How West Was Won (Haven, Texas 7)

And did he just say please?

11

“It’s all your fault,” he raged, he face purple with anger. She cringed from him, knowing what was coming next.

“Please,” she whimpered. “Please, don’t.”

Her begging only seemed to fuel his cruelty. “All your fault.”

His fist rose and slammed against her cheekbone. Agony engulfed her face.

She screamed.

Flick sat up with a gasp, groaning as her shoulder protested the movement. Sweat coated her skin, and her breath came in rough, shallow pants. Nausea bubbled. She climbed out of bed, moving as fast as she could to the attached bathroom. She just made it to the toilet as the contents of her stomach came up.

Not that there was much to throw up. She stopped heaving and, exhausted, slumped down on her good side on the cool bathroom floor. The sweat on her skin dried, leaving her feeling chilled. Shivers rocked her body.

She needed to get up. Take a shower, get into a clean nightie, and go back to bed and pretend to sleep for the rest of the night.

But she knew she wouldn’t.

You would if West were here.

Because West would have soothed her back to sleep. But West was avoiding her. Sort of. She’d caught him watching her several times when he thought she wasn’t looking.

Every morning, he’d set up a glass of water on the kitchen counter beside her pain pills with a note telling her to take them and eat some breakfast. And Mia had told her he always checked in with her to see how Flick was doing.

But he acting so unlike himself. He was being gentle, so careful with her. But it wasn’t the sort of gentle and careful you might be with someone you cared about, who you wanted to look after. It wasn’t the same gentle as before.

It was the sort of careful and gentle you’d be with someone who was a friend of the family. Someone you felt obligated to help but couldn’t wait for the day they were no longer your problem.

He was distant. He was polite. He was not West.

She’d give anything to have him boss her around. Tears threatened and she took a deep breath. She didn’t want to cry. She had to be stronger than that.

But West’s distance hurt her. Even more than the night he’d said all those horrible things to her. Because, at least then, he’d been real. Honest. At least then, she’d known what he was thinking.

Now she had no clue. She knew he regretted the kiss. That much was clear. She just wasn’t sure if he regretted it because he thought he’d hurt her, or because she wasn’t Lana.

A tear leaked free, and she made herself sit up. She had to pull herself together. Mia had started giving her concerned looks, and Alec was watching her much more closely. She was already a burden to them; they didn’t need to worry about her state of mind too.

They were all on edge, waiting to see what Spencer would do. Nobody was letting their guard down, despite the fact they’d heard nothing from him. She was still restricted to the house, only allowed outside when one of the Malone boys could take her. And then, they were armed and watchful.

Yep, she needed to concentrate on getting better and figuring out what the hell she was going to do with her life. She knew Spencer would come for her. She also knew she couldn’t stay there forever, hiding.

Time to make some plans.

“Morning, darlin’,” Beau drawled as she walked into the kitchen. He was leaning against the counter, facing her, sipping a cup of coffee. It should be illegal for someone to look that good while doing something so ordinary. “Looking beautiful as always.”

She rolled her eyes at his greeting. Beau would flirt with the Queen of England.

“I look like crap.” And she did. The bruising had faded a lot on her face, but it was now a puke green color. She’d thought about covering it up with makeup but she didn’t own any and she wouldn’t much know how to apply it if she did. Then there was her lack of sleep and appetite. Her hair was lifeless and dull, her skin sallow, and even she could see she looked borderline gaunt.

Even before all that had happened, she wouldn’t have called herself beautiful. More like passable. So, she knew he was talking shit.

“You look beautiful,” Beau said in a strangely firm voice. It wasn’t a tone she’d heard from him before, and she stopped short to stare at him. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”