Chapter One
Present Day
~Savannah~
Two years.
It’s been two years since the day I thought I was going to die, but instead I was set free.
I didn’t sleep last night, but that’s not new. I haven’t been able to sleep well in years. It’s probably the biggest thing that I still carry with me from my marriage, and no matter what I do, I can’t seem to change it.
But compared to where I was two years ago, not sleeping great is not worth complaining about.
I stare at myself in my vanity mirror, my brush clenched in my white knuckles and search my unblemished face. I can still see the bruises from that last beating. The marks around my neck from where he savagely strangled me. The wet hair from the tub where he tried to drown me. I can still feel the humiliation when my siblings came running into the bedroom after I called them for help.
Even Ben came, and that was the biggest humiliation of all. I never wanted anyone to ever see me like that, especially the man that I’ve loved my entire adult life. For a moment, I’d almost wished that Lance had done the job of killing me, just so I wouldn’t have to see the absolute fury and disgust in Ben’s face.
These two years have gone by in the blink of an eye, and yet, there were moments when I thought the days moved like a glacier. I spent many months living with family, afraid to be alone. I’ve been through hundreds of hours of therapy, and I take a self defense class every week.
I grin at myself in the mirror.
I’m here, I’m alive, and I don’t look like I’m going to break at any moment.
My cheeks have color, my hazel eyes look happy, and my lips curve up in genuine smiles again.
Thank God.
My mom and most of my siblings have already sent me texts this morning, sending words of love and encouragement. Just as I raise the brush to my hair my phone beeps again.
It’s my twin brother, Declan.
I love you.
I grin, not willing to let any tears fall today, whether they’re from sadness or happiness, and reply.
Love you more.
I wouldn’t have made it through the months after the incident without my family. That’s not me being dramatic, it’s simple honesty.
Without them, I would have lost my mind.
My phone pings again and lights up, catching my eye. But this time, it’s not a sibling.
It’s Ben.
“And cue the freaking butterflies,” I whisper as I check the message.
Lunch?
I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and grin. Ben’s a man of few words, especially when it comes to the telephone. He’s really much better in person.
Except, when I’m with him, I’m the one who ends up being tongue-tied. Holy Jesus, the man has had the same effect on me since I hit puberty.
All rational thought is gone, and all I want to do is climb him like the big oak trees out at my sister’s inn.
Ben has been best friends with my brothers since they were young boys, so he was always at my house, and I would come up with any reason I could think of to be where he was.
Much to my brothers’ dismay.
But then he went off to college, and our lives didn’t cross much for a few years. I eventually went to college myself, in Tennessee, and met Lance there.
I frown at myself in the mirror.
“Don’t even think that asshole’s name.”
I punch out a quick response to Ben and grin when he immediately replies.
Usual place, 1:00.
Yes, sir. I laugh as I close out the text and wander into my closet to choose my outfit for today. I decided to take the day away from the office. A woman doesn’t escape from the worst horror of her life every day. It should be celebrated.
The alternative is to overthink and get broody, and I’ve done that way too much over the past two years.
I deliberately select something that he would have never let me wear. A pretty pair of blue cropped pants with a white, sleeveless button down top and red ballet flats. He would have said that I was showing too much skin. Even in the hottest summer months I wasn’t allowed to wear sleeveless tops, or skirts shorter than my ankles. It’s wonderful to have a large wardrobe full of pretty things that I love. I reach for my red Louis Vuitton handbag to match my outfit and finish pulling myself together for the day.
And then my phone rings. It’s Larry, my ex-husband’s brother. Despite the bullshit his brother put me through, Larry has maintained a relationship with me. He was always kind, and I’m glad to still have him in my life. My family was hesitant at first, but Larry has always been respectful, only being around as much as we’re all comfortable with. How he was raised in the same house with his brother and didn’t turn out completely evil is beyond me.
“Hello?”
“Hey there, hot stuff,” he says, making me laugh. “How are you today?”
“Never been better,” I reply and grin as I realize that it’s not an exaggeration.
“You sound great.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “Is it weird that I thought I should check in on you today?”
