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Authors: Shelly Pratt

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BOOK: Salvage Her Heart
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Eight

GRAYSON

 

‘What’s going on in that head of yours?’

‘What do you mean?’ I’m trying my best to sound as ignorant as possible, but by the look on Jean’s face, I’m not fooling anyone. We haven’t yet opened up shop for the day, and yet, I’m already staring out of the deli window like my life depends on it.

‘Well, I’m no genius, Grayson, but I’d be willing to put bets on the fact that sometime in the last month you’ve become a changed man. And by changed, I mean love-sick, which, by the way, has made your head space available anywhere but here at work.’

‘That obvious, huh?’

‘Yes, it certainly is.’

‘I’m not seeing anyone, although I damn sure wish I was.’

‘Can I offer you a piece of advice?’

‘Do I have a choice in the matter?’

‘No,’ she laughs, ‘but that is entirely beside the point. I’ve noticed since Evie came into the shop that now every time you’re working a shift, you’re expecting that little lady to come waltzing right through the front door. Heck, you’ve even started volunteering for extra shifts, which in my opinion is all because you’re hoping to run into her again. Am I right?’

‘You could be
…’

‘You bet your arse I am. But I don’t think you’re looking at the big picture.’

‘Which is?’

‘She’s taken
—married—hitched—or whatever you want to call it. Fact is, that woman will bring you nothing but trouble.’ I look at her sharply, giving her the best unimpressed look I can muster.

‘I never said I was going
to date her, Jean. She’s just a… friend.’

‘Well if that ain’t the biggest load of bullshit I ever heard.’

‘She already told me she was married.’

‘I’m sure she did, honey. It doesn’t change the fact that you’d like to fuck her six ways ‘til Sunday.’

‘Jean!’

‘Oh
, don’t get all saintly on me, son. I speak the truth and you know it, but there’s something you need to look out for with women like Evie, and that’s the baggage they carry around with them.’

‘Can you stop being so cryptic and come out and say what you really mean. Heck, you’ve come this far.’

‘No need to get testy,’ she says as she stocks the shelves in the refrigerator. ‘When Evie comes in here, what do you notice about her?’

‘Well, she’s shy, reserved and a little old-fashioned, wouldn’t you say?’

‘I would say, yes. But there’s something else you noticed and yet seem to be sweeping that under the rug just nicely so that little fantasy in your head can play out.’

I’m sure by now my jaw is clenching. Damn Jean and her nosey-parker ways. Why can’t she just leave me to day dream in peace about the girl I know I’ll never get to have? The reality is I do want her
—more than I’ll let on to anyone, especially Jean. I know she’s just trying to look out for me as she’s always done. Right now, though, I’m liking the fantasy just fine.

‘It’s the bruise on her face. Is that what you’re talking about?’

‘Bingo! You know, Grayson, for a smart guy, sometimes you can be a little slow.’

‘I’m not slow, I’m just
…’

‘In denial?’

‘No…’

‘Well what then?’

‘I asked her about it.’

‘What did she say?’

‘Nothing. She walked away and I haven’t seen her since. That was almost a month ago.’

‘Well that just tells you something, now, doesn’t it?’

‘I’m hoping it doesn’t.’

‘Oh come on, love! Let me tell you something about me that I’ve never shared with anyone. When you came to stay with me, I told you that my husband died, but I never told you
how
he died.’

I’m quiet now, sensing that perhaps for the first time in my life, I perhaps don’t know Jean as well as I thought I did.

‘What happened?’

‘Life hasn’t always been easy for me. Many would have said I had a nice life, a good life. A charming husband with a good job, he was just the catch back in the sixties. He was an older man and ha
d served his time in World War Two, returning home with medals and tales of valour that made him sound like a war hero. He had a family business that ensured he returned to good standing in society and all that was left was for him to find a bride.’

‘I guess you were the lucky lady?’

‘Lucky?’ she snorts. ‘Hardly, although I can certainly see why others had avoided the altar. At first I thought I was lucky, but it soon became apparent that good old Johnny boy liked control. The first time he hit me I was stunned beyond belief. I never in my wildest dreams thought he would be the kind of man to lay a finger on a woman. This was a man the country revered and respected.’

‘I’m so sorry, Jean. I never knew.’

‘Eh, it’s old news now. At the time, it was hard. In those days it was unheard of for a wife to report her husband to authorities. Females certainly didn’t seem to have the same rights as they do these days. Before the feminist movement we hardly had a voice. If a woman was in that kind of situation she just shut her mouth and kept on with things as best she could. I actually did hear of another woman who was abused by her husband and used to be part of the Lions Club where I did charity work. After she ratted him out, the community shunned her. She left town on the verge of a breakdown.’

