Page 56 of The Obsession
“Your furniture should be here soon,” I say. “When I’m done in here, I’ll get my shit out of the spare room to make space for it.”
Her fingers knot together in front of her. “Can I help with something?”
“No,” I grumble, then let out a long, frustrated breath when her face falls. “Sure … if you want.” I’m not used to sharing my space with others. I’m accustomed to having Lil’ Peach here, but even that took some adjusting to in the beginning. Sliding the egg carton into the fridge, I move back to the brown paper bags lined up on the countertop and pull out two boxes of cereal. “These go in that cupboard over there,” I say, holding them out to her and flicking my chin towards where I want them. “I’ll give you a tour of the layout when we’re done. This is your home for however long you decide to stay, so I want you to be comfortable.”
When I turn back to the bags, I feel her hand come to rest on my upper arm. It’s light, hesitant, but it still hits like a jolt. “Thank you for letting me stay here, Dom. I’ll try to stay out of your way as much as I can. I’m going to ask for some extra shifts at La Riviera so I can save enough to either get my own place, or I might even consider moving back to Queensland.”
My stomach drops. “Queensland?”
“Yes, that’s where my mum and her handsy husband live. I know she’s already turned my old bedroom into her craft room, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if I returned until I get back on my feet.”
My muscles coil tight, and my spine locks up. I’m not sure if it’s the thought of her leaving the state, or if it’s the comment about her mother’s handsy husband.
“Your stepfather touches you?” My words rip out of me, sharp and furious, as something ugly surges inside.
“Umm … not sexually,” she says quickly as her eyes drop to the floor, “but enough to make me feel uncomfortable.”
“And what does your mother think about that?”
I glance over and catch the way she winces before she answers. “I mentioned it once, kind of in passing, and she accused me of trying to sabotage her happiness.”
My teeth grind together. “Then you’re not going back there. If it comes to it, I’ll pay for you to get your own place, but I’m not letting you set foot in that house again. I won’t stand for that shit.”
Her head rears back in shock. “You can’t stop me from seeing my mother, Dominic,” she bites.
“I never said that.”
“You kind of did.”
“I won’t let you go there alone, Emily.”
Her pretty blue eyes narrow, and I like this feisty side of her. “You won’t let me?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Actually, I don’t.”
“If that handsy fucker is going to be there, then I’ll be there, too.”
“To do what?” she asks.
“Make sure he keeps his hands to himself.”
“And if he touches me?”
“Then he and I are going to have a problem.”
She gasps, turning her face just enough that I can’t read it. Her lips part, close, and then part again, like she’s fighting with herself, trying to decide whether to snap, and fuck I hope she does. I think sassy Emily is going to become one of my favourite looks on her, but then her shoulders sag, and all she manages is a quiet, “Can we change the subject?”
I’m left feeling disappointed, more at the situation than at her. Her gentle nature is what drew me in from the first day we met, but there’s a point where gentle slips into unguarded.
She doesn’t deserve to be walked over by anyone, least of all the people who claim to love her.
If she’s going to stand her ground in this world, she’s going to need someone to show her how. Someone to remind her that softness doesn’t mean surrender.
“Fine by me,” I deadpan. That topic of conversation was pissing me off anyway.
I reach back into the bag and start pulling out the fruit. I usually stick to the basics—apples and bananas—but Emily went rogue. She tossed in mangoes, grapes, watermelon, and enough vegetables to stock a small farm.
