Cut Too Deep (15 page)

“I own you, and you will do what I say.”

Hadley stood frigid as his words sank in. She didn’t doubt her former guardian believed what he said. He’d always treated her like property, but she chaperoned her life now, and she wouldn’t allow him to dictate terms between them.

“You’re hurting me!”

Her discomfort excited him and he squeezed harder. She cringed when he slowly licked her cheek.

“Open the door and let me in, and I promise to release you.”

Vivid memories raced in Hadley’s mind. Opening the door meant reliving one of the many previous encounters she’d had with this vulgar man.

“No!”

This bitch was beginning to piss him off. Harold wondered where his submissive little girl had gone, the one who feared telling him no. The one he could control effortlessly.

Harold covered Hadley’s mouth with his. He forced his tongue between her tightly sealed lips. His rough fingers searched the skin below her shirt before moving higher. When he hummed in appreciation, the fucking cunt bit him. He cried out in pain and stumbled back with fury in his veins. The unmistakable taste of blood coated his mouth. His rights to her had come at a high price, and now she felt she could dismiss him. He would prove her wrong.

“You fucking bitch!” Harold roared. “You’re going to pay for that! I’m filing a petition tomorrow to have your guardianship reinstated for participating in illegal activities.”

“Go right ahead!” She stood tall. “I’m not afraid of you!”

Hadley didn’t exactly know why his threat failed to scare her, but she felt resolve in standing her ground. Dr. LeClair and Don McAllister would both testify on her behalf, and Mac would be the first character witness she’d ever had. It suddenly dawned on Hadley; if she never stood up to this bully, he would always control her, like her father had her mother. Had her mother found the courage to stand up to her father years before that night, Hadley’s life may have turned out very differently. She would never be like her mother. She refused to be weak again.

“You should be afraid.” Harold wrapped his arms around her, cupping her ass and bringing her close. “I have ways of ensuring you never again have your freedom. You’d be wise to reconsider.”

Hadley trembled in his arms as she considered what his
ways
were. He would lie if it meant getting what he wanted, but she wouldn’t give in. If it cost her everything, so be it. If he followed through on his threats, she would tell the court about the things he did to her. It would be her word against his, and, although he used to convince her no one would believe a murderer and a troubled, depressed woman, Hadley was willing to risk it to maintain her independence. A life in prison, or a mental institution, would be a picnic compared to a life with him. She thrashed against him, shouting at him to let her go.

“Leave me alone, or I’m going to call the police and tell them everything.”

Harold squeezed her harder, wondering where her bravery came from.

That damn doctor she sees
, he assumed.

“With your well documented history, they’ll never believe you.”

“Are you willing to chance it?” She pushed her palms against his chest, straining to straighten her arms. Alcohol burned her nostrils. His repulsive scent continued to make her stomach flip fop. “I’m not afraid! Do you hear me, you bastard?”

When Harold heard a door open, he released his peach and turned his head. An old women came out of her apartment, wearing a sleeping gown. She approached the arguing pair in her bare feet. The look of concern on the nosy neighbor’s face had Harold’s blood boiling. Hadley had never been so thrilled to see Mrs. St. Armont.

The old woman smiled at Hadley with apprehension. “I heard you screaming. Is everything okay here?” When Hadley shook her head no, Mrs. St. Armont turned her large eyes on Harold Duwatski, glaring at him heatedly.

“We’re fine, Grandma. Go back to your apartment!”

Her eyes grew wider at the stranger’s rudeness.

“I was speaking to Hadley.”

His jaw ticked with agitation. He turned his body toward Mrs. St. Armont.

“This is none of your concern.”

Mrs. St. Armont pounded her index finger into his chest without fear.

“When it comes to this little girl, it most definitely
is
my
concern
.”

Hadley smiled. Her former guardian’s expression turned to shock.

That’s right, asshole, people care about me.

Truthfully, the fact shocked Hadley as much as it did him.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Both women gasped. Mrs. St. Armont grew angry. She didn’t know Hadley’s visitor, but clearly he wasn’t welcomed.

“I’m her friend and it’s time for you to go.”

“I’ll go when I’m ready!”

Hadley stepped between the two and faced her ex-guardian.

“You’ll leave now, or I’ll call the police. I think you being intoxicated and paying a visit to a former ward would validate my case a great deal.”

“Fine! I’ll go, but I fucking own you, little girl. Remember that. You belong to me, and we aren’t finished yet.”

“Yes, we are. You see, I’m tired of being afraid. I meant what I said. If you come near me again, I will file a report. The reality is, I’m not a possession, and you do
not
own me. You took advantage of me during a vulnerable time in my life. But, I’m not a scared child any longer. Thanks to your advice, I have a job and am fully capable of taking care of myself. I don’t need you, and I don’t want you in my life.”

Harold stood and stared at her in stunned silence. If Hadley thought she could handle it emotionally, she would file a report for the sole purpose of making him suffer. But, somewhere underneath the new stronger version of herself was a child whose life had been defined by a crime she committed years ago. The court ruling that, as an innocent child, she acted in self-defense was merely a formality.

Technically, she was a murderer.

Her file detailed how she was a danger to herself and others. Notes of drug use, suicide attempts, and illegal activities, although exaggerated, corrupted her character and limited her credibility. In addition to the lies he would spew about Hadley, a case against him would mean reliving the entire nightmare, every touch, followed by every scream, and every desperate cry of no.

Keeping silent allowed Hadley to maintain her sanity. If she lost against him in court, he might permanently destroy her. She’d already given up her dream to be free of this man, and she wouldn’t let him have anything else, including her new found courage.

“You heard the girl. It’s time for you to leave.”

