Read Vision in Trust (Legends of the North #2) Online
Authors: Liz Bower
She realised her mouth was open, and she pressed her lips together.
How did I not know this about him?
He shifted in his seat then lined his knife up with his placemat. "What?"
"That's amazing, Rob. I can't believe you never told any of us. We could have helped."
With a shrug, he took a long pull on his beer before finally looking at her. "It's nothing. I just ... You know, if there had been something like that when I was a kid ..."
Jess gently put her fork down on the plate. He had said it was for kids who had been abused. Did that mean ...? What did that mean?
"That," he said. "That look on your face, that's why I didn't say anything before. Or the looks of pity. The look of, 'I wonder what happened,' or how 'all kids need to be disciplined.' How maybe it was my fault, and the shame my mum—"
"Rob."
He stopped talking and glanced at her, but none of that was showing on her face.
"I get it, I really do. You don't have to tell me anything, but you don't have to feel ashamed or embarrassed, not with me. I don't think it was your fault." They looked at each other across the table, silence between them, and she wondered if she'd said too much.
"Is that what you tell yourself too?" he asked quietly.
Dropping her gaze, she twisted the napkin on her knee, because he was right. She blamed herself for what had happened, ashamed of it. She reached for her beer and took a gulp.
"Didn't think so. It's not that easy, is it?" At the touch of his hand on hers, she met his gaze. "As my father liked to tell me, after the better half of a bottle of whiskey, if it wasn't for me they wouldn't still be together, let alone married. Mum got the worst of it like he was punishing her for getting pregnant, because it had nothing to do with him.
“When I reached my teens, that's when he started to hit me. Told me it was for my own good, that I needed to learn how to take a beating, apparently. His way of teaching me how to defend myself," Rob said, with a huff of a laugh that sounded anything but amused.
His hand was still on hers, so she flipped hers over, linking their fingers together.
"I started taking classes after school, and one day ... I'd had enough. He thought he was so tough, picking on a woman and a kid. I don't know. I guess I just snapped and couldn't take it that time. So I hit him back, landed him on his arse, blood pouring from his nose.
“I thought Mum would be glad he was gone, but she had to work another job after that, and in her own twisted way, I think she actually loved him. I don't regret it, and I'll never let a bully rule my life again, Jess."
She nodded because she understood, but she wasn't sure she was that brave. Hadn't she spent the last six years of her life hiding from Miles in London?
"Tell me what's going on inside that head, Jess."
Giving him a weak smile, she said, "It's just how little I know about you, how little I know
you
."
"You do know me, Jess, who I am now. It's just my past you don't know about. But it made me who I am now, and that's what matters. That's who you know."
As Jess sat curled up on one end of the sofa, he glanced her way and thought it was true. She
did
know him, was one of the few who really did. With her, he didn't need to put on his "I can handle anything act. So he'd let her in, just like she had with him. She'd dealt with it without pity or blame, just accepted him and his past.
But it was getting late, and he knew he should probably leave, except he didn't want to. What he wanted was for Jess to catch up with where he was. Which, after opening up to her, actually talking to her, and not just trying to get into her underwear, was well and truly on the way to falling for her.
"What?"
So lost in his own thoughts, he hadn't realised he was staring at her. "What?"
"You've been staring at me for the last five minutes."
"Sorry. I was just thinking."
"About?" she asked, as she turned to face him. She tucked her legs beneath her and rested her cheek on the back of the sofa.
"The drop-in centre." Not entirely a lie, since it was always on his mind at the moment. Or at the back of it if he was thinking of Jess.
"Are you going to be helping out, once it's open?"
Rob shifted so he was facing her too. "I'm going to be running self-defense classes, for kids to start off with, but I'd like to run one specifically for women too." Jess sat up straight at his words, and he wondered if she'd want to join.
"I want to help."
He hadn't been expecting her to say that. "What? With the classes?"
Shaking her head, she said, "No. Although it wouldn't be a bad idea for me to take a class."
With a smile, he told her, "I could teach you self-defense whenever you want."
