I sat up straight and looked him in the eye. “Adam, I love you. I want to be with you…all the time.”
He smiled and damn if it wasn’t contagious.
“Katelyn, there’s one more thing I want to ask you.” My heart stopped when he went to stand, but before he could even push his chair out all the way, his eyes locked on something behind me. The normally pale blue of his eyes turned dark. He sat back down in his chair. Adam’s brow broke out into a sweat and the hand on the table curled into a fist and began shaking slightly.
“Adam?” I whispered and reached for him, but he jerked his hand away.
I looked over my shoulder. The only thing I saw was a tall, elegant older man. Gray hair, lean frame, and a sinister face. He wore an expression a politician might, like he was constantly looking for a different angle to argue. When the man’s eyes locked on us, he looked briefly stunned, then smiled and walked over.
Adam’s nostrils flared and his jaw clenched.
“Son, it’s been a long time.” The man reached out to shake Adam’s hand.
Son? I stared at Adam. His face was locked into ice. He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. It was as though he’d been hit by a taser gun.
“He never did have good manners,” the older man chided when Adam didn’t accept his handshake. The man’s attention turned to me. “I am Roger Stevenson, Adam’s father.”
“Step,” Adam snarled.
He nodded at Adam. “Yes. Stepfather.”
I glanced between Roger and Adam. Adam looked tense and pale. I stood, putting both hands on the table, and faced Roger fully.
“You need to leave.”
“Excuse me, young lady?”
“I said, leave.” I stepped close enough so that I was face to face with him. Fury boiled over and I looked Roger in the face with all the hatred and rage I felt. “Get the hell away from him. Now.”
He had the grace to look shocked and unnerved. He leaned in, crowding into my personal space. I didn’t flinch or back away. I wasn’t about to let this man threaten me or Adam.
“Do you have any idea who you’re talking to, young lady?” His voice was low and dark.
“I’m talking to a disgusting coward who thinks he can get away with hurting a child and using his size to intimidate others.” I stepped even closer. “You don’t scare me. Now get away from us.”
“No need,” Adam growled. He rose so quickly that his chair crashed behind him. He reached for me and grabbed my arm. He nearly sprinted with me out of the restaurant and into the town car, never once looking back.
The moment we got into the backseat and the chauffeur started away, Adam’s demeanor shifted to an even darker place. He was quiet. Deathly still. His fists were balled in his lap and he stared straight ahead.
I was beyond worried. I didn’t know what to say. I reached for him, wrapping my arms around his middle, hugging him tightly to me.
He didn’t move.
I hunched down, trying to coax his gaze to meet mine. I held his face in my palms, trying to comfort him, trying to get his eyes to focus on me. He didn’t budge. It was as though ice had crept through him and frozen him from the inside out. His blue eyes were stark and void, staring at nothing.
“Adam, Adam honey, look at me.” Cupping his face, I kissed his cheeks, his chin, his jaw. “He’s gone.” I placed a small kiss on his lips. “He’s gone, honey. I’m here. Look at me, please.”
His jaw clenched so tightly that I thought he would crack his teeth. He didn’t move his head, but finally his gaze unlocked from its trance and focused on my face.
“There you go. Just look at me.”
As if pulled from a spell, Adam shot forward and pushed me back on the seat. He shoved my legs apart and ripped off my panties in one swipe. I didn’t even have time to register what was happening. He unzipped his pants and plunged inside of me. I wasn’t ready for him and the invasion burned. He growled and fisted my hair in his hands. He thrust harder, deeper, as if trying to fuck away the memory of whatever had just happened.
I couldn’t move. A trickle of something simmered in my gut and the buzz of anxiety spread.
Fear.
I had never felt it with Adam before.
He was hurting, and I didn’t know how to help him. So I lay there. Trying to hold on to him. Trying to be that safe place for him to land. But he was racked with tension. Grief. Hatred.
I wouldn’t push him away. Wouldn’t leave him. Whatever his demons were, I would be right by his side fighting them. I clutched him, hoping he could feel me, feel my love and know I was there. That’d I take his hurt if I could.
He didn’t relent. He kept going. The sounds that came from him were more like those of an animal than a man. Harder and harder—until finally he came. He groaned as if it had caused him pain.