“Not at all; all of the other important people in my life have done the same. I figured everyone would forget.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “No one will ever forget, Van. If I had known—”
“We’ve been over this a thousand times, Larry. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Right. You’re right.”
“I know. Thanks for checking in. I really am doing great.”
“I’m glad. If you need anything, you know how to find me.”
“That I do. Thanks again.”
We end the call, and I sit on the ottoman in my closet and just look around the space. I bought this place about a year and a half ago. I never went back to the house that Lance and I owned together. Instead, my family was happy to have me stay with them until I found this house.
Declan and I have enjoyed renovating it, making it exactly right for me.
I check the time and realize that I’m running late, so I grab a pair of sunglasses, my handbag, and keys, and hurry out to my car.
Even my car is new. He wouldn’t ever let me get the car I wanted because he said it was too much money, that I didn’t deserve a luxury car.
Which is just ludicrous. I work my ass off, and my family is worth billions. I can have any car I fucking want. So, one of the first things I did after the divorce was trade in my sensible Ford for the pretty Mercedes convertible I drive now. It’s red and has all the bells and whistles.
Just one more way to flip off my shitty past.
It’s a beautiful spring day in New Orleans. The trees are blooming, there’s a breeze in the air, and birds sing as I drive toward the French Quarter with the top of my car down.
Despite my best efforts, I still arrive ten minutes late, and all of my sisters and sisters-in-law are already at the restaurant.
“I’m sorry,” I say, taking my seat. “I was moving slow this morning.”
“As you should,” Kate says with a smile. “Eli sends his love.”
“He texted,” I reply. Kate is married to my older brother, Eli. They recently welcomed a beautiful baby girl named Coraline to our family.
In fact, our family has gone from big to huge in the past two years. It seems that once Eli met Kate, each of my siblings found loves of their own, right after each other. I couldn’t be happier for all of them.
“I’m being spoiled today,” I announce. “I’m having brunch with all of you beauties, and then I’m having lunch with Ben.”
“Really,” Gabby, the youngest Boudreaux sister, says with a smile. “As in a date?”
“As in lunch,” I reply and roll my eyes. “You know as well as I do that Ben is off limits.”
“Why is that again?” Callie, Declan’s wife, asks.
“She’s delusional and thinks that Ben is like a brother to her,” Charly says.
“He is,” I insist, frowning.
“No, he’s not,” Gabby replies. “He may be like a brother to Charly and me, but you never thought of him that way.”
“I think you’re the delusional one. Ben and I are good friends, and that’s it.” My argument sounds weak to my own ears. But that doesn’t make it less true.
“Right,” Mallory, my oldest brother, Beau’s wife says. “So that’s why you blush at the mention of his name and bite your lip?”
“Mallory is psychic,” Callie says excitedly. “She can tell you if you’re supposed to be with Ben.”
“No.” My voice is firm as I stare each of them down. “Stop it. Ben is my friend, and I’m not going to fuck that up. If we tried to have a relationship and it didn’t work out, he’d be out of my life completely and I can’t have that.”
“Okay,” Gabby says, holding her hands up in surrender. “What are you doing after lunch?”
“I have a full day of pampering ahead,” I inform them proudly. “And I’m not going in to the office at all.”
“Atta girl,” Kate says with a wink. “You deserve a day off.”
“I also deserve a mimosa.” I grin and search for our waitress so I can flag her down. “In fact, we all deserve a mimosa.”
“Excellent plan,” Charly says. When we all have a drink in front of us, Charly raises her glass in a toast. “I know we’re only focusing on the good today, and every day, and I have to say this.”
We raise our glasses with her.
“You’re the most amazing person I know, Van. It’s been an honor to watch your journey these past couple of years. I couldn’t be more proud of you.”
“Here, here,” Kate says with a nod. “You’re one tough bitch, my friend.”
I giggle at that and clink my glass to the others. “I’ll take that compliment.”
“Hell, yes, you will,” Callie says before sipping her drink. “There are only great things for you ahead.”
