Waking up, I’m sore all over and still tired, even though I slept most of the night. My body is covered in sweat from the nightmare I had. I must have been seriously out of it because I don’t even remember waking up once. For the past two weeks, I haven’t slept well, too anxious and on edge since the night I fled from Rick. Most of the time the nightmares have kept me up, so last night’s sleep was welcomed and much needed.
I’ve suffered from night terrors ever since my parents died, but they eased off after a year. When Rick began to abuse me, they came back and were much worse. The most painful ones were the ones where my mom and dad would appear, both disappointed and ashamed of me. But since I ran away, they’ve all been of the last night I spent with Rick, the images of what he did on repeat.
Rolling over, I look at the clock. When I see the time, I jump out of bed, snagging my toe on the chest of drawers.
“Fuck!” I wince, hopping on one foot.
Fuck! Shit! Fuck! Shit! Ouch! That really hurt. Goddammit, my poor toe.
It’s eight in the morning. I promised Dean I’d be out on the dock in an hour. I’m going to be late. Rick is going to be seriously pissed. I shake my head, realising I’m not meeting Rick, that I’m meeting Dean. I need to remember that Dean isn’t Rick and that Rick can’t hurt me anymore.
Although I’ve just come out of a brutal relationship, I still can’t help but think of what my life would have been like had I stayed here and ended up in a relationship with Dean, like my mother dreamed of. Even at five years old I had a crush on him. How much different my life would be if I had been with him or someone like him instead of Rick. Who am I kidding? A man like Dean doesn’t go for girls like me. I’m not ugly, but I’m not pretty by any standard. Even if he did find me attractive now, there would be no point. I’m broken, completely shattered from who I once was. I’m not even half the person I used to be, and for that, I’ll forever be a lost cause.
I always thought he was beautiful, but now his looks have amplified. He is more than hot. He is magnificent.
I loved how he looked at me yesterday when I was in the car, his bright blue eyes shining, looking right through to the deepest parts of me. It’s something I’ve not felt in a long time. Rick tended to look through me, like I didn’t exist.
I have to admit, Dean puts Taylor Lautner to shame, and that boy has a body I want to lick. And yes, just like a true Twihard, I can never resist Jacob Black topless. Come to think of it, even as a kid I wondered what Dean hid underneath his clothes. Now that he’s a fully-grown man, the urge is much stronger since he seems to be packing more than he’s showing.
Sighing, I turn to the suitcase I dragged in last night and grab some clothes. I need to meet the new, older Dean and get to know him. I want to see if he’s anything like the boy I once knew.
*** *** *** ***
It’s nine, and I’m at the docks, surprised to find that I’m the only one here. Go me! I’m terrible with time, always have been. I’m one of those people who would be late for her own funeral. I think it’s only the cinema I’ve never been late for and that’s only because I can’t miss the trailers. They’re my favourite part. I’m a movie geek through and through.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Dean greets. His voice startles me, making me jump. I hadn’t even heard him approach.
Spinning around, I clutch my chest, trying to even my breathing but when I take in his appearance, I freeze. He’s wearing a white linen shirt with a few buttons undone at the top and has it untucked, hanging over a pair of denim jeans.
Oh my good God! The man looks like he’s heading to a modelling shoot and not to a bookshop. He looks… wow! Okay, I may be drooling a little.
Taylor Lautner has some serious competition.
Fully aware of my ogling, Dean wears the biggest smug grin ever. Heat creeps up my neck to my cheeks. Lowering my eyes, I take a step back, ashamed of my behaviour.
“Like what you see, huh?” he asks, cockily.
I shake my head, my cheeks heating further. “Morning. Sorry, I, uh… I was just…just trying to picture you as the boy I once knew. You seem to have grown a few inches.” I inwardly roll my eyes at how ridiculous I sound.
“Of course you were,” he says, wearing that shit-eating grin which kind of annoys me. “So, are you ready?”
“Yes. Um, Dean? Is there somewhere we could go to get some coffee? I didn’t have time to hit an off-licence on the way over here yesterday, so there’s nothing in.”
