Delaney's Shadow (26 page)

Read Delaney's Shadow Online

Authors: Ingrid Weaver

Tags: #mobi, #Romantic Suspense, #Paranormal Romance, #Fiction, #Shadow, #epub

BOOK: Delaney's Shadow
12.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
“I have a right to my feelings.”
“You know how much I love you.”
“You’re the one who slept with my friend, our
neighbor
. You can’t claim Elizabeth lied about that, because Jenna just confirmed it.”
A muscle in his cheek jumped as he glanced at the phone beside the bed. “I wish you hadn’t called her. It’s going to make the situation awkward.”
“I’m
the one making things awkward? You play golf with her husband. I had invited the Chamberlains to dinner this weekend. You were willing to make a fool out of me.”
“The affair meant nothing. I’ve been trying to break it off because she couldn’t possibly compare to you. You’re everything to me; you know that.”
“Elizabeth said there were others. How many have there been, Stanford?”
He turned up his palms. It wasn’t a gesture of supplication; it was closer to dismissal. “Don’t condemn me for having needs, Delaney.”
“Don’t our marriage vows mean anything to you?”
“It’s you who should be reminded of our vows. I don’t ask much from you, only your love. I didn’t want to turn to someone else, but you gave me no choice. I’m only human. You’ve been too involved in your own activities to see how lost I’ve felt without you.”
“How dare you blame your infidelity on me?”
“Everything you do affects me; you know that. Right now you’re distraught and you’re overreacting. I know in my heart that you don’t mean to hurt me like this. Give me the chance to make this right.”
She almost wavered. The urge to apologize, to smooth things over, to look the other way, rose to tangle with her anger. It was what she’d done for five years. Just one more concession, one more piece of herself, a fair trade for the love she longed for, wasn’t it?
Yet the pieces she had given him added up. The balance she’d tried so desperately to shore up had finally tipped. This argument was about far more than an affair, and tonight, the anger was going to win. She dragged the suitcase off the bench and strode from the bedroom.
He followed her down the staircase. “After all I’ve done for you, everything I’ve given you, is this how you repay my love? I was there for you during the worst time of your life, Delaney. Are you so cold that you can turn your back on me when I need you the most?”
His barbs were well-placed. Every word he spoke sank its hooks into her emotions. He was good at that. She increased her pace before her resolve could weaken. Her boot heels echoed on the marble floor as she crossed to the front door. Why had she never realized how empty the sound was? She picked up the purse she’d left on the foyer table.
Stanford took it from her grasp. “This has gone far enough. You’re obviously not yourself tonight. For your own good, I can’t let you leave.”
She held out her hand. “I need my keys.”
“You’re in no state to drive.”
“You have no right to stop me.”
“If you were thinking clearly, darling, you would realize that I do have the right. They’re not your keys; they’re mine. The car that I permit you to use is registered in my name. And if you’re contemplating using the spare key, think again. I’ll report the car stolen rather than allow you to leave in this condition.”
“Fine. I’ll call a taxi.”
“And how will you pay the fare? With my cash? With the credit cards I pay for?” He tossed her purse to the floor behind him and grabbed her suitcase. “I won’t permit you to take this, either. I signed the bills for those clothes you packed as well as the ones you’re wearing.”
She backed away. “You can’t force me to stay.”
“Wrong again. I own everything in this house, including you.” He caught her arm to stop her from retreating. “You’re mine, Delaney. I’ll never let you go.”
SEVENTEEN
 
