Page 30 of Redemption

God, he’s so devastatingly handsome, my chest constricts. Any traces of boyhood are long gone. His jaw is stronger now and lined with heavy stubble. His shoulders are broader, and his arms have significantly more bulk. As Beck clenches his fists tightly, I can’t help remembering how those hands easily spanned my torso. How his calloused fingertips felt gliding along my bare skin. Lighter streaks weave through his dark blond hair, producing memories of all the times I’d run my fingers through those thick strands, as Beck hummed in appreciation. My hands itch to do just that, to see if it’s just as silky as I remember, then I remind myself this man is no longer mine to touch.

Although, if I simply looked into his eyes, I’d have all the reminders I needed. The dark chocolate colored orbs I spent so many hours staring into belong to a stranger now. They’re harder. Wiser. Shadows lurk beneath the surface, hinting at the many secrets living within. The one thing that hasn’t changed is how expressive they are. Growing up, Beck’s eyes usually glittered with humor, or love, or heat. None of those emotions are present as he looks at me now. He’s rough around the edges like I suspected he would be, but I wasn’t in any way prepared for this. I would’ve never imagined the boy I loved half my life was capable of feeling such contempt toward me. I swallow a lump in my throat as I absorb the impact of his glare.

“That you finally came back.”

My skin tingles with awareness as his eyes leisurely roam my body. Okay, so the lust might still be there, but it’s clearly laced with revulsion.

“What happened to your arm?”

I startle from the question. My shoulder still has a ways to go before it’s healed, but I’m no longer wearing my sling, so I’m not sure how he can tell something’s wrong.

“What do you mean?”

He nods toward my left side. “You’re favoring your right arm. Looks like you’re avoiding using the left entirely.”

“I got mugged,” I lie. “Dislocated my shoulder when I fell down.”

“Ah, the joys of living in the big city,” he mocks. I glare back at him, but it doesn’t seem to faze him. “Where’s your husband?”

“New York,” I snap. “His work keeps him very busy.”

I’m so afraid he’ll see right through me, I mentally erect my protective barrier. It’s something I’ve excelled at over the years. It was the only way I could survive my marriage. I’d force myself to withdraw… to become remote as if I wasn’t really inhabiting my body when Sebastian was working through his rage.

“How long are you in town, Presley?”

“Why does it matter?”

“It doesn’t. Not to me, anyway. I’m simply wondering how much longer I’ll have to tiptoe around you. It’s making my job a lot harder than it needs to be, and that’s getting tiresome real fast. You’ve been here, what? Almost two weeks now? I’d imagine your husband misses you back home.”

I shift slightly as my shoulder muscles tense. I’m sure the only thing my husband misses is the control he had over me. I highly doubt he’s missing sex, considering the deputy mayor is gladly providing that service.

“I never said you had to tiptoe around me.”

His full lips turn up in the corners. Like his eyes, Beck’s smiles are capable of saying many things without speaking a single word. This is his I know something you don’t smile.

“Maybe not. But somebody did.”

What? “Who?”

“C’mon, Presley. I thought you went to New York to get an education. Use your brain.” He snaps his fingers. “Oh, but wait, the way I hear it, you dropped out after a year to become a socialite, so maybe your brain isn’t accustomed to such strenuous activities. My bad.”

God, who is this guy? The Beck I knew would never fling an insult at a woman. Any woman. He was the true definition of a southern gentleman. I know I can’t maintain this fake bravado for much longer. The last thing I need is for Beckett to see the truth about why I’m here, so I decide to step the bitchiness up a notch.

“What do you want, Beckett? You obviously sought me out for a reason. Just get it out so I can move on with my day. I don’t have time for your bullshit.”

His jaw sharpens as the vitriol flows from my mouth. He pulls a ball cap from his back pocket and takes a moment to fix the brim before placing it on his head. Looking me straight in the eye, Beckett delivers a verbal sucker punch that hurts worse than Sebastian’s fists ever did.

“Naw, darlin’,” he sneers. “I don’t want anything from you. Do us all a favor and head back to New York sooner rather than later.”

Beck turns around and slowly walks away, rapping his knuckles against the doorframe as he leaves the stable. There’s a toughness to his gait that wasn’t there before. His movements used to be so fluid, he practically had a full-time swagger. His personality drew you in without any effort whatsoever. There was a lightness to him that attracted complete strangers, hoping for a chance to bask in his warmth. His kindness and affection were given freely.

Nothing about this Beck is approachable. He’s made up of bunched muscles and hard edges. Anger radiates off him in waves. This guy slings words meant to cut deep, but the harshness of those words pales in comparison to that look in his eyes. The one that says I’m inconsequential. That none of the good we shared matters. That I’m nothing more than a vapid gold digger, undeserving of his time. I’ve never felt so small in my life, and that’s saying a lot considering how often Sebastian belittled me.

The last time Beck and I saw each other, I was the one walking away, breaking his heart in two. If he felt even half as bad as I do now, I hate myself even more for putting anyone through that, especially him.

Chapter Nineteen

Presley

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