If Only (11 page)

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded, his voice cold as ice. His midnight blue eyes shot daggers in Susan’s direction.

She cleared her throat as her shaking hands placed his vodka down in front of him. She gasped when his strong hands clamped down onto her wrists.

“I asked you a question, and I demand an answer,” he spat out forcefully, his fingers tightening around her wrists like a vise.

Susan was afraid of the anger she saw lurking in his eyes. This wasn’t the man she had fancied herself to be in love with. This man was the formidable monster Bree had described.

“Come sit down by me,” Bryan demanded, dropping her wrists.

She shook her head in refusal, watching anger flash in his blue eyes. She folded her arms against her chest, her olive green gaze locking with his angry blue one.

“We n-need to t-talk,” she began, hating the sound of her stammering. She began twisting her hands and then placed them on her slender hips before deciding against it and dropping them to her sides. She refused to meet his angry eyes as she continued, “I am sick and tired of this game you seem to be playing with me. I think it’s time for you to do what you have been promising me and leave your wife.”

At these words, Bryan grasped his drink with one hand, tightening his fist around the glass, causing it to shatter in all directions. Nonchalantly, he looked down at his closed fist, which was beginning to trickle blood. Without a word, he reached into the jacket pocket of his expensive business suit and removed a hand-stitched silk handkerchief, which he wrapped around his wounded hand.

He stood up quickly and grabbed her by the hair, staring into her eyes, his own darkening with anger.

“Now why in the hell would I ever do something like that?” he demanded.

“Because you love me,” she insisted, although now she was beginning to doubt her own words.

“I don’t love you,” he scoffed as one hand came up to roughly stroke the side of her face. She shivered beneath his touch. “I have never loved you,” he confessed with a cruel chuckle. “And I never will love you,” Bryan stated simply, his midnight blue gaze emotionless as he looked at her. “And I have told you before, more than once—my marriage is none of your damn business.”

Susan watched as he turned on his heel and walked toward the front door. His hand was on the doorknob when she blurted out, “I’m pregnant.” As soon as she said the words, she clapped her hand across her mouth, cursing herself for being so stupid.

His midnight gaze hardened, his eyes resembling blue chips of ice. He whirled around to face her, his long legs covering the distance between them in merely seconds. “You’re what?” he growled as he grabbed her by the shoulders.

“I’m pregnant,” she repeated.

“Get rid of it,” Bryan answered as he placed his hands into the pockets of his slacks. He turned around and walked back toward the front door.

“No,” she said firmly.

“You self-righteous little bitch,” he whispered out loud as the last shred of his self-control snapped. With both hands, he slammed the door with every ounce of strength in his body. The force rattled the walls of her apartment, causing the picture frames to come crashing down in a rain of glass shattering at Bryan’s feet.

Susan watched as he purposely stepped on the broken glass, crunching it into small pieces with his tasseled loafers.

“You might want to rethink that decision,” he ordered as he turned back around, waiting for her reaction. “I would hate to see something happen to you,” he threatened with malice. “Accidents happen all the time.”

She backed away from him, her eyes widening with alarm as he began to approach her. She looked around, searching her living room for a weapon, any weapon. He laughed cruelly, the sound of it sending shivers running up and down Susan’s spine. She had never seen him act in this way. It was terrifying.

*

Bryan stalked toward her, his anger spiraling out of control. He was so enraged he couldn’t focus his attention on anything else but the woman standing in front of him. With one word, she could ruin everything. His marriage, his career, his entire future. And in that instant, he knew he would do anything to keep her from talking. Anything.

His hands closed around the delicate column of her throat, and then he grabbed her by the shoulders and tossed her body carelessly onto the sofa. Her head banged against the armrest as he began slamming his fist repeatedly into her stomach.

Susan’s olive eyes were glazed with pain as she looked at the man she had convinced herself that she loved. She whispered, “Bree was right about you. You are a monster.”

Bryan dropped the throw pillow he had been holding, seriously entertaining the thought of smothering Susan with her own damn pillow. He grabbed her, shaking her roughly as he demanded, “Just what in the hell are you talking about? You stupid bitch,” he grumbled underneath his breath. “Why the hell would your sister-in-law talk to you about me? She doesn’t even know me!”

