Keeping What's His: Tate (Porter Brothers Trilogy Book 1) (13 page)

She paused with the cereal-filled spoon halfway to her mouth, assessing him. His face was neutral, as if he was just trying to make conversation. Sutton ate her cereal as she decided if she wanted to answer his question.

“Come on. I’m bored being cooped up.”

“So, you want me to discuss my marriage to entertain you?”

“I want you to tell me about your life because I’m interested.” The sincerity in his voice broke her resolve not to discuss her disastrous marriage.

“I met Scott when I was selling pharmaceutical supplies. He was a doctor on my route.”

“Was it love at first sight?”

“No, he actually asked me out several times before I agreed to go out with him. At first, I wasn’t interested. He seemed to be pompous, letting the prestige of his position go to his head. One night, I gave in and went out with him.” She took another bite of her cereal as she remembered back to the time when she had first started dating him.

“He seemed to loosen up while we were dating. He had a sense of humor that was wickedly funny, and I didn’t feel as lonely when I was with him. He asked me to marry him on Valentine’s Day. I thought it was romantic and that he loved me, so I said yes.”

“You thought?”

“Looking back, I think I was more of a challenge than anything else.”

“That had to hurt.”

Sutton pushed her bowl of cereal away, no longer hungry. “It wasn’t the first time. Seems men only want me as long as it takes them to catch me.”

Tate’s spoon dropped into his bowl of cereal. “That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is. I was the tiebreaker between you and Cash. With Scott, I was a trophy.”

“A trophy?”

“I found out later that the two other doctors in his practice, who had asked me out and I refused, had a bet on who could make me change my mind.”

“The fucker told you this?”

Sutton nodded. “When I told him I wanted a divorce.”

“It’s a good thing he’s dead,” he said grimly.

She stood up, going to the sink to place her dirty bowl, and then went to the front door.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going for a walk. I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Sutton …”

“The conversation is over. I don’t want to talk about my marriage anymore. I don’t want to talk about my past with you, either. It makes me sick to my stomach that I was a fool twice in my life.”

“I didn’t fool you—” Tate rose to face her angrily.

“Yes, you did!” she screamed at him, losing control. “You lied to me. You told me you would always be there for me, Tate! Remember? I loved you with every breath in my body, and all you were concerned about was getting one up on Cash. I was always there when you needed me. I was there when your parents were drowned. I helped you with your brothers and Rachel. I helped you pass your college entrance exams even though you had no intention of going. I protected you from my father. Even after we broke up, I watched out for you.”

Tate’s face went pale. “What are you talking about?”

“When Greer was put in jail for selling drugs to an undercover cop, I read about it in the paper. I contacted Diamond and told her I would pay her any additional fees she wanted, but I wanted Greer out of jail.”

“Why didn’t she tell us?”

“Because I told her not to. Even now, I’m protecting you by letting you hide out here, despite that someone else could be killed.” She gave a hysterical laugh. “I never stopped being there for you, but you were never there when I needed you. Ever. Not when my parents and I fought over you, not when I was missing my family and Treepoint so badly I married a man who abused me, and you sure as hell weren’t there when I needed you the most—the day my daughter died.”

Chapter 15

Sutton flung open the door, jumped off the porch and ran into the woods, not noticing her feet being torn up by the gravel driveway or the sticks and brambles in the woods. Running from her past, Tate, and the day she had had lost her precious eleven-month-old daughter.

She came to a stop halfway up the mountain, holding her stomach, gasping, trying to catch her breath. Sobs escaped as she threw herself down next to a tree. Holding her knees, she laid her head back on the tree as she tried to regain control.

She had been determined not to tell anyone about Valentine. When her anger at Tate had opened the floodgates, she hadn’t been able to push back her words. Even as she was screaming at Tate, her mind was telling her to shut up.

“Sassy pants …”

“Don’t call me that.”

She sat there helplessly as Tate walked forward, squatting down in front of her. His hand reached out to cup her cheek, his large palm rough and calloused, yet the gentleness in his touch gave her the strength to stifle the cries coming from her throat.

“I thought I was doing the right thing by letting you go …”

Sutton’s eyes jerked up to his; the pain he was no longer trying to hide hit her with the force of a punch to the stomach.

“I would have killed Cash over any other woman I loved, the way I loved you, but I knew you would give up your dreams up for me. I would have gotten you pregnant and kept you on the mountain. I wanted your dreams to come true, not to be sacrificed for me.

“When you left town after graduation, I almost went after you. The only thing stopping me was wanting you to have the life you deserved. I told myself that I would give you your freedom until my family was grown. Then I would drag you back to Treepoint.”

“You never came for me,” she hiccupped, unable to stop crying.

“I did,” he said, tears brimming in his eyes. “I gave you enough time to graduate and work a few years, long enough to decide which life you would prefer. I tracked you down in San Diego and waited outside where you worked. I sat there all day, waiting for you to come out. I had bought a new outfit so I wouldn’t embarrass you when you saw me.

