Protect Me: Oakville Series:Book Three (14 page)

S
LOWLY OPENING
my eyes, I glance over at the clock. To my amazement, it’s already nine o’clock. I haven’t slept past six in the morning in years. I don’t usually sleep well and I constantly toss and turn. By morning, my bed is a tangled mess of sheets, but not today. We are in the exact same positions as when we fell asleep. Paul was right when he said I’d feel safe in his arms.

I tilt my head so I can see his face. He looks as peaceful as I feel right now. Maybe having me in his arms makes him feel safe. I have a feeling his demons hinder his sleep as well. As I watch him, I realize I’m fighting a battle I have no chance in winning. No matter what I do, I can’t stay away from him. This feels wonderful, lying here safe and secure in his strong arms. At the same time, I’m also terrified because I can feel myself falling for him. Falling so fast and hard that if he’s not there to catch me, my heart will be beyond repair.

Carefully, I slip out of bed, stopping in the doorway to take one more look at the tantalizing man. As I make my way to the kitchen, I feel lighter. Almost like one of the many weights holding me down has been taken away. Paul has taken it away. One night of making me feel safe and protected is making me want something I wasn’t sure I’d ever want again. I could easily get used to falling asleep and waking up in his strong arms.

I start brewing a pot of coffee while I gather what I need to make French toast. It’s so nice to get up and cook breakfast for someone because I want to. Not because it’s expected of me or out of fear of what will happen if I don’t. Remembering some of the beatings I’ve endured causes my body to tremble. Will I ever not be afraid? Is there ever going to be a time I’m not looking over my shoulder? Trying to shake off those thoughts, I get back to cooking.

“Something smells awfully good, doll face,” Paul says. When I turn around, he’s leaning in the doorway. One look at him and I’ve got an instant lady boner. What a sight. His arms are crossed and resting on his bare chest. The worn out blue jeans he’s wearing are riding low on his hips, just enough to make you want to see what’s hiding underneath. The sexiest thing of all is the crooked smirk on his face. One that tells me he knows I’m checking him out and enjoying every inch of what I see. He’s eyeing me just as intently. We both stand there, staring at one another. Both of us memorized. Before I know it’s happening, I’m in his arms with his lips gently brushing against mine. The kiss starts off soft and sweet. Just as it starts to heat up, a loud, ear-piercing beeping interrupts us. It takes a moment to realize what the sound is, but when I begin to smell smoke, I snap out of it immediately.

“Oh shit!” I scream and run to the stove. Grabbing the handle of the pan, I remove it from the stove and place it in the sink. Then I turn off the stove and open the window. Paul is standing on a chair, removing the batteries from the smoke detector. I’m thankful when the deafening beeping stops. The kitchen is completely filled with smoke. I hand Paul a towel and the two of us try to fan the smoke out the open window. Looking over at the sink, I can’t believe my French toast is burnt to a blackened crisp. So much for the nice breakfast I had planned. I feel like an idiot.

Hopefully he’s not upset with me for ruining his food. I should’ve been paying attention. With that thought, my heart starts to race. The paralyzing fear sets in. The fear I used to have when I knew I did something Ray wouldn’t be happy about. All control I have over myself is gone. Struggling to swallow, I find myself slowly backing away from Paul and cowering down on the kitchen floor. My entire body is shaking. I watch Paul like a hawk, waiting for him to blow up and punish me for ruining our meal. He turns his head, noticing for the first time I’m no longer by his side. When he starts to walk toward me, my eyes immediately fall to the floor. My body stiffens to prepare for the blows I’m expecting him to deliver.

“Holly?” Paul whispers. I look up to see he’s stopped moving in my direction. His hands are raised in a surrender pose and the look on his face...the emotions playing across his face is what snaps me out of whatever this is. It’s a combination of pity, anger, sadness, and terror. The terror is what throws me. What does he have to be scared of? I’m the one on the floor acting like I belong in a strait jacket. “Holly, did I do something to frighten you? If I did, I’m so fucking sorry. I would never hurt you.”

Oh, God.
He thinks my behavior is because of something he’s done. How do I explain to him that I didn’t really think he was going to hurt me, but it’s just habit? This is the type of thing I’ve been afraid of. I have so much baggage, how can I expect anyone to put up with shit like this? Something so small has turned into a major ordeal because of my fucked up past.

“It wasn’t you. I’m so sorry. I’ve spent so many years feeling the wrath of my ex-husband when I did something wrong, or at least, something he thought was wrong…” I pause for a second, trying to gather my thoughts. Do I really want to go into this right now? After that incredible kiss this morning, I could see us having something. For the first time in a long time, I had hope that I might find happiness. Once he hears about all my demons and my screwed up past, he’ll surely run the other way. Who wouldn’t? The feel of his arms scooping me off the floor pulls my attention from my emotional struggle to his handsome face. His eyes are staring straight into mine, a look of understanding on his face; as if he knows the battle I’m fighting. He carries me into the living room and sits down on the couch, leaving me in his arms resting on his lap. Normally, I would find this ridiculous, but with him, there’s something comforting about it. Still gazing into my eyes, he brushes a loose strand of hair away from my eyes.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me that you don’t want to. But you can tell me anything and I can promise you there will be nothing from me but understanding and support,” Paul says with so much sincerity in his voice, I feel the walls I’ve built around my heart start to crack. What is it about this man that makes me feel like I can trust him?

