Pieces of Rhys (20 page)

Read Pieces of Rhys Online

Authors: L. D. Davis

Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance, #Adult

"Yeah, but in how many pieces?" I asked and watched their backs until they disappeared into the house.

"I hope he's wearing a vest," Angelo said.

 

I was sure my dad had killed Rhys. After forty-five minutes of waiting, I marched towards the house, ignoring relatives and friends as they tried to speak to me. I just reached the deck when Rhys and my dad emerged through the sliding doors.

"What the hell took you so long!" I demanded as I climbed the steps. "I thought you killed him!"

"We were talking," my dad said casually.

"And?" I looked from one to the other.

"And I want a beer and some food," Dad shrugged. "Come on, Rhys. Let's go have a drink."

Both men kissed me on the top of my head and left me standing there, confused and irritated.

Rhys did as he said he would, and charmed the hell out of my family. My dad dragged him around all day like he was some kind of prize, introducing him to friends and family, clapping him on the back and laughing with him. My mom giggled like a little girl around him and indulged him with food and drinks. Even grandma decided he wasn't a prick anymore.

Everyone kept calling Rhys my boyfriend, and he didn't correct them with "very good friend" or something equally insulting. He seemed to be enjoying all of it, which pissed me off. He was going to be gone in a matter of days and I'd be left trying to clean up the mess he was creating by easing into my family this one day.

"Why do you look so disgusted?" Ignacio asked me later that night.

I was standing on the deck, watching Rhys dance with my mom on the dancefloor that had been built  for the party.

I told Nacio my thoughts.

"That would just be cruel," he said. "I don't think he's a cruel man. There must be some other reason."

"What other reason?" I looked at him.

"Lindsey, who flies three thousand miles and then drives another hundred more or so to look at a garden? Your place looks great, don't get me wrong, but it's not worth all of the trouble Rhys went through to come see it."

"I don't know whether or not I should feel insulted," I said dryly.

"You're missing my point," Ignacio said.

"Which is?"

He sighed, and looked me in the eyes. "Rhys is still in love with you and he's come to California to claim you."

I stared at him. "How could you possibly know that?"

"I've been in love with you since you fell off of your porch the day we met," he smiled sadly. "I know what it looks like."

"Ignacio," I whispered. I felt so bad for not knowing, or not acknowledging his feelings for me.

"Hey, don't worry. I told you before it wasn't meant to be. I was going to tell you over dinner that night, but we got a little side tracked," he said and looked at me knowingly. "And then Rhys called."

"How do you know I don't feel the same?"

"Lindsey, don't..." He shook his head. "I know you have some feelings for me, but not like you do for Rhys."

I couldn't argue with him, because he was right. Maybe if he had told me his feelings sooner, things would be different. I may not have even answered Rhys's call.

"I know he hurt you pretty badly before," Nacio said softly. "But I'm sure he would do anything to fix it, and you should let him."

He kissed my cheek and then left me there to ponder on the things he said.

 

Chapter Thirty-One

 

I waited in the car while Rhys and my brother finished a conversation by Angelo's car. I didn't know what they were talking about, but it seemed somewhat serious. After a few minutes, they shook hands, did a manly hug thing and Angelo got into his car.

"What was that all about?" I asked Rhys when he got in the car.

"Business," he said as if that answered everything.

I frowned, but didn't push him to say more.

"I saw Ignacio kiss you," Rhys said after a couple of minutes.

"Yeah," I said, but didn't elaborate.

"Do I need to be worried?"

"You're already worried."

"Do I need to be more worried?" He glanced over at me.

"No,
boyfriend
."

We were silent for a couple of minutes.

"What did you and my dad talk about?" I asked.

"You're wondering why you're not planning my funeral."

"Yeah."

He didn't immediately answer, but when he started speaking, his voice was low.

"I told him that my first memories as a child were violent. I remember being in my crib and watching my dad beat my mom and sometimes my brother. When I got a little older, I was beaten, too."

I gasped. "You've never told me that."

"I know," he said softly. "I told your dad everything my own father has put me and my family through. I told him what I did to you and how scared you looked when you thought I was going to hurt you."

"And he didn't kill you?" I asked, shocked.

He smiled. "No, though he looked like he might, but then he kind of softened up a little. He confessed to some unkind things he's done to your mom over the years."

"Like what? Nevermind. I don't want to know."

"Probably not," he agreed.

I waited patiently for him to continue.

"I told him about my fears about being an abusive person and that was why I had let you go and never committed to you in the first place. He asked me what changed, why do I feel differently."

"Good questions."