"Thank you. And I want to help at the drop-in centre. I don't have any work experience in that area, but I have an A-level in psychology and a degree in social work. It's what I want to do, to be able to help others."
"I thought you'd already applied for a job like that. This wouldn't pay anything." At his words, her head dropped. He wished he could change it, but there was no money to pay anyone yet.
"I didn't get the job, not enough experience working with children. Or work in general. So I'm still working at the deli, but I could volunteer around that. I could just sit in with the other counsellors until they're convinced I can handle it. I can do this, Rob, I swear."
Of course she could; he didn't doubt her for a second. With a smile, he thought of the perfect deal. "I will speak to the counsellors—" Jess squealed and clapped until he held up a hand. "But on one condition. That you let me stay here tonight."
The excitement disappeared as her eyebrows scrunched together. "What?"
"You want to volunteer, and I want to stay here tonight."
Tilting her head, she studied him, like he'd grown another head. "Why?"
With a little sigh, he leaned forward and took her hand in his. "It's been an emotional day. We've talked about things that are probably best left buried, so I want to stay, to make sure you're okay. I told you, Jess, I like you, and I don't mean just as a friend. I want more.”
***
Jess swallowed hard. More? How much more? And when he said "stay here," where
exactly
was "here"?
Before she could ask, he said, "I'll sleep on the sofa, I don't care. Just—"
"Okay, you can stay." If she was honest, the thought of spending the night alone didn't appeal. He was right; after her run-in with Miles and their heart-to-heart, she felt a little vulnerable.
He followed her upstairs, where she abruptly turned straight into him. Her palms flattened against his chest, and she could feel the heat of him through his T-shirt. His muscles flexed in response to her touch, and her tongue flicked across her lips, wetting them.
"You should just use Emma's bed, she won't mind," she said, taking a step back.
Not wanting to push her, he nodded and gently brushed his lips across hers before heading to Emma's room. "Good night, Jess," he called over his shoulder.
Jess lay in bed, fingers pressed to her lips, eyes wide open. He wanted more? Did she? She hadn't particularly wanted Miles and look how
that
had turned out. But Rob was everything Miles wasn't.
Obviously, she was attracted to him; after all, she wasn't blind. It hadn't felt scary agreeing to be with Miles. But Rob was who she wanted, and he was only across the hall, but she was too scared to do anything about it. With thoughts of Rob—and more—swirling around her head, she finally fell asleep.
Jess lifted her head towards the sky, and the fine drizzle coated her face. Despite the mildness of the night, she held back a shudder. Her pyjamas began to cling to her skin, the rain seeping through the material. Turning, she tried to make out where she was. Fenced in by hedgerows to either side of her, she could hear the murmur of flowing water nearby—the River Alten, which meant she was down by Alt Hall. Except, where the hall should’ve been, there was nothing but fields. And at the top of the lane, she could see the outline of a huge structure, one she'd never seen before.
A cry carried across the open fields, followed by a chorus of cheers. The sounds were coming from the same direction as the flickering, orange glow surrounding the building.
Starting towards the sounds, she hesitated, her foot sinking into soft, wet mud. It oozed through her toes, and as she pulled her foot free, it squelched from the suction. Her whole foot was covered in mud, but she saw no other way. Carefully, she made her way through it, mud covering both feet. As she neared the building, the shouts of laughter grew louder; it sounded like a party. The orange glow transformed into burning torches that made shadows dance across the stone walls. Walls that, in the darkness, seemed to stretch on forever.
Behind those walls was where the noise and celebrations were coming from. Glancing over her shoulder, there was no one around, but she still had no idea where she was. As one voice became clearer above the din, she pressed herself flat against the cold, hard stone.
Two men, she assumed, walked through the archway in the stone wall, carrying goblets and swaying. They had on what looked like a dress that stopped just below the knee. On their feet were sandals that wrapped around their ankles, crisscrossing up their calves. Over the top of the dress was some kind of corset thing. Were they having a fancy dress party? If so, she wasn't sure she'd fit in very well.