During her tirade, Hadley forgot her neighbor witnessed everything. She wondered what the kind woman would think of her now. She waited for the threat Mr. Duwatski would deliver next, but nothing came. He turned in silence and walked away, leaving Hadley with mixed emotions—happiness he left, but nervous about his next move.

A warm hand squeezed Hadley’s shoulder. She turned her head to look at Mrs. St. Armont.

“Are you all right, dear?”

To her surprise, she was more than all right, in fact, liberated best describe how Hadley felt. She covered the woman’s hand with her own and smiled.

“Thank you for defending me.”

“Oh, please, honey. I didn’t do anything any other decent human being would do. And, you did a pretty good job of defending yourself.”

Hadley knew Mr. St. Armont to be wrong. Many self-respecting people had seen how her father treated her mother, but they never intervened. Mr. and Mrs. Nelson owned the market downstairs from them. Mrs. Nelson gave them food occasionally that her mother hid, but would close her door when the arguing erupted, pretending she didn’t hear. Then, there was Hadley’s grandparents, relatives, and teachers—all self-respecting people, who ignored the signs.

“Well, thank you, anyway.”

“I know it’s none of my business, but do you want to talk about it?”

“I appreciate that, but not right now,” Hadley answered. “I’m tired, and I’m guessing we woke you up.”

“It’s no problem, sweetheart, and you know where to find me if you need me.”

Hadley thanked her neighbor again. She went inside where she tried not to think about what her ex-guardian would’ve done to her if her rescuer hadn’t shown up, because her courage would have disappeared. It always did.

M
iller had spent nearly ten days in a rat infested shit hole, amidst the smell of urine, sex, and vomit, all to rescue a woman who hadn’t loved him in years and who didn’t want to be discovered. He’d followed Theresa Jensen many places, but this time he chased her right into hell.

Years ago Miller accepted their relationship would never be rekindled, but it didn’t stop him from trying to keep Theresa straight. Whether it was drugs or sex, Theresa overindulged. Like most addicts, experimenting didn’t suffice. What started with her and Miller sharing a joint and laughing like silly kids, ultimately led Theresa to cocaine and heroin.

Miller blamed himself and checked her into rehab. He thought she was cured, as if her addiction was a disease. There was no cure, only alternate vices. Once an addict, always an addict, but he hoped at the very least, she would fall into remission.

When she craved more in the bedroom, Miller wanted to satisfy her needs, but wasn’t prepared to quench her thirst. She requested to be dominated beyond innocent blindfolds and the occasional handcuffs. She wanted to be forced with a heavy hand to perform acts that went well above sexual pleasure. That demand was the demise of their relationship.

Shortly after their separation, Theresa dove back into drug use and began frequenting clubs where she could bring her sexual fantasies to life. Through abusive men, overnights in jail, and stints in rehab, Miller continually came to Theresa’s rescue.

For ten days now, Miller pondered why he couldn’t let Theresa go. He drew the conclusion what he had mistaken so long as love was merely guilt in disguise. Love that runs its course can easily be let go of. Guilt; however, wraps around your conscience and constricts until it takes every last breath you have.

Admittedly, Miller hadn’t realized he was nearly out of oxygen until the letter from his brown-eyed admirer appeared and forced him to breathe. It was the cleansing and refreshing dose of reality he needed to finally let Theresa go.

Miller regretted the first letter he sent Hadley where he treated her with the disrespect he gave all women who thought they could replace Theresa. The letter represented the self-destructive nature he defaulted to when he failed Theresa and needed to cope. Hadley deserved better. She wasn’t Theresa, and she wasn’t like the other women he frequently took to bed for a quick fuck. If his assumptions about her were correct, if he knew her, Hadley wouldn’t replace Theresa—she would completely erase the woman and the last five years of guilt that accompanied her.

Gaining Hadley’s trust would be near impossible, but he set the plans in motion to penetrate the brick walls she’d surely built around her heart. If Hadley responded to his latest letter, he would show the lamb that the wolf was worthy of her trust.

Miller hadn’t heard the door open or his cousin’s entrance until Paul stood before him holding an envelope.

While Miller was still atrociously filthy, his bruises were healing, and Paul didn’t see any fresh ones. Mr. Ralston at the Embassy had advised the men holding Miller that torturing an American could lead to questions about what type of business they were running. Paul knew these men didn’t want Interpol involved, but hadn’t been entirely convinced Mr. Ralston had influenced them. Paul was relieved to see that, perhaps, he had.

A smile broke out over Miller’s face as he took the letter from his cousin. He brought it to his nose to sniff her perfume.

Paul shot him a strange look.

“Please, tell me I can issue a press release to stop the rest of the letters now. The P.O. Box isn’t big enough to hold them all.”

“Please do. Hers are the only letters I want to receive.”

“About that…look…I have a company to run. I can’t fly all this way a couple of times a week to deliver her letters. They’ll need to go through the embassy from now on, which I know will take longer, but…”

“I expected as much and have made other arrangements,” Miller interrupted. “I know I haven’t said it, but I appreciate you doing this.”

“I certainly owe you for everything you’ve tried to do for my sister.”

Miller’s expression tightened.

“Have you heard from her?”

Paul sighed heavily in annoyance.

“No, but if I had, I’m not sure I would tell you. It’s time to let her go.”

“You’re right, my friend. It is.”

Miller’s agreement surprised Paul.

“Does that mean you’ll give these guys what they want and come home?”

“Soon.”

Paul mumbled what a stubborn bastard his cousin was and paced the floor. Miller ignored his cousin’s grumbling and read Hadley’s latest letter. He delighted in her light demeanor and playful bantering. When finished, he grabbed a pen and wrote her back. He placed the letter in a small box and requested his cousin see that she gets it.