Hooker(44)

‘I’m fine,’ I say, forcing out a smile.

‘Are you sure? You don’t seem yourself. Has something happened?’

I shrug my shoulders as my gaze moves down to my lap.

He doesn’t pry any further, but reaches across the centre console to grasp my hand in his before giving it a comforting squeeze, there’s worry etched on his handsome face. I love that he cares. I’m pretty sure this won’t be the end of this conversation.

It’s a warm night, so when we arrive back at his house, he suggests that we sit on the back patio. After retrieving glasses and a bottle of white wine, he comes to sit beside me. It’s so beautiful out here. The patio overlooks a magnificent in-ground pool that has lights around the perimeter, illuminating it in the night. I can see the steam rising off the water from here, so I’m guessing it’s heated. The surrounding gardens, with their perfectly manicured hedges, are immaculate. I presume Brock has a gardener by the amount of work that’s gone into the landscaping. Running such a large corporation wouldn’t leave him much time to do it himself. The lounges and dining chairs have plush white cushioning, softening the space. There are a number of large black ceramic pots placed strategically around us. The beautiful greenery of the palms stand out against the dark furniture and tiles.

‘Here,’ he says passing me a glass of wine.

‘Thank you.’ Lifting the glass to my lips, I take a sip. ‘It’s lovely out here.’

‘Thank you.’ I feel his eyes on me as he sits back further into the chair. ‘Jade,’ he says suddenly, as he exhales deeply. ‘I don’t want to put any pressure on you—I get the feeling you have enough of that going on in your life already—but I wish you’d open up to me. I’m worried about you.’

‘I’m okay, honestly,’ I tell him, placing my hand on his leg. I’m touched by his concern. Maybe if I tell him what’s on my mind, he’ll relax. It’s probably wise that he knows she suspects something. ‘M is a little suspicious of us, that’s all. She warned me before coming here. If she finds out that there’s something going on between us, Brock, she won’t let me see you anymore.’ My gaze moves down to my glass. ‘I’d hate that,’ I whisper, because I would. Since I’ve met him, my life is so much richer.

He takes the glass out of my hand and places it on the table in front of us. ‘I’d never let that happen,’ he says, pulling me into his arms.

‘You don’t know her like I do,’ I whisper into his chest.

‘She doesn’t scare me, Jade. I’ve been around people like her all my life.’ There’s such conviction in his voice, but he doesn’t know M like I do. If only he knew the things she’s already done.

‘She scares me.’

He cups my face in his hands. ‘I’d never let her hurt you.’ His thumbs tenderly stroke my cheeks. ‘Never.’ The sincerity in his voice makes my smile. ‘How did you ever get mixed up with someone like her anyway?’

‘She adopted me when I was eleven.’ The words are out of my mouth before I even realise what I said. His hands instantly drop away from my face.

‘She what?’ There’s shock in his voice. He holds his palm up in front of me for a moment as he processes what I just said. ‘That woman is your mother?’

I shrug my shoulders. ‘I guess … well, kind of? My adoptive mother. My real mother died giving birth to me.’

‘Jesus.’ He abruptly stands and starts pacing. ‘Fucking hell.’

My stomach churns as I wait for him to calm down. Have I just ruined things between us by telling him the truth? Does he think I’m disgusting? Weak?

A few minutes pass before he stops. I’m sure my apprehension is showing as I gaze up at him. In one swift motion, he pulls me off the lounge and into his arms.

‘I’m so sorry, sweetheart.’ When he holds me close I can feel his body trembling against mine. I have no idea why he’s sorry. He’s done nothing wrong.

He clings to me for the longest time. Neither of us speak. I know I’ve already said too much, but I suppose my confession may help him better understand my situation, if nothing else.

‘How long?’

‘How long what?’ I ask, pulling back from him so I can see his face.

‘How long have you been subjected to this?’

‘I signed a contract with her when I was eighteen. I’ve been working for her for five years now.’

‘How long did you sign for?’ Even though there’s anger in his voice, the softness in his features tells me it’s not directed at me.