Page 40 of All In Good Time
He had already infiltrated her world with this bullshit, but he was terrified for her to see it this close up. He wasn’t ready. He didn’t think he ever would be.
“I don’t think she’s hungry.” Test be damned, he couldn’t drag her down. He stepped up to her seat, grabbing onto her hand, and urged her to stand. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”
A loud bang rang through the small dining area and shook the table. Derek winced as Becca jumped, her wide expression turning to his father.
Mark had replaced his tapping fingers with heavy fists. His testing stare shifted to show his fiery outrage at Derek’s disobedience. “Sit. Down.”
Derek wanted to be brave, he wanted to walk away and show Becca he was strong. But he was just the cowering pussy his father told him he was, and he didn’t have it in himself to fight back. “Yes, sir.”
He didn’t want to let go of her hand. He wanted to pull it to him, to bring her closer when he felt the slight tremble in her fingers. This was all his fault. His father’s eyes watched everything he did, so Derek let go of her and sat in his chair beside her.
His father let the tension build up at the table, leaving them to stir and worry what would happen next. From the corner of his eye, Becca’s head bent down toward her plate.
She didn’t deserve this.
She deserved someone who had the courage to save her from this situation. And it wasn’t him. He couldn’t even save himself.
Mark clapped, and Derek bit his cheek to hide the scowl and hatred he felt toward the man. “Dig in.” He finally announced, clearly unbothered by the tension everyone else felt.
Derek followed his father’s lead, arranging his plate in the exact way his father did, careful to avoid any other comments. He ate when Mark ate, he paused when Mark paused. In the bitter situation, the food was tasteless.
Nothing was left on his plate by the end, just like his father. Becca had served herself very little, but her plate was clear as well.
None of them dared rise from the table until Mark excused himself.
The second he was out of the room, Derek rose and grabbed Becca’s hand again. By some mercy, it had stopped shaking.
Mal and Jennifer stayed quiet as Derek led Becca from the room and out the door without another word. Becca didn’t fight him. Her fingers wrapped tight around his, grasping him as hard as he wanted to hold onto her.
He didn’t even turn on the stereo, not in the mood to try and pretend everything was okay as he sped away from the curb—away from Mark—as fast as he could.
Becca shifted in her seat, her eyes traveling to him every few seconds. He couldn’t relax. Not until she was home safe. His jaw ached from the painful tension as he ground his teeth together.
“Derek.” Her gentle voice felt like a dagger. He couldn’t face her. She had now seen the inside of his world. She’d seen the results before, but now she’d seen what lay inside, and he couldn’t stand it.
“No.” He cut her off before she could offer any comfort or ask any questions. He was too weak to take it. “No talking.”
He would never understand how he could be so lucky, in his entirely unlucky life, to find Becca. She said nothing else. There was no pushing, there was no prodding.
In the corner of his eye, she nodded, and that was that.
She’d written him that note months ago, the one tucked away in his wallet, with the offer of silence or laughter. Now he needed silence, and she gave him exactly what he needed.
15
September 1985 | After
Derek was heavy. His body was full of hard-earned muscle after hours spent working on his car, and while it might look nice, it made it extremely difficult to get him up the stairs of Becca’s home. Even with her and Marty on either side, groaning as they made their way up the stairs.
It didn’t matter though. The effort and struggle was a grateful distraction from the ten minutes she had spent sobbing on the floor after Mark Stokes’s threat, disguised as a friendly visit.
Hopefully, it also distracted Marty, who had been so worried when she came back to the car with puffed red eyes. She told him it was Mark. He knew enough now to know that Derek’s father was not someone who should be taken lightly, and his concern about what had happened in the ten minutes she was with the man was valid. She told him that, physically, she was fine, but they needed to get Derek into the housenow.In case Mark decided to make another round in search of his son.
They both sighed in relief when they got to the top of the stairs and down the short hallway to the guest room.
Becca opened the door and led them the rest of the way to carefully place Derek on the plush bed.
It was amazing what he had slept through. She could imagine that the combination of alcohol and exhaustion and finally being someplace safe had taken a toll on him, and he would be sleeping for a while longer.