She stared up at him, her eyes glass. She laughed, a short, brittle laugh. “Bree Weston can read you like a book,” she explained, covering her abdomen with one hand. “She knows about you. She knows everything about you.”

“You’re out of your bloody mind,” he scoffed as he stared down at her. “You don’t know what the hell you are talking about.”

*

Susan watched as he got to his feet and started toward the door. She grimaced as she crawled off the couch and onto the floor. “Bree knows you are married and having an affair. She knew I had taken a pregnancy test and it had come out positive. She even predicted exactly what would happen here tonight. Not to change the subject, but has your wife had three miscarriages?”

She watched with fascination as he turned and stared at her, his midnight blue gaze wild and disbelieving. But her triumph was short-lived. He crossed the floor in four quick strides and then grasped her by the shoulders, slamming her body against the wall. “How in the hell did you know that?” he demanded.

“Bree told me. She told me a lot of things. She predicted everything you said, and she knew exactly what you were going to do to me.”

“If you want to live to see another day, you will tell me how,” he threatened as his hands tightened their hold.

Susan’s only response was to spit in Bryan’s face.

“You bitch!” he screamed as he smashed his fist into her face. “Tell me! Or I swear,” he bullied as he grabbed the throw pillow and dangled it above her head, “I will hold this pillow over your mouth until you stop struggling.”

She had come to the point where she simply wanted the pain to stop. He had won. She shrugged her shoulders as her eyes struggled to focus on his face. “I don’t know!” she insisted. “She claimed that in another life, she had been married to you. She said she had broken up with my brother for you and that you were an abusive monster. Imagine that,” she said.

“You’re both insane,” he muttered as he loosened his grip on her.

“She knows everything about you! Everything!”

Susan’s voice was the last thing Bryan heard as he spun on his heel and left the apartment, shaking his head. He needed to speak face-to-face with Bree Weston and find out just how much she actually knew. He couldn’t afford to have any loose ends. A disturbing smile spread across his face. He loved taking care of loose ends.

* * * *

Scott cut the car’s engine with a grin spreading across his face. He looked over at Bree, who had fallen asleep. As he continued to examine his wife, he noticed she seemed fretful, as though in the throes of another bad dream. Then without any warning, she began screaming, crying out his sister’s name. She started shaking her head back and forth, as though she was trying to rid her mind of the nightmare.

Bree lashed out at him, her hands closing into tight fists as she began hitting him. He tried to ward off her blows as he struggled to remember how he had awakened her the last time she had one of these nightmares.

“Bree?” he called, his hands grabbing her wrists, trying to prevent her from hurting him or herself.

“No,” she cried out as she struggled to free her hands from his grip. “Let me go,” she screamed. “Let me go!”

“Bree,” he continued, his voice increasing in volume. “Bree, it’s me. It’s Scott. Please wake up and talk to me.”

The sight of Bree opening her eyes made Scott sigh with relief. He had never been so relieved to see them open and widen with recognition. Those eyes focused on his face, and she gasped with comprehension as her nightmare came flooding back. “Where are we?” she demanded.

“I drove us to the tree farm,” he explained, grinning. “I thought we should come up here and pick out our Christmas tree.” He reached over to unbuckle his seatbelt, pausing when he felt her hand on his arm.

“We have to go,” she said, her words coming out in a rush. “We have to get to Susan.”

Scott couldn’t help but grin at his wife. She was so cute when she was concerned. She got these little wrinkles underneath her eyes. Of course, he had no intention of telling her that. “Susan’s fine,” he assured her with a placating smile.

Bree shook her head adamantly. “No, you don’t understand,” she insisted. “She isn’t fine. She’s in big trouble. She needs us. We have to go. We have to go now!”

He sighed, somewhat annoyed, as he looked over at his wife. Susan was a big girl, and she was extremely independent. She would definitely be irritated if they burst through her front door and interfered with her life. Especially her love life.

“Susan’s a big girl; she can take care of herself.”

