Yeah, she should have known better.
Happy and Libby just didn’t go hand in hand.
Chapter 13
Libby woke to a room shrouded in shadows and a house that was eerily silent. She yawned and stretched tight limbs, groaning softly as aching muscles protested. She was sore, no doubt about it, certain parts of her anatomy more so than others. And once more she felt the stain of heat on her cheeks as images of the reason for it danced before her eyes.
There was a heaviness blanketing her limbs, and it seeped deep into her soul as memories of her lovemaking with Jaxon filtered through the fog. He had been amazing. Her body began to tingle at just the thought of his hands on her flesh, and she sighed softly, wanting to go back six hours, needing him there with her.
But Jaxon had made it very clear she was a mistake he didn’t plan on repeating. The ache that sat near her heart blossomed sharply, and she wanted nothing more then to bury herself deep in the covers and wallow in self-pity.
And that’s exactly what she did. For about two minutes.
But as she lay there, Libby began to realize that she wasn’t a weak, broken person anymore. Sure, she’d been through more than most people would ever face in a lifetime, but she was alive. And she felt there was a purpose for her, yet unfulfilled. Even if it was only to find her way back to what she had been before.
Before she could do that, she needed to pull up her big girl pants and deal with the mess her life had become. A tremulous smile played along the edges of her mouth. Yeah, it was time to say a big fuck you to the demons from her past and move on. She flung her body from the bed, pausing for a moment as she caught sight of her nakedness in the mirror above the dresser to her left.
She flinched at the sight of the scars on her back and was pummeled with a deluge of disgust and anxiety. That someone could do this to her and she had no clue who or why was something she’d struggled with since she first discovered the marred flesh back in Winterhaven.
Her cheeks burned and her hands went to them, the coolness of her fingers against the heated flesh bringing a modicum of relief. She winced, wanting to turn away from the hideous sight, but not before the violet eyes that stared back at her grabbed her attention fully.
Slowly, Libby walked toward the mirror. Huge dark eyes widened as she wondered at the changes that had transpired in her appearance in only a few days.
Her cheeks were flushed, lips bruised and full. Her hair was a chaotic mess about her shoulders. The long blond strands seemed to glisten with a new energy that shimmered in the waning sunlight, haloing her head in a wash of gold.
Her eyes were arresting, no longer dull and beaten down. They held a sparkle. Somewhere deep, a tiny sprinkling of stardust glittered from within, and left them shiny with a new vibrant energy that brought a tremulous smile to her generous lips.
She smiled broadly, her reflection showing a face from the past, and it was one she wanted to grab hold of and never let go.
Surely it was the face that Jaxon knew. But was it one he had loved?
Her hands fell from her face and she scooped up the T-shirt from the floor and padded over to where the rest of her clothes lay. Shaking her head, she sighed as a whisper floated through her mind.
Careful what you wish for.
And she knew that was the crux of the matter. She needed to remember before she could move on. But if the memories were as bad as she suspected, maybe they were better left buried, deep in her past.
She opened the door, peered out into the empty hall, and when she was satisfied that Jaxon wasn’t in the immediate area, scooted through and down to the bathroom, where she got dressed.
Her belly led the way toward the kitchen, and she was relieved to discover she was alone. She would have to face Jaxon sooner or later, but right now later sounded so much better.
She raided the cupboards, even though the thought of dining on crackers again held little appeal. But it was nice to feel hungry. Days ago her appetite had been nearly nonexistent. Pete had tried every way imaginable to tempt her to eat, and it was a daily struggle on his part. But truthfully, why eat when you had no desire to live?
He would be happy to see her raking through cupboards in search of sustenance, she thought. Opening the fridge, her face contorted at the sight of two large plastic bags, which she now knew contained blood. Her eyes latched onto a small piece of steak that had been carefully wrapped, along with a baked potato and veggies. Her name was printed neatly on a piece of paper and taped to the items.
It brought a smile to her face, and she found herself humming a tune as she grabbed the food and threw it in the microwave. While her meal circled inside for a couple minutes, Libby twirled the paper around, looking a
t the writing, wondering who had been nice enough to think of her needs.
Jaxon? She shook her head.
It’s much too neat to be Jaxon’s.
The thought came from nowhere, and she froze, her mind clicking as it leapt forward in a blur. She could see something just beyond the veil of her past.
She clearly envisioned papers, typed memos with scrawls highlighting segments, scrawls that belonged to Jaxon. She knew this!
Desperately, she closed her eyes, trying to remember. Bits and pieces flew by, and she knew the price for this window into her past would not be pleasant. Even now, as she struggled to regain a sense of time, her head felt as if it were cracking apart. Flashes, spikes of lightning, flew around inside her skull, and as her stomach heaved, she grabbed the counter for support.