“She’s right,” Mallory says with a knowing smile. I frown and she holds up her hands in surrender. “I’m not reading your future, silly. I can’t do that. I’m simply agreeing that you’ve already been through hell. It’s going to get much better going forward.”
“I’ll take that as well,” I reply with a nod. “Here’s to a good life.”
“A good life,” the others happily chime in.
***
I’m so damn full. I forget how I can sit with those women for hours, with never a lull in the conversation. We eat and drink and eat and drink and laugh.
So, I’m rushing directly from brunch to lunch with Ben.
I may not be hungry for food, but I wouldn’t cancel this date for anything in the world.
I walk into the restaurant we started coming to about a year ago and search the room for him. His back is to me, but I’d recognize him anywhere. He’s tall, with super broad shoulders and muscles for days.
For. Motherfucking. Days.
God bless him.
He glances over his shoulder and sees me walking toward him. A smile instantly spreads over his face as he stands and holds his arms open for a hug in greeting.
He’s so damn strong and warm, I could stand here in his arms forever. But the hug ends quickly and he holds my chair out for me.
“Hi,” he says with a grin.
“Hello there.” I glance up to find him studying me with narrowed eyes. “Do I have something on my face?”
“You’re flushed.” He rubs his lips with his fingertips. “Have you been drinking?”
“Yeah, I just came from brunch with the girls and we may have had a mimosa or four.” I giggle and set my menu aside. “I’m so full. I’m sorry, Ben, I can’t eat another bite, but you should eat.”
“I plan to,” he replies. “We could have rescheduled this.”
“No, it’s okay. I haven’t seen you in a while. How are you?”
“I’m good.” He nods as he sets his menu aside. The waitress arrives to take his order, and it’s a good thing I didn’t want anything because she never takes her eyes off of Ben.
The bitch.
She flushes and does a freaking curtsey after taking his order, then hurries away.
“You have a fan.”
“A what?” he asks, completely clueless.
“Nothing.” I shake my head and sip my water.
“How are you today?” he asks.
“I’m fantastic.” I grin as he narrows those blue eyes and studies me for a long moment. “I’m not lying.”
“I can see that,” he says at last, and his shoulders relax, as though he’s been carrying the weight of the world on them.
“I need your help, Ben.”
“Done.”
I cock a brow. “You don’t know what I need, exactly.”
“Doesn’t matter, it’s yours.”
I grin and lean over so I can pat his hand. “You’re very good to me, you know.”
“I know.” His smile is smug and happy. “What do you need, Vanny?”
“Well, I need you to stop calling me Vanny.”
“Not gonna happen.”
“And I need to know who you go to for your tattoos.”
He spits the sip of water he’s just taken and begins to cough, choking.
“Whoa, are you okay?”
“That’s the last thing I expected to come out of your pretty little mouth.”
Just the way he says pretty little mouth makes me break out in a sweat.
Why, for the love of all that’s holy, am I so damn hormonal around this man? It must be a chemical response. I was never good at science, but that has to be it.
“I’m serious,” I reply and will my lady parts to stand down. “I already have a design in mind, but I don’t know where to go.”
“Is this your first tattoo?” he asks.
“No,” I reply. “But I didn’t get mine here in New Orleans.”
He leans toward me, giving me his full attention. “Where did you get it?”
“In Tennessee.”
“No, I mean, where is it on your body?”
I bite my lip and shuffle the silverware around on the table. “That’s personal.”
“Look at me.”
I comply and almost melt into a puddle at the sweet smile he’s giving me.
“You can tell me.”
“So, tramp stamps were in when I was in college.”
“You have a tramp stamp?”
“No, I just said they were all the rage when I was in college.”
He blinks slowly, as if I’m not making any sense and he’s trying to keep up. “Okay.”
“But I thought it looked painful to tattoo the low back, and while I understand that no tattoo is a walk in the park, I didn’t want to do it in that spot. Also, I didn’t want my dad to ever see it, and sometimes I wear a bikini.”
“You do?” He frowns.
“Yeah.” I nod and brush it off like it’s not a big deal.
“So where is it, Van?”
I bite my lip again. “On the back of my neck.”
“And your dad never saw it?”
