Over the next two hours, I put what Nikki has revealed out of my mind and we are pampered with facials, manicures, and lastly, pedicures. I don't get my nails polished because I can’t stand it when they start to chip, but I love the color on my toes. It’s a French pedicure, but with a black tip instead of white. Once my feet are dry, Nikki and I depart and I head home.
I know I should think over the things I have learned today, but doing that will only hinder my good mood and welcome stress back into my relaxed body. No, thank you. I can mull over that at a later time.
SIXTEEN
The following afternoon I’m finally back at work, settling back into my routine. I’ve missed my sanctuary. I have missed having something to actually do. I give Jenny the day off, so I’m out front working behind the counter. I actually like these days, even though I’m on my feet most of the time. I’m never bored. I’m usually rearranging framed pictures and adding new ones so the place looks fresh and alive. Next week, I’ll start planning the next collection. I’m thinking Las Vegas.
“Damn it!” I holler after tripping over a brown box lying on the floor behind the front counter. I grab the glass counter top so I don’t hit the floor, but not before the corner of a large picture frame stabs my knee.
“Shit,” I spit out. That hurts.
“Is that really the language you want your customers to hear?” My head flies up and I freeze when our eyes lock on each other. How do people not see the evil in this man’s eyes? Thank God Jenny isn’t here. I wouldn’t want her here right now. But then again, I don’t exactly want to be in a room alone with him. I close my eyes briefly and take in a calming breath. He’s still standing on the other side of the counter when I open them back.
Fuck.
“Leave. I have nothing to say you.” I try for assertive, but I know I fail. My voice is breathy.
“Well, I have plenty to say to you, so no, I won’t be leaving, yet. You’ve ignored me long enough so I had to come to you,” he tells me as he walks up to the counter. I instinctively back up, but there is a wall behind me so I don’t get more than a foot or two away from him.
“What do you want?” I ask. My bottom lip is trembling, but there is no controlling it, so I bite down on it, hoping to calm myself. I want to flee, but I won’t get very far if I try to run. I’m still in reaching distance from him now.
“You and I didn’t get to catch up last weekend.” He has a sadistic smile on his face.
“We have nothing to catch up on. Now. Get the FUCK OUT OF HERE!” I yell at him. I won’t show weakness to him again. He reaches over the counter and grabs my arm, pulling me close to him. He has a firm grasp on me, but not so much that it will leave a mark. I inhale sharply which causes an intense pain to shoot through my ribs. They are mostly healed, but every time I take a quick breath, the pain lets me know it’s not completely gone.
“Do I need to teach you a lesson, Shannon? A lesson in respect perhaps?” His grey eyes are cold and I tense up, afraid of what he’s about to do to me. My mind flashes to the last time he said that.
“No,” I plead. So much for not showing him how weak I really am.
“Good,” he says as his eyes soften a little. “Now tell me, what have you told my son about us?” He pulls me even closer.
“Nothing. Please leave me alone. Please go,” I beg him.
“There’s my little beggar. I’ve missed you.” My face is only inches from his and then he plants a quick hard kiss onto my lips. Nausea hits me instantly and I think I’m going to be sick.
I pull back yanking my arm from his grip. Without thinking or considering the consequences, I slap him across the face with all the strength I have. Oh God, what have I done? Pure evil flashes over his face. I cover my mouth with my hand, shocked I let myself lose control like that around him.
“You’ll pay for that, bitch,” he says as he takes his right palm and rubs the area of his cheek that I slapped.
“No,” I whisper. I look around searching for anything that might help me if he attacks. There is no way I can reach the front door without running past him. The only thing in my reach is the picture frame that I hurt my knee on. Not much good it’s going to do. “Please, I’m sorry. I’ve kept my mouth shut all these years. I never told anyone. I just want you to leave.”
“Then why are you back? Why are you fucking my son? What is it you really want, Shannon?” His eyes are blazing and his lips are curved up in a snarl as he stares at me, waiting for a response. Does he think I’m with Nick to get at him somehow? What would give him that idea?