Sweet as Sin (34 page)

“What did he say to you, Murphy?”

“Who?”

“Alan.”

His shoulders snapped back as if she’d struck him, and he whipped his head to her.

“What did he say that makes you push people away?”

If it were possible for frost to travel in a look, his eyes managed the feat. Her stomach quivered with his chilled rage but she refused to look away.

The key worked even if the lock was rusty.

“Not a damn thing,” John spat. “This is just me, wanting to get away from you. Stop trying to make this something it isn’t. He has nothing to do with this.”

Livvy nearly cringed. She might have missed the trembling of his hands before he tucked them into his pockets had she closed her eyes. She’d not only touched a nerve, she’d twanged it like a banjo. “He has everything to do with
this
.
This
happens to be very important to me.
You’re
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important to me. He messed with your head and it’s affecting our relationship.”

“Are you deaf? We have no relationship! It’s over!” His lips peeled back over his teeth and his snarl was hurled with pure exasperation.

She flashed on when they met and the danger she’d sensed in him. A bitter ache rose from her stomach. Her lover stared at her like an enemy.

She’d be lying if she didn’t admit her knees shook in fear. But her love was stronger than her fright.

“And again, I’m still here. I’m not leaving you, Murphy. Not based on some twisted message your stepfather brainwashed you with.”

He yanked the zipper on his travel bag. “You don’t know a damn thing about it, so just shut up.”

Swallowing a lump the size of his fist, Livvy shook her head. He left her no choice. “Seven broken fingers, left arm broken twice, an unreported skull fracture, severely bruised kidney and spleen from a mysteriously never reported car accident—”

He whirled to her with a mixture of horror, fear and contempt etched on his face. “Stop it.”

But she couldn’t. “—at least six broken ribs, two treated second-degree burns, hairline fracture of the left orbital socket, dislocated patella, bruised collar bo—”

“Shut up!” His enraged whisper hissed like a cornered snake and he charged toward her.

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“—a total of one hundred and fifty-four

stitches, too many bruises to count, minor cuts and abrasio—”

“Shut up, you bitch!”

His palms smacked the wall on either side of her head with a thunderclap. She jumped, eyes crashing shut. Drywall vibrated behind her from the force of his hands. Violence radiated off his frame, and the sides of her throat collapsed, sticking together, preventing her lungs from working.

Trapped!

With massive arms on either side of her head and his broad chest in front of her face, the simple fact that he had killed before flashed in sudden vivid color. For the first time, she was afraid of John.

His stuttered breath scorched her cheek. Barely contained fury wracked his body and his mouth descended to her ear. His menacing voice petrified her.

“You missed a ruptured ear drum, a dislocated jaw, a broken nose and welts the size of garden hoses. Where the fuck did you find all that out?”

John was a big man, hard-muscled and furious.

Neatly pinned to the wall without touching him, her body tensed for flight out of instinct, her hands sliding along the wall behind her. But he Inez Kelley

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wouldn’t hurt her. Livvy knew this deep in her bones. If he’d wanted to, he already would have.

She raised her chin. The inhale she drew dried her mouth and she forced her limbs to slow their shaking. “Does it matter? I know and that’s enough. And I know some of the things he said to you, some of the terrible, evil things you had to listen to growing up. But what was it that scared you so badly? Why do you push people away?

Why won’t you let yourself be loved?”

His bowed head nearly brushed her cheek.

With a heaving shudder, his fury abated to distress.

His muscles relaxed although he didn’t move away. Tentatively, she pulled her hand from the wall and touched his cheek. His eyes were closed, jaw locked tight, but he didn’t jerk away. Livvy grew brave. She turned her head to him. The crackle in her words was a plea.

“Please, Murphy, tell me what he said that haunts you.”

In slow, jerky increments, his hands slid down the walls and cupped her shoulders. They circled her neck. He stroked his thumbs along her throat, up and down, never moving his head from her ear.

His whisper was nearly too soft to hear. “Do you know about that night?”

That night.
As if there was only one night ever in history. “I know you had no choice. I know that 380

Sweet as Sin

you spent two days in the hospital afterward. I know bits and pieces.”