I fidget as he takes a step towards me, stepping right into my personal space again. My body reacts again, shaking. I’m not comfortable with his close proximity and I don’t think I ever will be. It’s not because I think he’ll hurt me, but because of other reasons.
When he dips his head so he’s eye level with me, it brings him closer, making me nervous. Taking another step back, I repeat, I’m not scared of Dean, over and over in my head. Because I’m not afraid of him; I never have been. The only logical answer I have for why I’m so wary of him is because I haven’t seen him in sixteen years. I don’t know if he’s the same boy I once knew.
I loved the boy he was back then. I trusted him with my life. We told each other everything, and even now, I have the urge to tell him about Rick and what he did to me.
I’ve spent so long not being able to confide in anyone that I’m ready to burst at the seams. Back there, I never had any friends to talk to, and it was one of the hardest things I had to adapt to. It’s also one of the many reasons why Rick managed to control and manipulate me so easily.
I’ve always been a loner, and it’s never bothered me. Not even now. When it comes to the same sex, I’ve always found it hard to get past the bitchiness they have towards other girls. It’s why I never made any female friends during school or when I was at uni.
Dean had always been enough of a friend for me growing up that I never needed to seek out any female friendship. Plus, he was the one I went to when I needed someone to talk to. He helped me through some of the hardest times of my life. He was my anchor. I’ll always remember the good times we shared and how young and carefree we once were.
When I feel the time is right, I’ll more than likely confide in him. I already want to. Hell, I think I need to, if only for my sanity’s sake.
Gavin, the doorman, had his suspicions. He told me he would help me leave Rick, but I never confirmed the beatings, nor did I want to. I’d been too ashamed and scared of people finding out, but more worried about what Rick would do to me if they did find out. Having Gavin suspect wasn’t the same as being able to talk to someone about it.
Blinking rapidly, I clear my thoughts before looking back at Dean. I notice he’s taken a step back, eyeing me warily. He looks like he’s trying to figure me out, to find out what’s wrong, but I don’t let any emotion show on my face. I’ve had so many years of practice hiding them from everyone that it comes as second nature to me now.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” I ask, embarrassed for spacing out.
“I said there’s a place we can go to for coffee across the lake. It’s actually not far from the bookshop I’ll be taking you to. If you haven’t had coffee, then I’m taking it you haven’t eaten either. We can stop for breakfast too. I’ll take you food shopping tomorrow if you want since I’ll be going for Mom anyway.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m not hungry,” I say, waving off his offer. “I just need to get some caffeine in me. Shopping sounds good though.” I sigh, relieved since I have no idea where the nearest food shop is. “I can’t wait to see your mom. I miss her, and I feel really bad for pushing you all away. You all meant a great deal to me.
“I’ve known all along that coming here would hurt some way, but seeing your father yesterday brought back some happy memories for me. It was nice to remember a happier time. I know now I was wrong to handle it the way I did.” I take a deep breath, looking to the ground.
“You were just a kid, Lola. Mom and Dad understand why you did it. They’ve missed you too. They always talk about you, and not a day has gone by where they don’t. They don’t hold anything against you, Lola. I promise.” A sheepish expression crosses his face, seeming uncomfortable before he continues. “I wrote to you a few times to see how you were, but you didn’t reply. Mom and Dad told me to give you some time and I did. I guess over the years I just gave up hope that I would see you again.”
I smile sadly, feeling the pain in his voice when he confesses that last part to me. A wave of respect for him hits me, and I’m grateful for him telling me the truth instead of sugar-coating everything.
“Come on. Let’s go get some coffee.” He grins, taking my hand in his and leading me towards the boat.
The boat trip over is the most freeing thing I’ve ever experienced apart from leaving Rick. Dean is obviously in no rush to get over the lake. The boat purrs smoothly across the water as we talk mindlessly.
**** **** **** ****
I’m still grinning like a fool when we enter the café ten minutes later. But as soon as the shop door closes behind us, I lose my smile, seeing everyone’s eyes on me. The notion that they could be staring at Dean doesn’t even cross my mind; my anxiety is too far gone to even consider it.