“I want to. You have this way of making me want to open up to you, but it’s so hard for me,” I tell him while burying my head into his shoulder. He holds me a little tighter. I lift my head and look into his comforting eyes. “Trusting has never come easy for me.”

“Just know that I’m here to listen whenever you’re ready,” he says, lightly kissing me on the forehead. “I understand more than you think. The look you had on your face, I’ve seen that same look on my mother’s face more times than I can count. My father was a monster,” he says, looking away, trying to hide the pain that’s so evident in his eyes. He begins to breathe faster, most likely from the memories haunting him. My heart hurts for him. I can just imagine the things his father did to cause the pain he’s fighting so hard to hide. I’m no stranger to that kind of pain or the difficulties of trying to keep it hidden from the rest of the world. When he looks back at me, he reminds me of a frightened child. A child who’s seen horrors no child should ever have to witness. Reaching up, he wipes a tear that just dropped from my eye.

“Ever since I can remember, my father beat my mother. At first, it was every now and then. Usually when he had a really stressful day or had a little too much to drink.” His voice is shaky. It’s easy to see this is difficult for him. Taking his hand in mine, I gently squeeze it, hoping the gesture comforts him. “As I got older, the beatings became more frequent and more brutal. I would butt in to try to stop him, but it never did. It only turned his focus to me. I was okay with that, though. As long as he left my mother alone.”

His entire body is trembling. Still on his lap, I wrap my arms around him, letting him know he’s safe here with me. This urge to protect him, to keep him safe, is so overwhelming. I don’t say a word, I just hold him close, hoping he feels comfortable enough to keep going. I know it’s not easy for him to talk about, but I want him to be able to open up to me. Maybe then, I’ll find the strength to do the same.

“When I was fifteen, I’d finally had enough. After years of abuse and begging my mom to take me and leave him, I just couldn’t take anymore. Somehow, someway, I found the courage I needed to fight back. After that, I swore he’d never hit me again. I also couldn’t sit back and watch her take it anymore. Again, I begged her to go. Instead, she gave me a packed bag and money. She told me to run and never look back, that she wanted me to be free and happy. I ran for my life that day,” he tells me, his voice sad. I’m so glad he can’t see my face because the tears are flowing and I don’t think I’ll be able to stop them. How could she not go with her son? How could a mother just send her son away on his own, not knowing where he was going or if he’d be safe?

“After a while, I went to check on her. I was getting worried. She wasn’t answering any of my calls. When I got there, the house was trashed. It looked like a tornado had come through it. I found them in my bedroom. My father had killed my mother and then himself.” Paul’s body shudders. I lift my head from his chest. When I see the tears falling from his eyes, I want so badly to take them away. I can’t even begin to imagine the hell he went through at such a young age. I wipe the tears from his handsome face.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through any of that,” I tell him sincerely. I know it must have taken a lot for him to tell me about his painful past. And now, he’s going to want to hear about mine. It’s selfish and unfair of me, but I just don’t think I’m ready yet. What if he thinks less of me? He was a child and had no choice but to stay and suffer through the abuse. I was an adult. I had a choice. I was weak and afraid. I stayed and allowed Ray to do unspeakable things to me. I’m so ashamed of myself for not leaving Ray the first time he raised his hand to me.

Paul takes a deep breath and gazes into my eyes. He’s giving me the opportunity to open up to him. To tell him all about the horrors that caused me to act like a complete nut case. The more I think about how he might react or what he’ll think of me, the more nervous I become. I’m just going to tell him I need more time and pray he understands. When he flashes that sexy ass smile, I know he will.

“I have an idea. Let’s get dressed and I’ll take you out for breakfast,” he says while removing me from his lap and placing me on my feet.

“Sounds great. Give me twenty minutes to get ready,” I yell over my shoulder on my way to the bathroom. He comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. His lips are close to my ear, so close I can feel his warm breath move across it.

“You don’t have to tell me anything until you’re completely comfortable. I promise, I’ll never pressure you into anything,” he whispers. After kissing my neck and sending goose bumps all over my body, he releases his grip on me and is out the door.

I really hope he’s truly the man he seems to be. God knows I’m obviously not the best judge of character. Whatever it is that tells me whether a guy is good or bad is broken. After all, I thought Ray was a wonderful man I’d spend the rest of my life with. Eventually, I know he’ll need to know about my past, but thankfully, today is not that day.