"Nothing has changed," he whispered. "I'll always be afraid of becoming a monster, but what I've come to realize is that a lot of people have a fear of becoming something they don't want to be. Some people don't want to become drug addicts, or alcoholics, or lazy, or poor, or whatever their parents may have been before them.

"I promised your dad that I will never hit you or verbally abuse you."

We were silent for a few minutes. I was feeling a wide array of emotions. I had a feeling there was more to their conversation that he wasn't going to yet reveal.

"Did you promise him to never tie me up with duct tape or blindfold me or gag me?" I asked, breaking the silence.

He grinned. "No. I don't like making promises I'm unwilling to keep."

 

It had started to rain on our way home, and we were both quiet, lost in our thoughts. The rain beating on the car and the windshield wipers were the only sounds in the car.

Rhys's attention was divided between the rear view mirror and the road. In fact, his eyes were on the mirror more than the road.

"Is there something interesting back there?" I asked.

"Just the same car since a few blocks after your parents'."

"A little paranoid are we?"

"New Jersey license plate."

My heart stumbled a bit as I twisted in my seat to see the truck behind us, but the rain made it almost impossible to see who was driving.

"Coincidence," I said. "He didn't have a truck."

"Could have bought one."

"Possibly."

"I have to tell you something," Rhys said slowly. "Don't freak out."

"I'm going to freak out because you're telling me not to freak out!"

"Calm down," he said soothingly.

"You calm down!"

Ignoring my ridiculous command, he said "When you were in the shower yesterday Ignacio showed me something out in the garden. Some of your plants had been trampled and destroyed."

"A deer?" I asked hopefully.

He gave me a quick "Don't be an idiot" glance before continuing. "There were footprints all through that area and more under windows. There were more today."

"Ohhh," I groaned and put my head between my knees. "I'm going to barf."

"It may not mean anything," he reached out and rubbed my back.

"You tell my brother? Is that what you were talking about?"

"Some of it, yes. I told your dad, too."

"Is that truck still behind us?" I peeked up at his face.

"No," he said, but seemed more worried than before. "We're almost home."

"How did we go from you asking my dad for my hand in marriage to being stalked by a pyschopath?"

"What makes you think I asked your dad that? That wouldn't even make sense - I haven't even kissed you in more than half a year."

"You're confident that I'll want you as much as you want me," I said.

"Confident?" He snorted. "Not at all. I'm terrified you're finished with me."

"Don't be ridiculous," I snapped. "You know that I can't resist you, so stop playing dumb. That's why my dad was showing you off like the trophy son-in-law today."

"Your grandmother thinks we'll have pretty babies."

"She'll call them fat and give them a complex."

"Much like you do to my cat."

"
Our
cat,
fiance.
Do you think he's still out there? What if you weren't here? I'd be alone!"

"Ignacio wouldn't have left you alone."

"I guess not. He
is
in love with me."

"I told you. Look, we're almost to your house. Do you feel better?"

"No! My nearest neighbor is a quarter mile away and it's dark and rainy and there's so many places for a psychopath to hide!"

"So you accept my proposal?" Rhys asked.

"What proposal! You proposed to my dad, not me."

"Will you marry me?"

"Such an odd proposal," I complained. "Our relationship hasn't exactly been normal - or functional."

"Will you marry me or not?" He pressed.

I wanted to answer, but I was distracted by the headlights that were racing out of a meadow to our left. It all happened so quickly, but as the vehicle hurtled towards us, I tried to come up with rational reasons why lights would be coming from a normally empty piece of land: a midnight mower, midnight farming, aliens, cows causing a ruckus.

We were hit so hard on the driver's side, the car began to roll. It flipped over and over and over. If this had been an amusement park ride, it may have been fun. But it was real life, so unfun. My whole body ached like nothing I ever experienced before. I felt like I had just flipped over four times in a sedan.

I was struggling to stay concious as I tried to focus my eyes on my companion. When my eyes finally did focus, I wished I was really blind. Rhys's head and face was a bloody mess. I didn't know if he was dead or alive.

I fumbled with my seatbelt for what seemed like forever before it released me. Just as I reached for Rhys, strong arms were around my waist, violently pulling me through the shattered window and out into the rain.

 

Chapter Thirty-two

 

After being forceably removed from the broken vehicle, I blacked out, mostly because my kidnapper had cold cocked me.

When I started to reach conciousness again, I felt motion, like I was riding in a car or a truck. After some struggling, I was able to open my eyes and focus a few minutes after that.

"Gary, you asshole," I said hoarsely and tasting blood on my lips. "What are you doing?"

"You didn't tell me you were leaving," he said in a quietly menacing voice.

"Newsflash: I didn't have to tell you anything. We're divorced."

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