My hands start to shake, my palms sweating. When the first customer greets Dean with a warm hello, my body begins to relax, and the shaking eases up.
Guiding me through the sea of tables, Dean sits us down at one near the window. He orders us a coffee straight away, seeming to know the staff well.
We talk about the boat trip over, Dean asking if I liked it. Before I know it, the waitress is setting our mugs of coffee down on the table and taking Dean’s food order. I tune them out, turning to look out at the lake. It’s beautiful with the morning sun glinting over the dark water.
Turning back to face Dean, I watch as he takes a sip of his coffee, a serious expression on his face. One that clearly says I’m not going to like what he has to say.
Oh boy, I think I’m in trouble.
“So, what brings you back to Cabin Lake?” he questions, reaching for another sash of sugar.
I pause, taking a deep breath. I’ve known from the beginning I’d be asked this question, even thought of all the different lies I could tell them, but there was one problem with that―I hate lying. It will only lead to more lies, and I know I’ll never be able to stomach doing it to Dean and his family.
“I needed to escape my life for a bit, so I decided to come here, where it felt like home.” I shrug like it’s no big deal, when really it is. “Being here with you guys and my parents had been the happiest days of my life. I missed it, missed feeling at home.” A forced laugh escapes me as I swirl my coffee around with my spoon. “Everyone says your home is where you make it, but for me, this has always been my home. It’s where I grew up. It’s where my parents and I would come together. They looked at this place like home. I just… I missed home,” I whisper, a lump forming in my throat.
“Wow! I hadn’t expected you to be that honest.” He seems lost in thought, his face a mixture of emotions. “So… escaping? Are you on the run from something or do you have a murderous ex-boyfriend coming after you?” he teases, trying to lighten the tension, but his words suck all the air from my lungs, causing me to panic.
Breathe, Lola.
I know he’s only teasing me―he couldn’t possibly know the real reason―but it frightens me all the same. I freeze, my entire body locking up painfully from trying to block out the dark memories wanting to surface. It’s no use. With each sharp pain in my skull they come, knocking the breath out of me.
“Lola, are you seriously going to fucking wear that outfit in public? We have a fucking meal to get to. We’re not going to the red light district,” Rick thunders, his face red with anger.
I want to scream that he was the one who bought me the dress to wear, that it was he who demanded I wear it to impress his partners. I don’t dare open my mouth and tell him that though, knowing it would only make him angrier. Instead, I bow my head, looking to the floor.
“I’ll go change,” I whisper, close to tears from his harsh words. When he doesn’t say anything, I dare to take a look at him. My breath hitches when I see the veins in his neck bulge, his hands clenching into fists at his side and his body turning rigid. He looks like he’s trying to restrain himself, but I know better. Nothing can tame the monster inside him.
I know what’s coming. His posture and expression show it all.
I guess I knew the second he told me to change that this would happen. I should have known he wasn’t going to allow me to relax and have a bruise-free night.
Before I can blink, his fist shoots out, knocking me to the floor. He kicks me once, twice, in the ribs. The pain becomes too much to handle as I curl into myself, shaking uncontrollably. A wave of terror hits me when I have no idea what he’s going to do to me next. He’s unpredictable at the moment, unstable to a frightening degree.
His large frame blocks the sharp light coming from overhead. I watch, fearing for my life as he kneels before me, his face red and pinched with anger. I start to sob harder when I catch the hollow, vacant look in his eyes. They’re completely black, void of any emotion. More proof of how evil he is. I feel stupid for never seeing it before.
The second our eyes connect something snaps inside him, and he lunges for me, filled with rage. A scream tries to bubble out, but it is cut short when he wraps his hands around my throat, stopping the sound from escaping.
I can’t breathe.
I’m going to die.
I try to plead with him to let me go, but no sound escapes when I open my mouth. Tears fall faster as I fight for air. I claw and slap at his arms, trying to get him to loosen his grip, but all it does is make him squeeze tighter. My throat burns, small gasps of air falling from my lips as my vision blurs.
