Same/Difference (The Depth of Emotion #4) (22 page)

Paige stiffened as her voice waivered. “Our kitchen window was big. It was what they call a picture window. When the lightning struck, I was blinded—and I was terrified.”

“I can see why,” Falcon assured her. “Something like that would have been enough to scare any little kid.”

She turned and looked up at him with fresh pain in her eyes. “It was my fault. I wasn’t paying attention, I just wanted my momma.”

He brushed a tear from her cheek and his chest tightened. He couldn’t imagine how scared she’d been back then, but it killed him to see the anguish she was going through now, just to tell him.

“I busted out from under that table so fast that I knocked the chair over! I was so unnerved that I fell into the cabinets. Unfortunately, I grabbed at whatever I could to break my fall. It just happened to be the cord to the skillet.”

Falcon’s jaw tightened as her voice quivered. He saw where this horrific story was going. The mental images made him want to take her in his arms and erase all the bad thoughts. He swallowed the lump in his throat and held her tight.

“I pulled it over on me,” she choked out a whisper. “The hot grease… it hit me… it spilled everywhere.”

He closed his eyes as he held her. Her voice was so strained that he drowned in the emotion. She was shaking and it took a few minutes for her to continue and, even then the recollection frayed her so badly she was hoarse.

“After that, memories are sketchy. I remember it hurt, but I don’t remember the pain. I remember the ambulance, but I drifted in and out of consciousness. My family refused to leave me by myself, even if it killed them to see how much pain I was in. Every time I woke up either my mom or dad was with me. They even brought my big brother up to see me to give me a feeling of normalcy because Ricky was my best friend and obnoxious defender. He never antagonized me after that and was always nice and sweet. He didn’t tease me like he did when we played at home, but he couldn’t cuddle me either. I cried a lot. It hurt so badly when they changed the bandages. At the time, I didn’t understand why my momma and daddy were letting them hurt me, but the pain lessened in time. Over the next several years I had many surgeries to repair the damage, but I still had a lot of scarred skin.”

She paused and sucked in a few breaths. He grabbed a Kleenex and placed it in her hand. She released a sob while he patiently waited. He picked her up like she weighed nothing and put her on his lap. When she didn’t object and he leaned her head against his shoulder. The moment that she was safe in his arms she released a flood of emotion and cried bitter tears for the child that she was and the woman who had, just recently, put all of these remembered pieces together. Her nose was stuffy and her voice was ragged. Falcon thought that he’d heard the rest of the story, but he was wrong. She held the tissue in a tight fist as she continued.

“I was in the third grade when the teasing began. I had to keep my skin covered for several months after each surgery. There was a group of little girls…they called me
mummy
and some other things. I got cold easily during that time and my grandmother crocheted a little wrap that went around my shoulders and buttoned. That earned me another list of creative names from the little darlings. I was the same girl on the inside; I just looked different on the outside. I guess the kids didn’t understand the extent of what happened any more than I did, but they were cruel instead of nice, and I was a tenderhearted little girl. I couldn’t understand why no one wanted to be my friend. I always tried to be kind to them but it was no use. I snuck toys into my book bag and gave them away just so they would like me. No matter how I tried to get them to accept me they never did. Even when they didn’t call me names, whenever I got near them they acted like I had a disease. I very quickly began to isolate myself.”

She sat up and moved her hair to reveal back of her head. “There’s a spot right here.” She circled an area with her finger and he leaned up to look. “A dollop of grease hit there before it trickled down. It’s a bald spot. The grease killed the follicles. No hair grows there.”

She tugged the hair in the designated area. “This is a hairpiece. When we were little, Aria told me that when she grew up she was going to fix my hair so pretty that nobody would ever make fun of me again. She went to a vocational high school and got a cosmetology license. Once she graduated, she researched and learned how to apply hairpieces with skin safe adhesives. I can usually wear one for a week or two before I have to change it.”

Falcon was puzzled. “I thought Aria ran a home improvement business?”

“She does, but she did hair before that. She taught me how to cover the bald spot. Before that, I tried to cover it over with my other hair. The spot was sore for the longest time and I would massage it. It became a nervous habit, like a tic. When I was upset I would rub it and rub it. It felt good and, so I’ve been told, it was a form of
self-soothing
. I managed with it just fine until one day in high school.”

“As we grew up, the little darlings became teenage demonlings. They knew about my scars, but they didn’t know about my hair. They still teased me, but not as much. At least, not until one day after gym class. That day the girls were especially mean. I don’t know what set them off but they were calling me names all through gym class. Afterward, I tried to stay under their radar. I thought I had gone into the shower unnoticed, but they saw me. They waited for me. I was wrapped in a towel in the middle of an arc of girls. My hair was soaking wet and plastered to my shoulders. When I tried to go past them they all saw the bald spot. That was when they called me some new names
Baldie…Moonhead…Spot.
”

He swallowed the lump in his throat as she leaned, exhausted, against him.

“Anyway, I couldn’t wait to get home that day. I ran into my room and slammed the door. I rocked back and forth and rubbed the spot. I hated it and before I knew it I had pulled out a few hairs—and it felt good. I only did a little bit that day but every time after that there was a little more. The more I pulled the better I felt. It was my release.”

“Jesus, Paige. What did your parents say?” His heart broke with every new revelation.

She shrugged. “What could they say? They didn’t know. I was pulling for six months or so when my mom walked in and caught me. I think she blamed herself. It was terrible. She cried and so did I. I was so ashamed. I felt like I had let them down because they tried so hard to help me. She made an appointment with a dermatologist and both she and my dad went to it with me. I was diagnosed with Trichotillomania and referred to a therapist. Both of them said that stress was a trigger. My parents thought it was all a delayed reaction from the accident because I kept quiet about what the girls did to me. I was put on an anti-depressant.”

