“I’m counting on Brad finding out. I’m not afraid of that little prick.” The violence in Peter’s words shocked her. “No one should ever withhold food like that.” He dropped her cases and stood near a wall. She couldn’t tear her gaze away as he thumped the wall.
“Peter, don’t. You’ll hurt your hand.”
“I don’t give a fuck about my hand.” Peter turned to her, his hands cupping her face. “No one should ever do what they’ve done to you. He was wrong, and your parents were wrong to follow those orders.” He brushed her lips with his, and then they were walking down to the front door.
“Wait, I’ve got nowhere else to go. This is my only home, and I’m not cut out to be alone.”
Her mother’s past words stopped her in her tracks.
“You’re staying with me,” he said. “I would never let you go, Rose. You’ll be safe with me. I promise.”
He stopped to talk to her. She wanted to go with him, but her sudden fear held her back.
“Rose, if you stay here you’re going to end up married to Brad. When that happens, your voice will no longer be heard in this town. You know that, right?” he asked.
Tears filled her eyes. She got the message loud and clear. Once she married Brad no one would care. This was her only opportunity to get away from that.
“Get me out of here.”
Grabbing her hand, Peter led her out of her home, across town toward his car. Rose noticed several of the town locals stare at them. She dropped her head unable to meet their gaze. Peter didn’t seem to care.
“Let the bastards look. What will it take to get these people out of the dark ages?”
She wished she knew what he was talking about. Rose had lived this way her whole life and didn’t know any differently.
He helped her into the passenger side of the car. Once her case was in the backseat, Peter climbed in the front and pulled out of the parking lot.
“You shouldn’t be alone for some time. I don’t think Brad is going to take too kindly to this, and there’s something about him I don’t trust,” he said.
She didn’t argue. There was a cruelty to Brad, and she hated it. Being near the other man made her feel dirty.
“Thank you,” she said. Staring down at her hands, Rose couldn’t meet his stare. “I didn’t know what else to do. Before I knew what was happening I was engaged. They’d already quit for me at the library. I didn’t have a say in anything. I was alone.”
He grabbed her hand, squeezing her tight. “You’re not alone anymore. I’m here, and nothing is going to happen to you.”
In no time at all he was pulling into his private drive. “This is it, my home.”
Opening her door, she climbed out and went toward the back. Peter already had her case in hand. She waited for him to unlock the door, and they entered together.
He put her case down near the door. “I’ll settle you in a room shortly. First, you need to eat.” Peter took her hand once more, leading her to the kitchen. “I can’t do you a large breakfast. We’re going to start slow to bring your strength back, okay?”
She nodded. He left her to get a seat as he stared cracking eggs into a bowl.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“You’ve not eaten properly in some time. If I put too much food inside you quickly you’ll get ill. We’re going to settle on a two egged omelette and then build it up. I want you to eat small snacks and build your appetite back up,” he said.
“You know your way around a kitchen pretty good.” She smiled, trying to distract him from his obvious anger.
“I’m not angry at you, Rose. I’m angry at the town and your parents. They put you in real danger. You don’t deserve to be in danger.” He stopped whisking, leaning his hands on the counter. She noticed he was counting. “Parents should never do that to their kids.”
“I think Brad’s parents were paying mine. He wanted me to know how much control he had over the situation. I know it doesn’t help, but it’s what he wanted to me to know.”
Peter shook his head. “He’s a fucking coward and a loser. The boy pretends to be a man when all he’s doing is living off his dad’s money.”
Rose remained silent.
“Anyway, let’s get you fed.”
She stayed silent while he cooked. At home her mother did all the cooking, and it was foreign for her to see a man in the kitchen.
He brought over a plate, placing it in front of her. “Eat up. I know you’ll want more, but trust me on this.”
When would he realise that he was the only person she trusted? She couldn’t even bring herself to talk to the sheriff, and he was supposed to be there for people who needed him.