“I’m going to squeeze the fucking life out of you, Lola. Yet again, we’re fucking late, and it’s all your fucking fault. You’ll regret putting on that whore outfit. Mark my words, you’re going to regret it. I can’t believe it took you so long to get dressed like this. You’re a fucking disgrace.
“Did you really think saying you’ll go and change would make this better? Are you that fucking stupid?” He laughs, and it sounds bitter and hollow. “Fuck! When will you learn that you are nothing? It doesn’t matter how hard you try to look good, you’ll always be ugly. Always be unattractive,” he sneers. Leaning in closer, the alcohol rolls off his breath, making me want to gag. “You’re fucking lucky I put up with you because otherwise, you’d have no one. No one else wants you.”
“Lola, are you okay? Lola! Lola! Please answer me. You’re scaring me,” Dean calls out, sounding panicked. My vision comes into focus, back to the present.
The realisation of what happened dawns on me, and I feel the colour drain from my face. My hands shake and my neck feels raw, just how it did in the memory when Rick wrapped his hands around my throat.
Coming to, I find Dean kneeling in front of me with one hand on the back of my chair, the other cupping my cheek, lovingly. His touch has my pulse skyrocketing. My heart is thumping, chest rising and falling heavily.
He’s looking at me with so much concern, and I hate that I put that look there. I’m devastated he just witnessed what I call my freak-outs. I’ve spaced out a few times like this since I left Rick, putting it down to high stress levels. On the drive over here I was worried it would happen while I was driving and I’d cause an accident. I’d been lucky for the first time in my life because I managed not to have one.
“Sorry, I zoned out,” I tell him, forcing a smile and hoping he believes me. But from the look on his face, he doesn’t seem all that convinced. If I knew he’d mention an ex-boyfriend during a conversation, I would have prepared myself. Then again, I don’t think it would have mattered; nothing could have prepared me mentally.
“Honestly, Dean, I’m fine. I just zoned out.”
“It’s where you zoned out to that’s worrying me. Your eyes were completely blank. It looked like you weren’t even in the room. You looked terrified.” He runs a hand through his hair, pausing. “It fucking scared me, Lola. Where did you go in that head of yours? Did I say something to upset you?”
“Dean, please! Everything is fine. I just zoned out.” Having to lie to him again has the fight leaving me.
Reluctantly he sits back down, at the same time the waitress walks over with his food. My eyes bug out of their sockets when I see the tray. There’s a lot of food loaded on those plates, and I mean loaded. There’s enough to feed a family of six, I swear.
My stomach rumbles from the delicious smell, but since I didn’t order any food I ignore it, hoping Dean didn’t hear it.
“Are you seriously going to eat all of that?” My voice comes out high, my expression shocked. “How can you eat all of this and be so buff?”
If he eats everything, I’ll eat my pants.
Pausing, I remember when we were younger, and I take back what I just said. He could eat a lot back then too. He was constantly pinching food off my plate or grabbing seconds.
Wondering why he hasn’t answered me, I look up, realisation dawning on me when I realise what I just said to him. I called him buff.
To his face.
I think I’m more annoyed at the fact I said the word ‘buff’ instead of something manly than I am about the fact I basically just called him hot.
His lips spread into a wide grin, his expression amused and knowing, like he can read my thoughts.
God, when he smiles like that, it makes his dimples pop out. My breath hitches, finding his grin panty dropping.
Shit! I’m so going to hell thinking like this, especially when I just managed to escape the last man I was with.
“Buff, huh?” He’s still grinning, an amused glint in his eyes, and I blush.
Holy crap! I’m totally going to hell.
“Yes, buff. So… food… That hungry, huh?” I ramble, trying to hide the fact I feel like I’m dying with embarrassment right now.
“Nah, I don’t feel comfortable with you not eating, especially when I know you haven’t eaten since you arrived, so I ordered food for you too. I wasn’t sure what you liked so I ordered a bunch of shit.”