‘That’s horrible.’

‘It was. I knew I didn’t want that for me, because it was hard enough to deal with the beatings at home, let alone have the community I lived in treat me like a leper as well.’

‘So what did you do?’

‘Well, for the most part, I just put up with it. After my fourth miscarriage from one of his more aggravated beatings, I decided enough was enough. Being childless was something that hurt more than his beatings, but in hindsight, it was probably a blessing. There is no way I would have wanted any children of mine having to put up with his horrific ways.’

‘But he died, right?’

‘Oh my, that was the happiest day of my life!’ Her eyes glint with tears, the memory obviously sparking raw emotion from her.

‘I bet. What happened?’

‘I killed him.’

‘You what?’
I yell, my disbelief echoing off the concrete walls of the deli.

‘I killed him. Oh, take that look off your face! I mean, I wished he was dead and all, but it was self-defence. Stupid bastard had come at me with a knife and tripped on the carpet rug on the floor. Can you believe it? Knife went clean through his chest!’

‘How does that mean you killed him?’ By now, I’m completely enthralled in her tale.

‘Well, I guess I could have called the ambulance. I mean, he begged me to, but, I was rather having too much fun just watching the bastard bleed to death. I think in the end he got his just desserts. I thought if God had decided it was his time then who was I to interfere with his fate.’ 

‘Shit, Jean, I think I just found a whole new respect for you.’

‘Well, love, I’m no warrior, because if I was I would have left him years ago. But what I want you to know is that being a victim of violence, it suddenly becomes very apparent to me when others are suffering the same fate.’

Silence hangs in the air. I know exactly what she’s saying to me and I don’t like it one bit. Not one little bit. The thought of anyone laying a hand on Evie makes my stomach churn. How could somebody want to hurt someone so pure? How could they want to bruise and batter someone so that they no longer are the same? The thought is a foreign concept to me, and yet, I suddenly have a raging passion to know so much more about Evie and what her life is really like.

‘So, what are you saying? Stay away?’

‘Simply put, yes. I love and care about you, Grayson, like my own son—the son I never had. You getting involved in all that mess won’t end well for either of you. Can you imagine the added pressure you will add to her life if you start to interfere? Or what would happen to her if the husband even found out about your ‘friendship’ as you call it? Believe me, men with tempers like that don’t take kindly to other men sticking their noses in their business.’

‘So I just walk away? Do nothing?’

‘You don’t even know her. Well, not properly, anyway. She hasn’t even come in lately, so I would say after your inquisition last time she’s staying well away. There are so many resources for abused women these days. I guess I’m still hoping that if women need the help then they’d get it.’

Jean goes back to unpacking the rest of the stock while I watch on. I know what she’s saying makes sense. I mean, it’s not like I want some psycho husband turning up on my doorstep. And yet, there is something fierce boiling inside of me that wants to right all her wrongs. I want to be there to fix her, to pick her up when she’s feeling down. More than anything, I want to see her smile. If she stays with a partner that’s abusive, that’ll never happen. He will just keep breaking down her walls until the woman that I glimpsed inside is gone forever. Right now, I don’t think I could live with myself if I were to let that happen. I need to be the one to help her. I need to be the one who will salvage what’s left of any kind of happiness inside her.

‘Jean?’

‘Mmm?’

‘Wouldn’t you have wanted somebody to fight for you?’

She stops abruptly and turns to me with compassion etched all over her wrinkly face. Her cool, papery hands stretch out to cup my cheeks.

‘My dear, you have a heart of gold. I’ve always known that about you. Just be careful with Evie; she may not want or need your help.’

I leave Jean to her unpacking while I go to unload the milk delivery. She’s right, of course. I know nothing about Evie or what she does or doesn’t need from me. One thing I do know is that what I feel for her is real, and her reaction to that only proves that she wants something from me
, too.

She may be damaged, but she’s by no means weak. This girl has fight and balls of steel. Despite her guarded ways, she wants to let me in, because every time I look into her eyes, they scream at me, ‘Set me free.’

 

Nine

ALEX

 

Something is definitely up with Evie. Perhaps it’s the important merger I’m working on right now which is keeping me busy, but I can’t rightfully place my finger on what exactly is amiss. I’ve questioned whether she’s too submissive—or not enough—but no, it’s neither of those things. I can only draw one conclusion from this evaluation, which is to say she’s doing something on middle ground—she’s being guarded.