As their voices and shadows disappeared, she crept along the side of the wall towards the archway. Checking around one last time, seeing nothing, she peered around the archway wall and inhaled sharply. Straight in front of her was a wooden building, supported by wooden posts.
But that wasn't what made her hold her breath. No, that would’ve been the man tied to the wooden posts, by what appeared to be a plant. It looked like ivy, and it was wound around his legs, stomach and arms, tethering him to the post.
Only he didn't look like any man she had ever seen before. His face flickered, illuminated in the light, and then plunged into shadow by the light of the flames. His eyes were sunken; they looked like black holes beneath the shelf of an eyebrow. A bone stuck out where his eyebrows should have been. Hollow cheekbones above a slack mouth that revealed glints of long, narrow teeth when the flames caught them. Pulling on his restraints, his head rolled back as though staring straight at her.
"Sins of the fathers thee shall reap." He shouted the words at her, and she took a step back. "Sins of the fathers thee shall reap." Again and again, he repeated those words until she screamed. She turned to run, but her feet lodged in the mud and she fell on her hands and knees.
"Sins of the fathers thee shall reap."
She screamed again as his words echoed around her, and she finally managed to wrench her foot free. Scrambling to her feet, she ran through the archway into the dark.
Her screams died as she was blinded by the light, still confused about where she was. But then her gaze settled on Rob, standing in the doorway, and she took a deep breath. Watched him walk slowly towards her bed, arms held out at his sides, palms up.
"It's okay. Everything's okay," he said, as he knelt on the bed beside her.
The softness of his voice, after the man's harsh screams, made her eyes sting.
"I'm here. Everything will be okay."
It was the caring tone of his words that set her tears free. Slowly, as though handling a fragile package, he wrapped his arms around her. Pulled her against his hard, warm chest, where she rested her cheek. She could hear the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear, felt the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. She timed her own breathing to his, to slow hers and calm herself. Placing her hand over his ribs, she felt his sharp intake of breath.
"You're freezing, Jess."
As if her body heard his statement, her teeth began to chatter.
Rob leaned away from her and said, "Freezing ... and covered in ... what is that?"
Looking down at Rob, she saw a streak of something across his chest and lifted her hands; they were covered in mud. Glancing down at herself, she realised her top was plastered to her skin and muddy too, as were her pyjama bottoms and feet. She lifted her gaze to meet Rob’s, and he brushed his thumb beneath her eye.
"Shh, it's okay. It doesn't matter."
"I don't know ..."
Anything.
What her vision meant, who the man was, or how she was covered in mud while also being wrapped in her bedsheets.
"Doesn't matter right now," he said as he lifted her off the bed. "Let's get you clean and warm. We can worry about the rest later." He carried her towards the bathroom, pressing a kiss to her forehead as her eyes closed.
As she stood under the hot spray of the shower, her shoulders relaxed, the everyday surroundings and the smell of her lime shower gel grounding her in the present. Made the otherworldliness of her vision fade into what felt like a bad dream, now that the mud had disappeared down the drain. But his words still echoed in her mind as she wrapped a towel around herself and headed back to her bedroom.
Sins of the fathers thee shall reap.
What did it even mean? Whose father? What sins? Was it a quote from the Bible? Tugging on clean, fleecy pyjamas, she noticed Rob had already changed the bedding. She made her way downstairs, where she heard Rob in the kitchen.
"Hey." He gave her the sweetest smile she'd ever seen on his face, and her heart felt like it was being squeezed.
"I thought you might want something hot to drink, so I'm making hot chocolate."
"Sounds great, thanks."
Rob carried both mugs into the living room as she followed him, and he handed a mug to her once she sat down. "Do you want to talk about it?"
She blew on her drink, sending steam into her face and the smell of chocolate around her. With a shrug, she said, "Not really. What I want is to pretend it never happened. But that's not going to happen, is it? Because much as I'd like to forget it, I have to admit that something is going on. These visions, for want of a better word, mean something. That you were in them, and James and Miles even means something. And ignoring them isn't going to help and isn't going to stop them."