“No, I’ve always had longer hair, at least long enough to cover my neck, and I just made sure I didn’t wear ponytails when I was with him.”
“You’re a rebel,” he says with a smirk.
“A respectful rebel,” I reply. “Will you give me your guy’s number?”
“I’ll do better than that. I’ll take you.”
“No.”
I’m shaking my head vigorously.
“Why not?”
“I don’t want you to see me get this tattoo.”
“Why?”
“I just don’t.”
“Okay, I’ll text you his number.”
“Thank you.”
“What are you doing after this?”
“I’m going to get my hair cut.”
I’m so fucking excited!
He frowns again. “Why?”
“Because I’m a grown ass woman and I want to.”
“Whoa,” he says, sitting back and holding his hands up in surrender. “Do whatever you want with your hair.”
“That’s the plan. I know you like it better long.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You did when I was fifteen,” I murmur and smile at the memory. “But it’s okay. It’s my hair.”
He tilts his head to the side, watching me. “Did that asshole make you wear your hair long?”
I will not cry today.
“He made me do a lot of things.”
His eyes flare with anger and he pushes his plate away. “He deserved much more than what I gave him that day.”
After Lance tried to kill me, the coward ran. My brothers and the police were looking for him, but Ben found him first.
And beat the fuck out of him before making him turn himself in to the police.
“He doesn’t even matter,” I reply softly.
“No. He doesn’t.” He sighs and reaches over to touch my hand. “I’m proud of you.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
His blue eyes hold mine. “Yes, you did. You didn’t just survive, Van. You thrived. You’re the strongest person I know, and I’m damn proud of you.”
I will not cry today.
I smile brilliantly at this incredibly handsome man who also happens to be the sweetest I’ve ever known.
“Thank you. That’s the second time I’ve heard that today.”
“You’re welcome. It’s fucking true.” He stands, throws some cash on the table, and holds his hand out for mine. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“I just want to walk with you for a little while.”
“Okay.”
We don’t say much as he leads me through the Quarter and past Café du Monde, then over to the river. It’s still early enough in the season that there aren’t swarms of people everywhere.
It’s actually relatively quiet today.
“Are you okay?” I ask and slip my hand into his, enjoying the zing of electricity as it makes its way down my spine. “You’re quiet.”
He glances down at me, then out to the water, taking a deep breath.
“I’m great. I just like being here, with you.”
“Me too.” I lean my cheek against his hard bicep and watch the birds fly over the river. “Me too.”
***
“You’ve been coming to me for seven years,” Mandy, my hairdresser, says several hours later. I’m sitting in her chair, the ugly black cape buttoned around my neck. “You’ve never wanted anything more than a trim on the ends.”
“I know, and I hate it.”
“Why didn’t you say so?”
“Because it wasn’t your fault,” I reply immediately, not wanting to hurt her feelings. “You’ve always done a great job. It’s the style I hated, but he wanted my hair that way.”
“It’s been two years, sugar. Why are we just doing this now?”
“I guess I just didn’t feel healed enough until now,” I reply honestly. “It’s time.”
“Okay.” She blinks back tears.
“We are not crying today,” I inform her sternly.
“Right.” She clears her throat. “Okay, what do you want me to do?”
“I want you to do whatever you want.” I smile, excitement spreading through my chest. “Let’s do some color, and a totally different cut.”
“I’m so excited,” Mandy says, clapping her hands. “I know just the thing. Are you sure you trust me with this?”
“Absolutely.” I take a happy deep breath and close my eyes. “Let’s do this.”
For the next few hours, we chat about our families and our jobs. She paints stuff on my hair, then folds it into aluminum foil. I look like I could receive satellite signals.
“Okay, we’re going to wash this out, and then I’ll cut.”
“Great.”
The washing part is always my favorite. Mandy gives a kick ass scalp massage. When we return to the chair, she turns me away from the mirror.
“You don’t get to see it now until I’m done.”
“Okay.” I hold my fist out to bump hers, so excited to see what she comes up with. The blow dryer is loud, so we can’t chat while she blows my hair dry, and I let my eyes drift closed, happily dozing in her chair. Finally, she snips her scissors through my hair, instantly making it so much lighter.
