Page 58 of Hold Me Before You Go

“You’re Grayson’s light, Carrie,” he said, finally looking in my eyes.

This man was killing me. “I’ve been through worse,” I assured him, my voice thick.

Did he know about my past? About the hell I’d endured?

“When he gets here, he’s going to see those cuts and bruises and lose his ever-loving mind,” he added gruffly, shaking his head as he crossed his arms, his hat still in hand. “You need to be prepared for that.”

My eyes widened. “When he gets here? Grayson is—he’s going to come here?” I asked, my voice cracking as hope bloomed in my chest.

Mags’ head cocked to the side as his brows came together, giving me a puzzling look. “What do you mean? Did you think I was going to kick you out? Send you into the frozen hell outside?” he asked.

I opened my mouth and then closed it. “N-no? I just figured you and Denver would find a way to get me home as soon as possible.”

He stared at me.

I looked away from him for a second, reading his silence like a billboard. “That was a stupid assumption, wasn’t it?” I whispered.

Mags nodded once as a muscle jumped in his cheek.

“Right,” I mumbled, looking at my lap and biting the inside of my cheek.

I heard the wood floorboards creak, and then he grunted, “I’m going to make some grub. Stay put and get warm. After that, I’ll get some clothes for you from the main house, and then you can shower.”

When I looked up again, I saw his hat and coat on the hooks by the door, and he was in the kitchen, his back to me, lighting the gas stove.

I guess that conversation was done.

There were so many more questions I wanted to ask him, but I kept my mouth shut. Both of us remained silent as he cooked while I stared at the fire, my body finally able to relax as I laid my head back against the armrest. I was safe here. I didn’t have to constantly be on guard.

Before I knew it, I was drifting off to sleep…

“You don’t understand. You could never understand,” Robert roared from the other side of the bedroom door as I made my way towards it slowly, flinching at the harshness of his voice.

I clutched my bag to my side as I listened. I’d been looking for him everywhere since I’d gotten home from having lunch with my father. A lunch I didn’t want to go to, but Robert insisted that during election season, it would be good for me to be seen out with my father, to paint him as a family man.

That was the last thing my father was.

I’d spent the duration of the meal avoiding looking at my plate and taking a small bite every two minutes on the dot, just like I was instructed to do from a very early age. If I looked at the food, I would want more of it. Of course, that was because Robert didn’t make me my breakfast this morning. He’d seemed erratic, on edge, having gotten home from work at almost one in the morning last night.

So, I went to lunch with my father like a good daughter and a good wife, thinking it would put Robert in a better mood.

When I got home, I figured he would be in his office or on the couch.

He wasn’t.

“She could never understand. I had to make her understand, but you…you will never understand,” he barked out. “No, don’t fucking tell me what I can and cannot do!”

He must be on the phone.

“Robert?” I called, putting my hand on the doorknob and twisting it. The door swung open, and I gasped at the sight of him.

He was shirtless, wearing his navy slacks and socks, his belt undone. His smooth chest and small abs were…stained.

My eyes lingered on the dark pink as my mind tried to form a coherent thought. Robert finally noticed me, and his eyeswidened just a fraction before his entire face morphed, anger painting it. “What are you doing here?” he growled.

I looked down to his tainted skin. “What is that? Is that blood?” I whispered, my eyes bouncing from his chest to his eyes.

Was that blood?

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