He chuckles, eyeing the plates of food.
Wow!
My throat tightens, a lump forming at the incredibly sweet gesture.
“Oh, okay.”
He stares at me, still grinning, before snapping out of it and ordering me to eat something. Not needing to be told twice, I dig in and find myself enjoying a hot meal for the first time in over a week.
After a few minutes of eating in silence, we start chatting, mostly about his parents and the cabin. He stays clear of asking me anything personal, for which I’m thankful. Once I know for sure he isn’t going to surprise me again, I begin to relax, enjoying his company.
*** *** ***
We’ve been walking through the little town for five minutes. As we round the next corner, we come to a narrow street filled with cobbled stones.
Staring down at the cobbles, I don’t notice that Dean has stopped walking until I bump into him.
“Sorry.” I chuckle, turning to take in my surroundings. The shop we’ve stopped outside brightens the whole street. Most of the buildings surrounding it are vacant, except for a cancer research charity shop and a music shop across the road.
Looking back at the beautiful store, I smile and find myself falling in love with it, even though I haven’t even stepped inside.
The panels on the building are a light purple, the door a slightly darker shade. It helps the shop stand out. Above the door is a huge sign in bold cursive, spelling out ‘Brooke’s Books’ in different-coloured letters.
Giddy, I take a step inside, giggling when the wind chime echoes around the shop. The melody is relaxing.
My fingers run along the shelves, and I smile at how unique they are. They’re all painted in brightly lit colours.
I find myself breathing in the scent of lavender as I walk farther into the bookshop. I can honestly say I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s out of this world. If libraries or bookshops were to all look like this, then I’m willing to bet more people would start reading.
The shelves aren’t the only bright-coloured fixtures in the shop. My favourites so far are the massive beanbags in every colour under the rainbow. There is no way I’ll be able to leave here until I know where she ordered them from. I want one so bad. They look really comfy, and that’s not the only thing that does. In the far corner is a green sofa, big enough to use as a double bed and has cushions piled on top in every colour I can run off my tongue.
The place is incredible, and I can’t stop myself from taking in every little detail.
“Wow! This is mind-blowing,” I whisper in awe.
“Thanks. I designed it myself,” a sweet voice says, and I turn to the sound. “Hi, I’m Brooke.”
A petite woman steps down into the room. She’s so tiny and looks to be in her early thirties. She’s dressed in bright, radiant colours, just like her shop, and is naturally pretty with her mid-length, brown wavy hair, and big brown eyes. No wonder the place lights up your mood when you walk in; it reflects its owner.
I already feel drawn to the woman, not only because of her shop but the aura that surrounds her. You can instantly tell from being with her for the shortest amount of time that she’s a good person, that she’s kind and would do anything for anyone. For that, I already like her and have a feeling we’ll become fast friends.
“You designed this?” I ask, stunned. But looking at the strong, independent woman, I wonder why I’m so surprised.
“Yes. I designed everything from the beanbags to the hanging butterflies in the children’s section back there.” She smiles proudly, pointing to where she had just walked out from.
“Wow! It’s all beautiful. Well done, you did a good job. It’s left me speechless,” I admit, smiling.
The place is truly amazing. I’m dying to go check out the children’s section she just mentioned. It’s like a world of magic, and definitely every kid’s dream come true in here. Hell, this is my childhood dream come true. I was, and still am, proud to say that I am the biggest book geek ever known.
My father’s passion was law, my mother’s her music and reading. She chose to teach underprivileged children how to play the piano as a career.
Ever since I can remember, I’ve always wanted to become an editor. I loved the placement I was given from the university. I even had a good job after uni at an editing firm, but because of Rick and his old-fashioned ways, I had to leave so he could look after me. It wasn’t until later on in our relationship that I figured out it was all just another way to get me where he wanted. Until now, I never realised it was his way of controlling me, a way of taking full power of our relationship, and over me.
Shaking the unwanted thoughts away, I remind myself that not all men are the same as Rick. My dad and grandpa are proof of that.