“When you came out, you looked so beautiful I couldn’t move. Then, a red sports car pulled in, and a man got out, holding the door for you. I could tell he had money. He was dressed in an expensive suit with his hair all slicked back. You kissed him before getting in the car. I saw the ring on your finger and knew you were going to marry him.

“How could I compete with him? The pants I had on didn’t cost as much as those fancy shoes he wore. I couldn’t give you the house or the money or life he could, so I left. I was jealous and angry, but I left because you were living the life I thought you wanted and deserved. If I had any idea you needed me, I would have been there. I swear, Sutton, I would have been there for you.” He sat down next to her, placing his arm around her shoulder then pulling her to him until her head lay on his shoulder.

They sat there quietly for hours, each regretting the missed opportunities. She believed Lisa’s lies, and Tate had believed he couldn’t measure up. Neither of them had faith in the love they had found that one special summer.

“How did your daughter die?” Tate eventually asked.

“After Scott and I were married, it didn’t take long for me to realize my mistake. We had only been back from our honeymoon for two weeks when he started abusing me.

“I was taking a bath when he walked in and asked why I hadn’t quit my job after he had asked me to. I told him I had never said I would quit working, and he dragged me out of the bathtub by my hair and beat me. I lay there on the wet floor, believing I was going to die.

“When he finished, he left me to go to bed as if nothing had happened. It took me a while, but I managed to get up and clean myself up. I tried to leave, and he told me if I did, he would kill my parents. I believed him. He was crazy and wasn’t trying to hide it any longer. The next day, he called my work and told my boss I wouldn’t be back. I was even afraid to visit pap before he died.

“Not one person called to check on me, and I didn’t know where to turn to for help. I didn’t want my parents to know I had married a man who would hurt me, but could potentially hurt them. I was ashamed and angry at myself for falling for his crap.

“He made sure I was isolated and afraid. I became that woman I swore I would never be when I heard about abused women. He would beat me and then hold me and say it was for my own good. I began to believe him. He stole my self-respect; I couldn’t ever make him happy. If I cooked him something, he would call it slop or hillbilly swill. I used to be a good cook, remember?”

“The best I ever had.” Tate’s soft voice sent a wave of reassurance, though Scott’s insults still had her doubting if there was truth to his statements.

“He broke my arm when he found out I was taking birth control. Then, when I didn’t get pregnant, he would call me an infertile bitch. If he didn’t like the way I was dressed, he would call me a slut. I wouldn’t wear anything low-cut or sleeveless, even though I stayed in the house all day. I couldn’t go to the grocery store unless he went with me, and he had alarms on the windows and doors that would tell him if I tried to leave. I was trapped and didn’t know how to get away.

“When I became pregnant, the beatings stopped, but he wouldn’t even let me go to the obstetrician alone. He stayed with me every second, even during the exams. It still boggles my mind that, because of his position, he was given so much leeway. Even professional, educated people abuse their spouses. It isn’t based on being poor.”

“I know that,” he assured her.

“I wish my obstetrician had known that. One of the questions when I was admitted to the hospital to have Valentine was whether I was afraid of anyone. She asked me in front of Scott. How was I supposed to answer? I was too afraid to tell the truth. God help me, I should have. My daughter would still be alive.”

“Sutton, I learned a long time ago that ‘
what
’ and ‘
if
’ are the two most painful words in the world. I still blame myself for not going fishing with my parents the day they died.”

“I want her back so badly. Sometimes, I can’t breathe because I want it so much…” She broke off as tears she didn’t know how she was still capable of crying slid down her cheeks.

Tate’s arm tightened around her, giving her the strength to finish the horrific account of the way her beautiful daughter’s life had ended.

“When I came home from the hospital with my baby, he became even more controlling, saying I didn’t want to have sex anymore. It was true. I couldn’t fake it. He made my skin crawl when he touched me.

“Scott was critical of everything. I wasn’t holding her right or making her take naps. He made me write down the times I breastfed her and for how long. One day, he shoved me when I was holding Valentine, and I almost dropped her. He blamed me, of course.

“When she was three months old, she developed colic, and he said the foods I was eating were to blame, giving her gas, so he made me put her on formula.” Sutton began shaking, the memories becoming too painful.

“One night, he came home from working an emergency, and he went to bed. I couldn’t get Valentine to quit crying. I tried everything, but she wouldn’t stop. Scott came into the nursery, and I could tell by the way he was looking at her that, if he had the chance, he would hurt her. I laid her back in the crib and told him to stay away from her. When I woke up, I was lying on the floor, and he was sitting on the rocking chair, holding my baby. He said he would kill me if I ever tried to come between he and his daughter, and that was the end of it for me. I wasn’t going to take the chance he would hurt Valentine again.