Along her windpipe, into the hollow above her collarbone, up to her jaw, his thumbs caressed her like a rhythmic massage.

“He locked me out. Curfew was nine and I was late. Five fucking minutes late or it wouldn’t have happened. I’d have been there to protect her.

Instead, I had to smash the door in.

“I came in and Gina ran. That’s all I cared about, that she was safe. He threw the tea kettle. I jerked my arm up to guard my face and that’s when he hit. The broomstick was never far out of reach but this time I wasn’t backing down. If he went for her once, he’d do it again. I had to stop him.”

The muscles of his biceps were solid under her fingers. Her quaking fingers traced over his shoulders to the nape of his neck, soothing as much as he would allow. She pressed her cheek to his. He didn’t move away, and her first full tear fell.

Let the hurt go. Let me share your pain. Let me
share your healing. Let me love you.

“I don’t remember when I lost my glasses. I just knew that I couldn’t see. But I didn’t care. No way were we both walking out of that room. Then the broomstick broke. My back was finally stronger than the wood. He had to face me without Inez Kelley

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stepping out of reach. I got him down and wrapped my hands around his throat. The son of a bitch laughed at me. My blood was dripping on his face and he
laughed.
Do you know what he said?”

“Tell me.”

So close that her lips felt his swallow, she begged for his secret. John pulled his head to the right, just enough to graze his nose against hers.

Their eyes closed and they breathed as one, exchanging tear-salted air. His lips almost touched hers. His whisper caressed her in place of flesh.

“He said he saw a demon in my soul. I’d heard it for years but at that minute, I believed it.

Because I felt it—the rage, the anger, the hate.

Then he smiled and dared me to condemn myself to hell. Do you know what I did, Livvy? Do you know what I did to curse my eternal soul?”

She shook her head. He gave her one feather-soft kiss, then he opened his eyes. The air pinched from her lungs.

John tightened his grip around her neck. His thumbs pressed to her windpipe and his lips curled back in a feral sneer. Fright exploded like a cannon. Livvy’s hands flew to his forearms, nails scratching, as her eyes widened in fear.

He hissed into her face. “I snapped his fucking neck!”

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His last word echoed as air rushed into her lungs. His now-gentle hands around her throat were trembling as fiercely as she was, and he waited for her condemnation.

Livvy couldn’t deny she was frightened of John, more afraid than she had ever been. Tears streaked her cheeks and dripped onto his hands.

The urge to run coursed through her veins. She locked her shaking knees to halt the automatic flight response.

She couldn’t find any evil in his eyes. All she saw was hurt and sorrow, tinged with love. The burn in her throat came from her tears, not his thumbs. He’d barely pressed, just enough to scare her, a few seconds at most. There had been more pain in his lovemaking.

He wanted her to be afraid enough to run from him.

On a stroke of blind faith, she raised her chin and smiled at him, teeth chattering behind quivering lips. “Good.”

Shock sent him backward, his fingers falling from her neck, brow wrinkled in confusion.

Clarity surrounded her. If John had wanted to hurt her, he would have. But he hadn’t. He’d meant to scare her. He’d succeeded, but not enough to make her join the ranks of those who had shied from him.
Love doesn’t shy away from fear. It
erases it.

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“You did what you had to do. He’d hurt you enough, too much for mercy.”

“I don’t want your fucking pity.”

She pushed off the wall, walking close enough to feel the heat of his body. John shoved his shaky hands in his pockets.

“Pity? Is that what you think I feel? This is not pity. This is love.” Livvy’s eyes closed for a half second, her fingers running through her hair.

“You’re too smart to believe his lies. Curses only work if you let them. Don’t give him that power. I won’t. I’m fighting for us, for you and me. I’m not leaving you, so get used to it. If you’re going to hell, I’ll be right behind you.”

His eyes widened before narrowing. The front lock of his hair fell over his forehead like a canopy shading a sheen of sweat. It shimmied with his emotional shivering and she longed to push it back, have him smile that lopsided grin at her.

