Ashleigh’s eyes watered and she bit her lip until she could taste the metallic bitterness of blood.
Jake slashed one of his hands through the air like a knife and continued bitterly. ‘I had no respite. From the day my mother died when I was three I lived with a madman. Not a day went past when I didn’t have fear turning my guts to gravy while he watched and waited, timing his next hit for maximum effect.’ He strode to the window once more, the next flash of angry lightning outlining his tall body as he stared out at the garden.
Ashleigh wanted to say something but knew this was not her turn to speak. Jake had been silent for most of his life; it was his turn to talk, to get what he could out of his system and he had chosen her to be witness to it.
He gave a deep sigh and she heard him rub his face with one hand, the slight raspy sound making her weak with her need to go to him in comfort. How she wanted to wrap her arms around him, to press soft healing kisses on all the spots on his body where his father had kicked, punched or brutalised him.
It was almost impossible for her to imagine someone wanting to harm their own child. She thought of Lachlan and how she would gladly give her life for his, had in fact given up so much for him already and not once complained. How could Jake’s father have been so heartless? What possible motive could he have had to inflict such unspeakable cruelty on a defenceless child?
Jake turned around to look at her, his expression bleak. ‘For most of my life I have done everything possible not to imitate my father. My life’s single goal has been to avoid turning into a clone of him.’
She drew in a shaky little breath, hardly able to believe she was finally witnessing the confession she had always longed to hear.
‘He remarried more often than he changed his shirts,’ he continued in the same flat tone. ‘I had a procession of stepmothers come in and out of my life, each of whom left as soon as they found out the sort of man my father was. I decided marriage was never going to be an option for me in case I ended up the same way, leaving a trail of emotional and physical destruction in my wake as my father did.’
‘He abused you…didn’t he?’ Her voice came out on a thin thread of sound.
Jake’s eyes shifted away from hers, his back turned towards her as he raised the ragged blind and stared out of the window.
‘Not sexually,’ he answered after what seemed another interminable pause.
Ashleigh felt her tense shoulders sag with instant relief.
‘But he did just about everything else.’
Her stomach clenched, her throat closing over. ‘Oh, Jake…’
He turned back to face her, his expression rueful. ‘Do you realise you are the first person I’ve ever told this to?’
‘I—I am?’
He gave her a sad smile. ‘Every single day we lived together I wanted to tell you, but I thought if I did you would run a mile in case I turned out just like him.’
‘You could never be like him, Jake…’
He turned back to the window, effectively shutting her out again.
‘I have to go away for a few days,’ he said into the silence, his voice sounding gut-wrenchingly empty.
After another little silence he turned around to look at her, the storm raging outside his backdrop. ‘I have some things to see to interstate and I won’t be back before the weekend.’
‘That’s OK,’ she said softly. ‘I can continue with the assessment on my own. There are quite a few things I’ll need to do some research on anyway in order to give you some idea of valuation.’
‘I don’t care what this stuff is worth; I just want it out of here,’ he said.
Ashleigh watched as he strode out of the room, his eyes avoiding hers as if he didn’t want her to see the residual pain reflected there.
She didn’t need to see it, she thought sadly, as the door clicked shut behind him.
She could feel it for him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘BUT I don’t want to go to crèche!’ Lachlan whined for the fifth time a few days later on the Friday morning.
Ashleigh’s patience was wearing thin. She hadn’t slept properly in days, unable to erase the images of Jake’s haunted past from her mind. Each day she’d spent in the old house seemed to make it worse, especially as he wasn’t coming back until Monday to break the long aching silences. She knew it was disloyal to Howard, but she missed seeing Jake, missed hearing him move about the house and garden. God help her, she even missed his snarls and scornful digs.
‘You have to go, Lachlan,’ she insisted, stuffing his lunch box in his backpack.
‘But I want to come wif you!’ His chin wobbled and his dark eyes moistened.