“When he went to bed, I slipped into the bedroom and stole his cell phone. I called a domestic abuse hotline, and the next day when Scott went to work, two of the most beautiful women in the world showed up at the door. I took Valentine and the clothes on our back and ran.

“They gave us a place to stay where Scott couldn’t find us, clothes, and food. Without their help, I don’t know what I would have done. They helped and counseled me through my divorce, provided me with doctors that could testify to the damage he had done to my body. He had broken my arm, several ribs, my nose had been broken so many times it was deformed, and my left eye drooped.

“I was given a divorce and a restraining order for both me and Valentine. I didn’t even ask for spousal or child support, because I knew it would infuriate him even more, so they helped me find a job and start over.

“For two blissful months, I had a life that I was beginning to enjoy. Scott stayed away. I should have known he wouldn’t let us go. I had even warned my parents through one of the domestic abuse shelters to be careful. I thought Scott would be too afraid of losing the respect of his friends and co-workers to violate the restraining order.

“I went to pick up Valentine from daycare two months after our divorce. When I was buckling her into her car seat in the backseat, he knocked me out and pushed me into the car. I woke up with him driving around the city, ranting at me. I tried everything I could to calm him down, but it didn’t work.

“He pulled off the road and dragged me to the trunk of the car and shoved me in, slamming the lid down before I could escape. I was so proud of myself for buying that piece of junk so I would have my independence and be able to pick up Valentine from daycare. It was so old it didn’t have the emergency release for trunks.” She gave a bitter laugh. “I kept screaming at him to stop and let me out, that he better not hurt Valentine.

“I don’t know how long he drove around, because I was in and out of consciousness. I woke when he stopped the car and threw Valentine at me. I held her as he drove, not having any idea of what he was going to do next. I don’t think he did, either. I was so scared, and all I could do was lay there in the dark, holding Valentine.”

“Jesus.”

“Believe me, I prayed. I prayed for God to help me. I prayed my parents would save us, though I hadn’t talked to them in years. I even prayed that you would rescue me. I know it was unrealistic, but I kept praying someone would save us in time.

“Finally, the car stopped, and everything was quiet. I wanted the trunk to open, but I was afraid at the same time. I was terrified of what he would do to us when it did. I heard the sound of a gunshot, but after that, nothing. I started screaming for help over and over again, pleading for Scott to open the trunk, but he never did.

“I lay there in that trunk, thinking sooner or later, I would get help. None came. Even when I knew my baby was dying, I still held out hope someone would find us in time. No one did, and when she took her last breath, I didn’t want to be saved anymore. I wanted to die with her.

“When I heard someone at the trunk, I didn’t make a sound. I wanted them to go away. It’s funny, but when I quit wanting to be found was when I was.

“I fought the deputy who tried to help me. It took two EMTs to get me out of that trunk and take my baby away. In the hospital, they told me Scott had parked in an isolated parking lot, gotten in the back seat, and shot himself. One of the abuse workers I had remained in contact with had reported me missing, and all the members had banded together to search for us. One of them found the car in the parking lot.”

Tate had remained silent so long she raised her head, finding his own eyes brimming with tears and his cheeks wet.

“If I hadn’t left that day …”

“If I hadn’t listened to Lisa …”

Tate’s tortured expression had her protective instincts rising. She couldn’t bear to see the big, outrageously confident man believe he was responsible for any part of the disaster her life had become with Scott.

“It was no one’s fault besides mine. I should have brought Valentine back to Treepoint, but my pride held me back. I didn’t want to face my parents with my mistake. I didn’t want to see you around town, hating me, gloating that I was divorced.”

A groan passed his lips.

“I’m making it worse, aren’t I?”

“That you thought I was the biggest walking asshole imaginable? You were wrong. I wouldn’t have gloated. I would have been chasing after you.”

“Yeah, right. You didn’t exactly welcome me back to town.”

“Maybe not, but I wasn’t able to stay away, either. Why do you think I was out in the woods the night Lyle was killed?” He picked up one of her hands, turning it over and rubbing the scarred flesh of her wrist with his thumb. “You …”

“In the hospital, without Valentine, I didn’t want to live. I think Scott didn’t shoot us because he wanted us to die a slow, painful death, but the bastard didn’t have the courage to do it himself. I locked myself in the bathroom and slit my wrists with a razor I stole from a male patient’s room next to mine. A nurse found me in time, and they managed to save me.”

“Are you still suicidal?” No one would ever accuse a Porter of being tactful.

“No, I received counseling and the support of the domestic violence group that helped rescue me.” She gave him an ironic smile. “It didn’t take long for my mountain blood to kick back in. I decided to live just to spite Scott. It wasn’t much of a reason to keep living, but then I began helping other abused women. I put them in contact with those who could help, plastic surgeons to repair physical damage that is a constant reminder of the abuse they suffered.” She ran a finger down her perfectly shaped nose. “The worst thing is to be reminded every time you look in a mirror.”