“Make yourself at home…?”
“Lola,” I finish.
She smiles back at me. “Lola, please make yourself at home,” she tells me before turning to Dean. “Dean, you didn’t tell me that you finally met a beautiful girl. You’ve been in and out of this joint for years, listening to me prattle on, and you didn’t think to return the favour?” She tuts at him before turning back to me with a huge smile. “His last girlfriend was a B.I.T.C.H. Honestly, if there was money involved she was there, but if there wasn’t, well, you wouldn’t be worth her time. I disliked her from the moment that spunk of a man brought her here. You know what the first thing she said when she walked in was?” she asks, never taking a breath. “She said, and I quote, ‘Dean baby, I think we’re lost. What is this place? I mean, seriously, ‘What is this place?’ C’mon,” Brooke scoffs, laughing as she gestures to the books around her. “It’s a bookshop. What else could this place possibly be?” She takes a deep breath, rolling her eyes. I giggle, loving her little outburst. She really gets going once she’s started. Poor Dean looks seconds away from turning around and walking out of the shop, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He’s so cute at the moment that I can’t resist teasing him.
“Peroxide Barbie? You date those, really?” I raise my eyebrow, and I can’t help the snort that escapes. I remember a time when he used to hate girls like that; girls that would wear next to nothing, act fake and full on flirt. He’d always tell me I was the only girl that he could stand to be around; that all those girls made him sick. The memory makes me laugh harder, and Dean narrows his eyes, playfully.
“Sweetheart, I think you should go look in the mirror. ‘Peroxide Barbie’ was what you said, wasn’t it?” He winks, eyeing my hair, and my stomach flutters. He turns his attention back to Brooke. “And no, she isn’t my girlfriend. Lola is a friend of the family who we haven’t seen in years. We’ve known each other since we were babies.”
I chuckle at his obvious discomfort, but then what he said clicks and I turn around, narrowing my eyes at him.
“Did you really just call me a peroxide Barbie?” I snap.
“Err, yes?” It comes out as a question, his bravado fading.
“One, Mister ‘I don’t know the difference between real and fake,’ my hair has never and will never be near hair dye, bleach or any other hair chemical known to woman or man. The only time I even go near the hairdresser is if I want to get my hair cut.
“Two, my hair was blonder than this as a kid. You should know that since you said it shined brighter than the sun.
“And three, I didn’t need to go to university to know what this store is. I knew before I even took a step inside. It’s on the pissing sign above the door. So never, ever, get me confused with those bimbos.” I finish my rant, taking a deep breath. God, it feels good to let off some steam. When I finally look up, Brooke and Dean are both staring at me, their mouths hanging wide open, catching flies.
“Okay, sweetheart, say what you really mean.” Dean chuckles, teasing me, and I growl. “Grab your book so I can get you another coffee, preferably before you turn green. I want to get home safely.” Leaning closer, his breath tickles my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. “I really want to say I’m sorry for upsetting you, but then I wouldn’t have seen you all mad and riled up. It makes you look sexier, by the way. Welcome home, Lola.”
“God, you’re such a pig,” I lie, my face heating. As I look away, my gaze meets Brooke’s and she grins, sending me a wink.
“Find a book, Lola.” He smirks, shaking his head.
I stomp off, looking for the book in mind as a small smile plays on my lips, his earlier words playing in my head.
Sexier. He thinks I’m sexy.
Hopefully when we get back, I can persuade Dean to take me out in the wooden rowboat I saw on the stones down by the docks this morning.
I don’t know why but after experiencing this morning’s ride on the boat, I want more.
Maybe I can take my book with me and read while he rows us far out onto the lake. I have to admit, the thought of watching Dean’s biceps straining and bulging while he rows excites me. It also sickens me to feel something so soon after Rick.
Any feelings Dean may or may not return seems like a trick, an illusion. It’s like Rick is still punishing me. His cruel words play over and over and remind me that no one will want me. Plus, even if I did have a chance, I lost it the minute Rick violated me.
Nobody wants something tainted and ugly.