Instead, his mouth went thin and tight. “You never asked me where I went last night, Liv.”

The abrupt change of topic jolted her and her mind scrambled for a second. “No, I assumed you just went for a drive to think.”

“Don’t assume.”

Forcing words around the rock in her throat took effort. “Where’d you go last night, Murphy?”

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Just when she thought he wouldn’t answer, he inhaled sharply and blew out a slow breath. His trembling ceased. “I went to Emily.”

He slapped her with his words. Each syllable stung and she gaped at him. Denial raced forward, ripped the breath from her chest and darted out her mouth. “You’re lying.”

His eyes locked with hers and he shook his head. Truth rang in his simple motion. Deep under her ribcage, a cry formed but couldn’t escape. Her arms clamped across the ache in her belly. His image swam as her eyes spilled hot teardrops.

“Why?”

John pulled a hand from his pocket. A

crumpled white square was caught in two fingers and he held it to her. Like the serpent of Eden, she was afraid to touch it yet was mesmerized by it, drawn to it. She barely felt the thin paper through her numb fingers but the elegant red script sent a sharp fang bite of venom to her blood.

Emily Standish—call me anytime
with a phone number beneath.

“Her door is always open to me.” His voice and his face were stone hard.

Livvy struggled to breathe. She’d rather his hands were still squeezing her neck than the clench she felt around her heart. He loved her. He couldn’t have cheated. He’d promised. She trusted Inez Kelley

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him. There had to be some misunderstanding.

“Did you sleep with her, Murphy?”

A gulp worked his throat. If it was possible, sadness tinged his face before cruelty lifted his lip in a smirk. “There wasn’t much sleep involved.”

“You bastard!” A crack split the air and her hand throbbed before she realized what she’d done. Brilliant red, her handprint marred his cheek.

His frosted gaze raked over her. “Get out.”

A sob burst from her chest. He’d done it. He found the one way to shake her love for him, her faith in what they could have. Pain, fear, anger and nearly anything else she could have handled.

But never that. He knew it and used it to hurt her.

Shared secrets were twisted into a heartless weapon. He’d cheapened every second she’d trusted him.

Her feet touched the hallway and his voice barely reached her ears. “Liv.”

Frantic to escape, to curl into a ball of pain and gut-wrenching sorrow, she stopped. She waited with closed eyes, physically incapable of facing him.

“If you are pregnant…” The break was so long, she put her hand on the doorframe for support and turned to him. His back was ramrod straight as if he were waiting for a whip to crack. Then his shoulders slumped and his eyes closed. “…get rid of it.”

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“Go to hell.”

“Count on it.”

The sound of glass shattering from inside rippled across the lawn as her feet skimmed the grass. Livvy heard nothing except her heart screaming.

Chapter Fifteen

She flew from John’s house like the rabid hounds of hell were nipping at her heels. She wept bitter tears that did nothing to ease her. Her pain simply sank, taking root deep in her belly until she felt pregnant with the Rock of Gibraltar.

A quick call to Pam, a small lie about stomach cramps, and she spent the day alternating between sleep and sorrow. By the time Sunday rolled around, acceptance and resolve replaced the tears and she refocused her hurt-fueled energy. She cleaned her house from top to bottom, sending Andrea to Tow’s miniscule apartment to avoid her pity. In between spit curses at John—and herself for believing him—she polished and scrubbed until her hands were red. Her tears only flowed on the inside.

Monday found her at work long before sunrise and her employees wondered aloud if she were taking speed. Her only outward sign of anger happened when her eyes fell on the multicolored dragon on the splat board. Pam had just stocked the display rack with a half dozen Two For Play kits. Livvy pulled the tray out, dumped the entire lot in the garbage and slammed her office door.

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An hour later, she was filling crème puffs with rum-laden peach marmalade.

Only late at night did she allow her pillow to soak in the heartbreak of shattered dreams. A quick Google search and she had Gina’s address.

The army-green folder full of hurt and secrets got sent back with no word or note of explanation. If she could rid herself of the misery as easily, with packaging tape and confirmed delivery, she would.