But there are no secrets between us. Well, not on her part anyway. I’m the monster. I’m the one who bought her, and I’m the one who controls every single aspect of her life right down to what toothpaste she uses.

As much as I have confidence over my control over her, I think it’s time I put a set of eyes on her—just to keep my little dove in her cage. There’s no sense in allowing her to feel freedom, because it will never be so.

I place the call to Harry, or Lurch as Evie fondly refers to him. I’m being sarcastic, you know. I know she despises the man, and to be honest, he even gives me the creeps with his silence.  He’s sinister; he knows just about everything about a person but you never know how he found it out. Harry is the kind of man who has no qualms about getting his hands dirty. In fact, I would even say he enjoys it. And he’s loyal, too, which is just the kind of person I want on my payroll.

He agrees to come straight into the office to meet with me and Evie’s dad. Just lately, I get the impression that Jonathan Christie has been a little too loose with his lips. It could very well have everything to do with the copious amounts of alcohol the man has been consuming lately and nothing to do with his guilty conscience—but I doubt it.

I’m sure the man’s past decisions are eating him alive, although there is entirely nothing he can do about the dried ink. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s tried many times to ease his guilty conscience by unburdening himself and spilling his guts to his daughter. The contract is quite clear, though. If he were to tell Evie about our little deal, then all of his assets would immediately be seized by my company. I’m sure as much as he’d like confession, hi
s greedy nature will always outweigh any fatherly loyalties he may have felt at one time.

The knock at my door breaks my train of thought.

‘Yes, come in!’

I like it when my voice booms around my office. It’s authoritative and loud, enforcing that this is, after all, my domain. My secretary, Larissa, enters with Jonathan trailing behind. He always looks kind of pale at these little get-togethers we have. In his own home, he still seems to possess balls of some sort, and yet
every time I summon him all of his courage escapes him. I’m pleased my office has such an effect on him.

‘Jonathan! So glad you could join me today.’ I offer my hand, which he shakes reluctantly. ‘Sit,’ I command, at the same time dismissing Larissa with another demand. ‘Coffee, Larissa, and bring an extra cup as Harry will be joining us shortly.’

‘Yes, Mr Stratford.’ Her voluptuous frame teeters off on a dangerously high pair of heels to fetch our refreshments. I take my seat behind the desk, knowing full well I only appear all the more intimidating to Jonathan. I assume it reminds him of being in the principal’s office. I’m guessing he must have been there once or twice in his earlier days. Despite his obvious nerves, he still summons the courage to ask questions.

‘What’s all this about then, Alex?’

‘I was hoping you could tell me.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Well I’m very interested to know your opinion on something.’

‘And just what would that be?’

‘I want to know what’s up with Evie.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, you’ve requested we visit you a lot lately, wouldn’t you say? Much more in recent times.’

‘That’s my right, you
…’

‘Now, now, let’s not get testy. That could leave you in hot water. Since you’ve wanted to see your daughter so much lately, why don’t you tell me what you’ve observed of
her.’

His eyes drop to the expensive wool carpet on the office floor, hands wring in his lap while a distressed look comes over his face. He seems distant all of a sudden
—like he’s just gone far away where nothing can hurt him anymore. The reality is, he’s still here, and this little problem—me—is not going anywhere.

‘It’s
all your fault,’ he says.

‘My fault?’

‘Yes, you, you fucking bastard! Do you think I’m blind? That I can’t see the bruises you leave all over her skin? You’re an animal. I should have never let you anywhere near Evie—never!’

‘Tsk, tsk, Jonathan. Watch your temper in my presence. Perhaps that same temper is what has got Evie exactly what she deserves, hmm?’

‘Don’t you blame her for your shortcomings, you bastard!’ Tiny flecks of spit froth at the side of his mouth. He’s very angry—probably more so than when he first found out that he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life by signing his daughter over to me. I can see he needs a lesson in manners as well.

He’s not expecting it when I lunge at him and grab him by the back of his neck, slamming his cheek hard against the oak desk. A whoosh of air leaves his chest, the impact clearly winding him. Poor manners must run in the family and, like Evie, I’m going to maintain a firm hand.

‘Shortcomings? That’s almost laughable, Jonathan. Actually, you hit the nail on the head. That is precisely what I wanted to ask you about—your shortcomings. Tell me, have you told Evie about your shortcomings? How daddy dearest sold her out all because he couldn’t live without the fancy cars and expensive port?’ Jonathan’s eyes go wild, disbelief spreading across his worried features.