She puts the finishing touches on it and turns me to the mirror, and all I can do is sit and stare in awe.
“Wow.”
“Oh no,” Mandy says with horror. “Do you hate it?”
“No.” I turn my head to each side, enamored with the sleek, straight black hair with subtle highlights. The ends of my hair barely reach my shoulders now and it frames my face beautifully. “Oh, Mandy, it’s so pretty.”
And now, despite telling myself over and over again that I wouldn’t cry today, I let the tears come.
Because this is the last big step to getting me back.
“I am so happy for you,” she whispers and catches my gaze in hers in the mirror. Tears fill her pretty brown eyes. “I don’t think you’ll ever really know how happy I am that you’re okay.”
“Thank you.” I clear my throat and blink the tears away. “I love the way it feels. It’s so much lighter, and so soft.”
“You have beautiful hair,” she replies, running her fingers through it again. “And this length is perfect on you.”
She takes the cape off, and I stand, immediately hugging her close. “Thank you so much.”
“Thank you for letting me play. That was a lot of fun.”
I pay Mandy, including one hell of a tip, and practically bounce all the way to my car. I turn the music up loud as I drive home, completely content and happy.
I smile as I pull into my driveway less than thirty minutes later. Declan is here, probably putting the finishing touches on the crown molding in my home office.
“Hello?” I call out as I walk into the house. It’s a smaller place, especially compared to most of the others in this exclusive neighborhood. But it’s just me, and I don’t need a ton of space.
“In the office!” Callie calls out. “We came to finish the molding.”
“Good, it’s about time.”
Declan slowly smiles and looks me up and down. “Nice hair.”
“Oh, I love it,” Callie agrees.
“Me too.” I touch the ends of it, still not used to it being so short. “It was time.”
“Damn right,” Declan says. “So you had a good day?”
“A great day.”
He nods, but I can read his mind. I know my twin brother inside and out.
Are you really okay?
I nod. I’m so okay.
He sighs. I still want to kill him.
He’s not worth it.
“Okay,” Callie says, interrupting us. “Stop it with the voodoo twin speak.”
Declan laughs and pulls his wife in for a long, disgusting kiss.
“That’s about enough of the gross married speak, too,” I say, making gagging noises.
“You love me,” Dec says.
“Some days more than others. Like today, when you come to finish my office.”
“I can’t believe the house is already done,” Callie says, propping her hands on her hips and surveying the space.
“It’s been a year and a half,” I reply, looking at her like she’s nuts.
“And we’ve done the work ourselves,” she reminds me. Callie and Declan both love to flip houses, so they’ve been invaluable.
“I wanted to do it myself,” I reply. “While I was healing this house, it was healing me too.”
I glance around.
“I needed this.”
“I know,” Callie says and gives me a big hug. “And I’m so glad for it.”
“Me too.”
“Are you two going to keep chatting, or are we working?” Declan asks.
“Such a man,” I say to Callie, rolling my eyes. “He’s not great with feelings.”
“He has his moments,” Callie replies with a smile for my brother.
“I’m sensitive,” Declan says with a frown. “But we have a shit ton to do here, and I want to finish today.”
“Well, then I guess we’d better get to it.” I rub my hands together. “Where should I start?”
“You’ll want to change,” Callie says. “This might get messy.”
“Okay.” I nod. “Good idea. You get started and I’ll be right back.”
I hurry out of the office and down the hall to the back staircase. I pass by the kitchen and have to stop, backtrack, and stare in awe at all of the flowers covering every spare inch of my countertops.
“Holy shit.”
“They’re from all of us,” Declan says from behind me.
“I’ve never seen this many flowers before.”
I can’t look at him. If I do, I’ll start crying, and I won’t be able to stop.
“You deserve pretty things, Van.”
“I don’t know if I deserve all of this.”
He steps up beside me now and takes my hand in his.
“You deserve this and more. You deserve everything.”
I glance up at him and see tears swimming.
“I think I finally believe you.”
“Good.” He nods once and folds me into a hug. “It’s about damn time.”