She took it. “Robert Langston spent seven years in prison for the attempted murder of my mother…and of me.”
Chapter 9
Luca sat beside her on the plush sofa, tucking one leg beneath him so that he was sitting sideways, facing her. His warm hand enclosed hers and she clung to it, a link that kept her from feeling groundless and out of control. Now that she said the words, they sounded surreal. Like it couldn’t have possibly happened. But it had, and she squeezed his hand in response.
She didn’t talk about that day. Not ever. But perhaps now she needed to. This afternoon had taught her that it wasn’t behind her as she’d thought it was. And the scary truth was Robert was out of prison and knowing it had chipped away at her safety net more than she cared to admit. Being with Luca was the only thing holding her together right now.
She looked up at him. His dark eyes were steady on hers, waiting for her to begin, giving her the time she needed. There was such a strength about him, even now when he was being gentle and nurturing. Luca was a man to be relied upon, so much more than the Fiori heir who liked fast cars and beautiful women. That wasn’t the real Luca.
The real Luca was sitting before her now, a safe port in the storm, willing to be whatever she needed.
She stared at the sensuous curve of his lips, feeling a little wonder that a man like him had kissed a woman like her, and on more than one occasion. Things like that didn’t happen. Real life wasn’t like that.
They certainly didn’t happen to a plain Jane from Ontario. Not one who was mediocre at best. But here he was, waiting. Not running. Not arguing. He was caring for her, and knowing it unlocked something she kept hidden deep inside. For the first time in her life, she wanted to give of herself to another human being.
“Mariella, you don’t have to tell me if it’s too difficult. It’s okay.”
She was brought back by the warm sound of his voice. She lifted their joined hands and kissed the top of his, holding it against her lips. She closed her eyes, grateful he was there. Even now he was being understanding and her appreciation ran long and deep. When she was with him, Robert somehow lost his power.
“When I was six, my mother married Robert Langston.” She focused on Luca’s face to keep the images away. “I never knew my real father. She’d brought me up on her own all that time and she said that things would get better, we’d have a new family. Only it didn’t turn out that way.”
“It wasn’t the fairy tale you expected.”
She nodded. “The abuse didn’t happen right at the beginning, but that doesn’t matter now. What is important is that when it did start it escalated quickly and completely, and we were essentially terrorized. He had complete control. He ruled us with fear, and it was awful. The years were—”
But she couldn’t go on. Her throat closed over as memories flooded back. Cowering in a corner while he yelled at her mother. The rage on his face as he used his fists on her. Mari had foolishly spent too many evenings trying to defend her mother, only to receive the same treatment.
The years of long-sleeved shirts and make-up. Being scared to speak up and feeling guilty listening to the sound of punches on the other side of the wall, too paralyzed to do anything. Of tiptoeing around, always afraid of saying the wrong thing or doing something not quite the right way.
Years of waiting for her mother to tell her it was over, but that moment never came. She’d remained trapped in the living hell of her childhood.
For the first time, Mari forgot all the police reports, all the therapy, all the ways she’d been told she’d made progress, and she simply cried—quiet, cold, devastating tears.
Luca pulled her into his arms and held her…warm, solid, sure. She cried for the childhood she’d lost, the guilt she still felt, the fear that never quite went away, and the fact that today of all days it had finally reached the point where she could grieve for it all.
Luca had made that possible. By some miracle, he’d pushed himself into her life and had shown her what was real.
After several minutes she slid backwards on the couch, wiping her eyes. Luca went to the bathroom and brought back a box of tissues, offering her two and waiting patiently.
“I’m sorry for crying all over you that way.”
“Please don’t apologize.” He sat on the edge of the coffee table, facing her. “I just want to make sure you’re all right.”
At that moment the telephone rang, and Luca scowled. “Answer it,” Mari said, but Luca shook his head.
“It can wait.”
The ringing persisted and he sighed, rising to answer. Mari watched him from her position on the couch. She was tired, so tired. Only once before had she been this drained, and it was the day she’d had to testify in court.
“It will have to wait.”
Mari heard Luca speaking into the telephone. His eyes remained fixed on her and she tried tucking the hair that had come loose back behind her ears. She must look a fright. His voice came again. “I’m sorry, but I’m in the middle of something more important right now. You’ll have to take care of it. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
He hung up the phone and came back, sitting on the table again and taking her hands in his. “I’m sorry about that.”
She was still trying to absorb the fact that he’d put off whoever it was to look after her. “If you need to go, it’s fine. I’ll be okay.”
“You’re not okay. And it can wait. Right now, looking after you is my priority.”