Her Forgotten Betrayal(30)

Her hands were clenched so tightly in her lap, her fingers ached. But she wasn’t moving an inch, not until they finished this latest battle.

A shadow fell across the doorway, causing her to jump.

“Cole!” she squeaked. “You’ve got to get out of here. You’ll make it worse. The only person he hates more than me is you. Besides, this is my fight.”

“I can’t believe you’re sitting here waiting for him to hurt you again.”

“I’m standing up to him this time.” She bunched her fingers in the pleats of her linen dress. The fabric itched and she hated it. She’d rather be wearing a comfortable T-shirt and jeans like Cole always did, but Father insisted this was what young ladies wore, even ones who were set to head off to college in the fall. Her brother got to wear what he liked. Why couldn’t she? “He can’t keep pushing me around or hurt the people I love and threaten me to get his own way.”

“You’re not responsible for stopping him. No one ever stops him from doing and saying whatever he wants to.”

Cole was right. She knew it. But she wasn’t backing down, even while she dreaded the coming confrontation. Cole always saw straight to the core of everything and everyone, even when his perception wasn’t welcome. And he spoke the truth. He didn’t care who didn’t want to hear it or accept it, even when that person turned out to be her.

It was part of why she loved him so much.

Even when they fought and disagreed, she always knew she could trust him.

“I won’t give up and let him win,” she said.

“He won’t stop until he crushes you. Until he runs you away from here or destroys you first. You can leave on your own, Shaw, with me. We can leave tomorrow. I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of everything. He wants your pride so he can stomp on that, too. Don’t give it to him. He doesn’t deserve it., I don’t care how important family is to you.”

Cole was only a year older than she was, but he was easily a decade wiser. He’d practically raised himself after his mother died and his father hadn’t stopped drinking long enough to plan her funeral. It had happened over the summer last year, and Shaw was thankful she had been there to help Cole take care of the arrangements.

He’d been basically on his own ever since. And what’s more, he didn’t seem to mind. He certainly didn’t understand, after everything they’d shared, why she’d want to fight for what little family she had left.

“He’s my blood,” she said, feeling the loneliness that had deepened within her since her grandmother passed. “I can’t give up on him. I’m going to stand up for myself this time, but—”

“I won’t let him hurt you anymore.”

Cole pulled her from the couch, into his hug—the best hug in the world.

“Shh…” he said when she moaned at the perfect smell of him.

Forest and fresh air and honesty and desperation—all of it, all of him, was there for her whenever she needed him. Cole wanted her. He was the only person in the world besides her grandmother who’d ever completely wanted her.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she said, clinging tighter.

“You’ll never have to find out. It’s going to be okay. I’ll wait here with you. I won’t say a word if you don’t want me to. But you don’t have to face him alone.”

She didn’t realize she was crying until he wiped at her face.

She’d been able to fight back the crazy, sick feeling she always got in the pit of her stomach each time she visited her father’s cold, sterile office. Until Cole’s touch had been there, and his warm voice, and his fiery determination to stand by her side no matter how badly her only remaining family treated her. She snuggled closer. Her arms wrapped around his neck. Her lips brushed against his in shameless need.

“Stay with me,” she pleaded, a second before his kiss healed every broken part of her.

His hands roamed down her back, tracing her rib cage. They cupped her breasts through her dress and cardigan. His groan told her he’d realized she hadn’t worn a bra. He loved the secret ways she found to rebel against her father.

“Shaw…” He said her name as if she were all there was, all there would ever be for him, as if this moment, every moment they could touch and feel and believe they would be together forever, was his whole world.

His hands dropped to her skirt, inching it upward. She gasped, then wiggled closer on her tiptoes, giving herself over to him and the moment, never mind where they were. He lifted her, held her suspended, and cradled as he turned, then sat on the couch with her in his lap, still kissing her.