‘No, I did not.’ His voice is shaky and beads of sweat are forming across his forehead. Right now, he really does look like the spineless little creature he is.

‘Because, you know that our contract must be maintained at all times, Jonathan.’ My sing-song voice lulls him to relax beneath my grip, which is precisely when I attack.

Gripping the back of his neck with all my strength, I squeeze as hard as I can until his face starts to turn red.

‘I swear, Alex! I swear! I’ve never said a single word.’ He chokes out a tiny sob, clearly humiliated by the circumstances he finds himself in. For maximum effect, I lean in close and whisper in his ear.

‘See that you never utter a single word out of those lips of yours or you and your pretty wife will never see your daughter again, do you understand?’

‘Yes, yes, I understand.’

‘Good!’ I say, releasing him from my death grip. He sits back in his chair, afraid to move or say anything. Instead, he eyes me with loathing, unsure of what my next move will be. ‘Now, where were we? Oh, yes, Evie.
So, your thoughts, Jonathan? Has Evie seemed out of sorts to you?’

‘Diane spoke to me after your last visit. She mentioned that Evie seemed preoccupied, but she had no idea over what. You have to remember, she knows nothing about any of this. For God’s sake, she thinks her daughter is married to a saint and that she just happens to be the clumsiest person in the world!’ Jonathan is bordering on hysteria now. His anguish is clearly written all over his face.

‘Shh, shh. Let’s not ruin our perfectly nice discussion with more nastiness, shall we? You and I both know that your life wouldn’t be worth shit if Diane or Evie found out about the contract, so, let’s see that our little secret remains between the two of us, shall we?’

A sharp rap at the door alerts me to Harry’s arrival.

‘Come in!’

Jonathan spins around in his chair, alarmed by the sudden intrusion. I have to admit that the sight of Harry is a little imposing, and the effect is not lost on him.

‘Harry, so good of you to join us! Come, have a seat.’ He occupies the spare seat next to Jonathan without saying a word. He’s at least six-foot-four—a giant compared to the man cowering next to him. ‘Jonathan, you can leave us now.’ It’s not a request; it’s an order.

‘But
…’

‘You’re dismissed. Larissa will show you the way out.’

‘I can find my own way out, thank you very much!’ The wild and crazy look hasn’t left him as he grabs his coat and hat. He’s almost to the door when I stop him in his tracks.

‘Jonathan!’ He twirls around to face me, his hair in a shambles from the repeated action of running his fingers through it. It’s completely grey, and with a nervous habit like that, I’m surprised he has any left on his head at all.

‘Keep your mouth shut,’ I warn, tapping the side of my nose, a clear indicator that this is one secret he’d better suppress the urge to tell. He offers me a look of distaste before leaving my office without another word. The slam of the door almost makes me fly out of my seat so that I can chase him down the hallway and kick his arse for being such a stubborn, rebellious old fool. Instead, I leave him be so I can get back to more important business with Harry.

‘I want you to keep tabs on Evie.’

‘I already do that.’

‘Round the clock.’

‘I see. It’s going to cost you.’

‘Money is no object.’

‘I’m going to need to hire another guy to cover me for breaks and whatnot.’

‘No.’

‘Why?’

‘You don’t need to know why, but the less people who are stalking my wife the better. I don’t want her to even know you’re there. She already knows you and expects that you will be around from time to time but I don’t want her to know that I’ve stepped up her surveillance.’

‘Well that’s going to cost you even more. There’s a lot to be said for personal discomfort, you know.’

‘As I said, money is the least of your concerns. I’ll get Larissa to wire an advance to your bank account and you can get straight to business. Make yourself as invisible as possible
—but not too invisible. I want her to think the normal routine is still in place without her wigging on to the fact that you’re now on her arse twenty-four-seven.’

‘You got it.
Anything else?’

‘Yeah, keep a journal of where she’s going, what she’s doing and who she’s seeing. I’ll want a report on my desk by eleven pm each day.’

‘Right.’

He gets up and leaves without another word. I watch with steepled fingers, contemplating my next move. For the first time in our relationship, I feel insecure. Not about my power, or dominance, but rather, afraid that my hold on Evie might be unravelling just a little. Perhaps I’ve been too lenient? I’ll wait for Harry’s report before I make my next move. I don’t see it as unfeasible to restrict her outings even further, making her more isolated in our own home. In fact, there could be plenty of benefit in it for me. It could make her so starved for attention and love that she’ll do anything for me, and to me, just to get noticed.

A more devoted, passive and obedient Evie?

Sounds perfect to me.

BOOK: Salvage Her Heart
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