Page 20 of The Marine

When he turned to me, I was expecting to see anger, instead he handed me his ice cream and said, “Here. We can share.”

I’m sure my eyes filled with tears that day, but he looped his arm around my shoulder after kicking sand over the discarded ice cream and pointed across the road.

“There,” Aidan said, and I spotted the random boutique looking hotel. “I want to take you there one day.”

Casa de Venice.

My heart blossomed.

Two weeks later, we spent a night in one of their beautiful rooms and made love for the first time. It was the most special night of my life.

After hours of the most amazing sex, we listened to the waves as we lay in each other arms, grinning stupidly at each other.

I don’t even know if it’s still there.

It’s one of my happiest memories.

I never told Aidan about my home life, and while I was an expert in covering up bruises and pain, I knew one day he would find out.

Dad had been getting angry less and less as I got older and,stupidly,I’d begun to believe it would stop.

I was wrong.

Months into my relationship with Aidan, Dad had been drinking a lot at dinner. I’d seen the signs starting: his raised voice at the TV, yelling at Mom for moving the coffee table—it wasn’t moved—and then I heard something being smashed in the room.

Familiar fear sliced through me, even from down the hall in my bedroom, and I quickly put on my shoes and grabbed my jacket. Leaving Mom with him always left me with guilt, but then again, she never stopped him from beating me. Not even when I was very little.

That night I reached the front door when Dad appeared in the doorway.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going, you little slut?” Dad had growled drunkenly.

“Nowhere. I was going to check I locked the car.” I had lied.

The risk of opening the front door was often worth it. But one that didn’t pay off that night. He ripped my hand off the door handle, and I screamed as my wrist snapped.

The piercing sound snapped him out of it enough to divert his attention to my mother, who came running. Both of us ended up in the ER that night.

Me with a broken wrist, her with a black eye.

We were both used to tag teaming our lies, and they just fell from our lips when asked.

Aidan had been harder to lie to.

I had to conjure up some story about sliding on the path outside and being clumsy. That was the first time I knew he suspected something.

His questions started.

Looking back, I guess neither he nor my father would ever have liked one another. Aidan always has had an innate need to protect me. My father, the polar opposite.

Eventually it all came to a head.

My phone rings, startling me. Dropping my salad, I slide the screen and answer, “Hey.”

Crunch, crunch.

“Jesus Briar. Are you eating?” Kael growls and my stomach lurches.

Hello, fear, my familiar friend.

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