was as if the cabin were holding its breath.

She knocked again, louder this time.

There was a murmur, and a male voice swore softly, then a light came on inside, followed almost immediately by the porch light flicking on, nearly blinding her.

The door rattled and swung open. A man stood there, bare-chested, with trousers on, but no shirt or shoes.

“What do you want?” he asked, not hiding the brittle tone in his voice. Or the slight slur in his words. The man was drunk. She knew this couple; this was their third night at the station. Dan Sanders and his wife, Patty. They were in their late fifties. Had seemed like any normal couple—albeit rich—up from Sydney to spend a few nights soaking in the amazingQueensland countryside. He was fit and tanned, sporting a muscled chest with a sprinkling of gray hair. He kept his large body firmly wedged in the door, blocking her view.

Skylar squared her shoulders. “I heard noises. Where’s Patty? I’d like to see her, please.” There was no point in trying to be tactful. If she needed to, she’d apologize later. Her mother would probably kill her if she got this wrong. The guests were always right in Daniella’s eyes.

He narrowed his eyes, his mouth going tight and hard. Without shifting his steely gaze from her face, Dan called out, “Patty, get out here. The cook wants to talk to you.”

At least he knew who she was, hopefully recognized that she had some authority here.

There was the sound of bare feet on the wooden floorboards, and Patty’s frightened face peered around the side of her husband’s impressive bicep. The look in her eyes, one of wary confusion and fear, made Skylar’s blood start to boil. She knew that look; recognized it from her own face staring back at her from the mirror after a night when Craig’s temper had got the better of him.

Right at that second, Skylar hated all men. They were all driven by their big, fat egos. All of them thought they were the Lord’s gift to humankind, and had every right to treat women with disdain and contempt. And she should know. Skylar had lived with just such a man. One who thought he could dominate her. But she’d escaped, and so could this woman.

Skylar spoke to the woman, ignoring the big, hairy man right in front of her. “Hi, Patty, I’m Skylar. The head chef up at the lodge.”

Patty merely nodded in acknowledgment. Her short auburn hair was normally sleek and stylish. Tonight, it was ruffled and unkempt. Skylar could only see the woman’s head, the rest of her body was hidden behind Dan.

“I was in the kitchen garden, and I heard noises. I wanted to make sure you were okay?”

Patty’s eyes, which were already large, went wider still at Skylar’s words. Her hand flew to her throat in what Skylar knew to be an unconscious reflex. To cover the bruises that were now just starting to appear. Her lips moved, but no answer was forthcoming. Dan simply stood there, smirking, watching Skylar like a hawk, seemingly untroubled, as if he knew Patty would never betray him.

Skylar asked again, “Patty, are you okay? I want to make sure you’re not hurt.”

Tears shone in the other woman’s eyes, even as she shook her head in the negative. But Skylar could clearly see the bruises now, finger-marks on Patty’s neck where her disgusting excuse for a husband had obviously tried to strangle her.

“I think you’ve got this all wrong,” Dan intoned; a magnanimous teacher talking to a naughty child. “As you can see, Patty’s fine. We’re both fine. I’m not sure what you heard, but maybe you’ve blown it out of proportion. Who knows, perhaps the problem is in your own head.” His smirk got wider, and Skylar wanted to spit in his face.

She’d had enough of this lying fuck and his subterfuge and innuendo. Patty was obviously being abused, and if she wouldn’t stand up for herself, then Skylar damn well would.

“Say what you like, but I know what I heard. I’m calling the police. They can sort this out.” Skylar went to turn on her heel and walk back up to the lodge.

There was a roar of rage from behind her, and before she knew it, Skylar had been jerked backward, losing her balance, and falling against the husband’s chest. A hand covered her mouth as she was dragged over the hearth, the door slamming in front of her.

“You won’t dare call the cops on me, you little whore.”

Sheer surprise made her go limp. She was trapped inside, being held against Dan’s chest like a rag doll. No one else knew where she was. The hand covering her mouth was large and sweaty, and she struggled to call out. Struggled to breathe. Adrenaline coursed through her body, but it was as if she were paralyzed. Frozen with fear.

Memories steamrolled over her. Memories of being held by Craig in exactly the same way. Memories of helplessness and self-loathing.

No.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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