She stared at her husband, not quite believing what she was hearing. He had such a thick skull sometimes. It made her want to slap him. “Do you not realize who she showed up with at the skating rink today? She brought Bryan Sexton, our boss and my ex-husband!”

She reached across him and made sure his seatbelt was still fastened. “He is hurting her! We have to get over there, right now!” she insisted as she grabbed the key, which was still in the ignition, and turned it with one swift motion. The car instantly started, and Bree reached over and grabbed the gearshift, pushing it into drive.

Luckily, Scott still had his right foot on the brake. “Bree, baby,” he started, and she fought to keep her temper in check. “I’m sure she’s fine. I’ll call her.”

Bree sighed as he took his cell phone out of his pocket. She tapped her foot on the floorboard as she stared at him, her green gaze filled with irritation. She stopped, however, when her husband’s facial features turned into a frown.

“She isn’t answering her phone,” he stated as he examined the telephone he was holding in his hand.

“Now will you believe me?” she demanded.

Scott whirled to look at his wife. Her green eyes were flashing with anger, and she looked genuinely concerned for Susan’s welfare. What if she was right? Again? He couldn’t explain what was going on, but his wife had an uncanny way of knowing exactly what was going to happen. He watched her again. Bree was biting on her lower lip so hard he was afraid she was going to make herself bleed. And if Bryan Sexton was even half the monster Bree seemed to think he was…

Without another word, he removed his foot from the brake pedal and then put the gearshift into reverse. Looking behind him to make sure the coast was clear, he began backing the car out of the parking lot. Maybe this was simply one of his wife’s nightmares, but if he was a betting man, he would bet on his wife. Each and every time.

Chapter 8

Picking out a Christmas tree the next day was a somber affair. Usually, this was the time of year when both of them shone. They both absolutely adored Christmas, which was the reason they had decided to get married on Christmas. But the previous evening’s events weighed heavily on both of their minds.

Each one of the trees was beautiful, and under normal circumstances, Bree would have been as excited as a kid in a candy store. Freshly fallen snow draped the branches of the trees, the melting ice glistening like delicate diamonds. Every inch of the ground was covered with snow, and it crunched beneath her feet as she walked along the icy path.

She sighed out loud as she stroked the sharp needles of a nearby pine tree. She looked up at her husband, only to find his brown eyes watching her intently. She self-consciously tucked a stray auburn curl behind her ear as she met his steady stare. There was no doubt about it, something was on his mind. She could practically see the wheels turning in his head.

*

After they had arrived at Susan’s house, and Scott had seen in person the damage Bryan Sexton could cause, what his wife had previously claimed kept running through his mind. He wasn’t sure what he should believe, but somehow, Bree’s story wasn’t as farfetched as it had originally seemed.

Thanks to his very persistent wife, his sister was alive. Battered and bruised, but alive.

After they had taken her to the emergency room and spent half the night sleeping rather uncomfortably in orange, plastic waiting room chairs, Susan had been released from the hospital with two cracked ribs and an assortment of contusions, bumps, and bruises.

Since she had also been diagnosed as suffering from a slight concussion, Susan had stayed the night with their mother. And to Susan’s immense relief, she had also discovered she wasn’t pregnant, just as she had claimed Bree had told her. It was unbelievable to Scott just how accurate his wife’s predictions were becoming.

Which made him wonder exactly what was going on with his wife, and just how much pain, abuse, and neglect Bryan Sexton had inflicted upon her. If what she said was true, the man had made her life a living hell. It was amazing to Scott that she wasn’t cowering in a corner somewhere.

She looked so lost and forlorn standing there with her arms wrapped protectively around herself. The haunted expression had come back into her eyes and he wished he could simply hold her in his arms and take all of her pain away.

*

Bree blew on her hands, attempting in vain to chase away the winter chill. Even though it was so dreadfully cold, winter was by far her favorite season. She absolutely adored the snow, she loved seeing everybody so happy and cheerful, and she enjoyed watching the happiness and anticipation on each child’s face. There always seemed to be a magic in the air this time of year that made her feel as though anything was possible. It made her want to believe in Rudolph and the reindeer, and Santa Claus again. She grinned at her whimsical thoughts as she wrapped her coat even tighter around her trembling frame.