Her eyes were dark, rimmed from the runny, tear-moistened mascara. “I flushed the pills down the toilet because I didn’t like the way they made me feel- weird. I never told my parents.”

He was crushed by her pain and sliced by her anguish. He handed her a few more tissues. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. She gave him a weak smile.

“I had a few more plastic surgeries when I was in college. The doctors tell me that this is the best I can hope for. Aria, Liz, and now you, are the only people that know about the accident. I haven’t told anyone else. And as far as the pulling? Other than my parents, you are the only one who knows.”

She moved down and laid her head in his lap. She was weak from the emotional burden she’d carried alone for so long. Silently, he alternated stroking her back and hair. He was so heartbroken for, and proud of, her. She hid all of this so well that no one—
NO ONE
—would suspect what she’d gone through. She disguised it perfectly. Too perfectly.

He digested her confession as she lay quietly. Still living in a hell created by the taunts of careless children, her perception of herself was damaged. She didn’t see herself as the beautiful woman that others did, including him and he wanted to unveil her eyes. Her trust in him was evident. It would have been impossible for her to tell him otherwise. The question was how could he get through to her that there was more to her than her appearance, and have her believe it? He knew so much more about her now, and what she revealed was huge, but he had to get through to her that, while her story was important, there were other things he wanted to know. This accident and her disorder were not the things that defined her. There was so much more that made her the woman he desired. Things like her favorite color and her favorite flowers; he wanted to know what made her laugh. After learning all of this, he knew what made her cry.
As in Las Vegas, he felt that when he was with her there was nowhere else he’d rather be. As she poured out her heart he felt a shift in their relationship, a deepening where a quarry of hurt could be healed with love. Even sitting quietly with her there was no denying their connection. He didn’t need words.

Hopefully she felt the same.

P
aige lifted her head and kissed him gently on the cheek. Her fingers brushed against his hair. She rested her forehead against his and when she looked down she saw the makeup stains on her shirt. When she tried to brush them away the remnants smeared. She frowned.

“Looks like I made a mess.” Her nose was stuffy and her eyes were red. “I’ll be right back. I need to clean up.”

She walked down the hallway toward the bedroom and stopped in the bathroom before she changed her shirt. He listened to the distinct sounds of running water and her nose being blown. Following the sounds, he caught a glimpse of her shoulder. He trailed behind. As she changed, he leaned against the doorframe, admiring the view. Sensing his presence, she turned around. A moonlit glow illuminated her face. The magnetic force that drew him to her was undeniable. Her exposed vulnerability was a gift and he felt the sudden urge to force away every painful memory she carried.

By loving her.

He took a few short steps and crushed her to him. She was forced to stand on tiptoes to meet his lips. One taste and he was addicted all over again. Her perfume drugged him and made him crave every inch of her. His fingers went through the mass of curls and he cupped her head. He kissed her deeply as his tongue sought entry. He savored her velvety feel. Eagerly, he roamed down her neck and over her curves and she sighed. He enjoyed the sweet sensation of her body after having been denied it for so long. She pressed against him, encouraging him to explore.

Falcon wanted her so badly he was like a man half starved. He kissed her neck, his lips searing her with molten heat as he moved toward the hollow of her throat. Her pulse beat against his tongue and he kissed his way down, following the fullness of her breasts. His hands lingered on her skin, pressing down as he slid the straps over her shoulders. He reached behind her and made small work of unhooking the clasp. The lacey cups tumbled gently down, revealing tips that were firm and erect. They demanded his attention and he took pleasure in teasing them with his thumbs. Small gasps escaped her and her head fell back. She looked like a beautiful piece of fine art as her back bowed and arched He dug his fingers into her hips, wanting her so badly that it tested his control. But after so many months apart Falcon refused to be rushed. Although she may have had other sexual experiences, he was confident that tonight would be her first time making love. He had lain awake many nights coming to conclusions and making decisions.
This
was worth fighting for. He was determined that her demons wouldn’t stand a chance against them both.

Paige fell back onto the bed. She looked like a Grecian goddess in the night’s light. Her hair fully fanned out on a pillow of blue was one of the prettiest sights he’d ever seen. He cupped her breast with eager hands and adoringly kissed them. One was perfect and one was scarred. He loved them equally, laving his tongue over each tight point. Her gasps turned to moans and the graduation aroused him like never before.

Hooking his thumbs inside the band of her sheer panties, he slid them slowly over her hips. He teased her thighs with feather-like strokes and kissed all the way down to her slender ankles. Pausing only long enough to see the passion in her expression, he continued, this time burning her with kisses all the way back up to her hips. She sucked in a breath as his lips touched the skin below her navel. He controlled and worshipped her as he surrendered on his knees to her loveliness. His hot breath fell on her skin and he craved to taste her. Her fingers sought to grip his hair but he reached up and took her wrists captive. He moved slightly so she could see his face and his expression gave her a warning that, before the night was over, her body and her scars would surrender to his desire.

He touched the marred flesh and gauged her reaction. With each kiss she relinquished a little more of her bruised heart. Her body responded to his touch with lust and passion, giving him the answers that he sought. Just as her body had healed, so would her heart and he was determined to make her malevolent thoughts his prisoners. His tongue teased and controlled. She responded beautifully with a desire he ached to satisfy. She looked at him, her gaze hot and wanton, and her voice breathless.