 
THE LAMP DIMMED. MAX FELT HIS SENSES RETURNING TO the darkness of his own bedroom and struggled to maintain the connection with Deedee. Something was very wrong. She was trembling, and it clearly wasn’t from desire.
She pushed away from the dresser and moved past him. Through him. He had no more substance than what she gave him, and her thoughts were someplace else. “Deedee?”
She stood at the foot of the bed and steepled her fingertips on the suitcase. “I remember.”
The words were as faint as her image. He strove to hang on to both. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I was leaving him. That’s where I was going the night . . .” She swallowed. “The night of the accident. I was trying to get away.”
He grasped her emotions first. Hurt. Fear. Helplessness. They tapped his own buried memories even before he processed her words. “You were leaving your husband?”
She turned. Tears glistened on her cheeks. “We had a fight.”
Rage flooded his mind, giving him the power to strengthen his presence. He thought of blood and hidden bruises. God, no. Not Deedee. That particular form of evil couldn’t have touched her, could it? He clenched his fists. “Did he hit you?”
“Hit . . .” She shook her head quickly. “No. He tried to stop me, that’s all.”
The room steadied. Max crossed the floor. “What happened?”
“He took my keys and my money. He grabbed my suitcase. I ran.” Her eyes widened. “That’s why I was driving his Jaguar. It was still in front of the house. The keys were in the ignition. I remember sliding behind the wheel and starting it up.”
“You must have had a good reason to leave.”
“He was cheating on me.”
“The man was an idiot.”
“He said it was my fault. I neglected him.” She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. “He turned it all around and tried to make
me
feel guilty.”
“So you left.”
“The car skidded when I braked to buzz open the gates. I was driving too fast, but I just wanted to get away before he could change my mind, before the hurt wore off.” Her words tumbled over one another, as if a dam had opened. “It was the last straw. I was always the one who gave in. I made allowances, I smoothed things over. He was an expert at pushing my buttons.”
“He must have been. You stayed with him for five years.”
“I was a fool. I still am. I’ve been denying the truth because it was ugly. I’ve been blocking this entire memory because it didn’t fit with the way I wanted to see my marriage.” She closed the suitcase and smacked her palms against the lid, then sank to her knees on the floor. “I’m good at blocking memories I don’t want. I’ve done it all my life. It’s how I cope. I should have listened to you. You saw what I didn’t.”
“Don’t give me too much credit. I don’t believe in marriage. Not just yours, anyone’s.”
“My cynical subconscious. Why couldn’t you have come back to me five years ago?”
“Deedee—”
“Why didn’t you warn me what would happen? Tell me what an idiot I was being back then?”
“Knowing you, you would have been too stubborn to listen to me anyway.”
“You’re right. I wanted to believe he loved me and we were happy. I ignored anything that didn’t fit. I brainwashed myself into making excuses.” She turned, placing her back against the footboard as she drew her knees to her chest. A tear trickled into her mouth. She licked it away. “I even made excuses about our sex life. I assumed it was because of his age and the stress of his career when all along there was a much simpler explanation. He had no energy or desire left for me because he was spreading it around with everyone else. That was another one of those answers that had been staring me in the face.”
Max knelt on the floor beside her. “It’s over, Deedee. Don’t cry.”
“It hurts. I did love him.”
“You believed you did.”
“I wanted to love him.”
“Why?”
“Because I was afraid of being alone. You were right about that, too. I stayed with him because I wanted to be loved. And he’d been so kind and thoughtful and sweet throughout the funeral—”
“Whose funeral?”
“My father’s. He died of a heart attack. It was sudden. I was devastated, but Stanford was like a rock. He was good to me. I had been feeling so lost and then so happy when he proposed, it was like a . . .” She laughed without humor. “A fairy-tale ending.”
“He took advantage of you.”
“No, I went to him willingly.”
“And you’re still making excuses.”
“Maybe I am.”
“I’m glad you decided to leave him.”
“I was coming here to Willowbank, to my grandmother. That’s why I was on the highway. I hadn’t cared if I had to drive all night. It was my first impulse because this is the place I always felt safe.”
“It’s your home.”
“It must be the reason I came here after I was discharged from the clinic. Even without remembering why, I knew I didn’t want to return to Bedford.” She stopped suddenly. “Max, I was leaving him, I wanted to get away, so how did he end up in the car?”
“You don’t remember that?”
“No. The last thing I remember is going through the gates and driving past our neighbor’s house and wondering how I could have been so blind to what she was doing with my husband. I couldn’t have changed my mind and gone back to talk to him, could I?”
“It doesn’t matter now.”
“Yes, it does. I need to know it all. I won’t be free until I do.”
“You’ve got it wrong, Deedee. It’s forgetting that gives you freedom.” He glanced at the bed. It still held the suitcase. He couldn’t physically remove it, so he would have to take her someplace else. He pushed at her consciousness, painting a picture of a birch grove. Pale trunks gleamed through mist tinted gold by sunrise. He used the sound of the rain outside her window, turning it into the drip of moisture from the sheltering boughs. Peace. Serenity. He stepped into it first, then held out his hand. “Come with me. Nothing will hurt you here.”
There was no hesitation, she needed no coaxing. Her thoughts latched onto the image immediately, strengthening what he’d created and adding details that were entirely hers. The ground beneath the trees sprouted tiny blue flowers. Birds twittered in the mist. Her fingers were firm and warm as she laced them with his and stepped to his side.
He used their joined hands to wipe away her tears. “I hate seeing you cry.”
She rubbed her cheek against his knuckles. “Kiss me, Max.”
The bald request surprised him. That was why he’d decided to seek her out tonight. He’d planned to enjoy the pleasure of their mental connection. It was all he wanted from their relationship. He’d had no intention of getting involved in the other aspects of her life, yet he’d created this birch grove with the idea of giving comfort, not pleasure.
She lifted her face. Tears brimmed in her eyes. “Max, please.”
But what did he know about giving comfort? He leaned closer to bring his lips to hers.
Their minds touched, twined, and meshed. Her passion didn’t stir.
She clutched his shoulders, molding her breasts against his chest. “Again.”
Max nuzzled the skin beneath her ear. This time, a tendril of heat curled between them. He focused on it, nurturing it, letting it build.
“That’s it.” She arched her back to fit their bodies together. “Help me.”
“There’s no rush.”
“Do what you talked about before. Come into my mind. Join our thoughts.”
“Our thoughts are already joined. That’s why you can feel me.”
She tunneled her fingers into his hair. “Yes, I feel you, but not deep enough. Not hard enough.”
It was the same for him. The pleasure he should have been getting from imagining her touch was too thin, as if it was diluted. Too much of her mind remained apart. He kissed her nose. “Take off your robe.”

Other books

Mosquito by Alex Lemon
Magnolia Dawn by Erica Spindler
The Rich Are with You Always by Malcolm Macdonald
Alpha 1472 by Eddie Hastings
Advent (Advent Mage Cycle) by Raconteur, Honor
Red Lines by T.A. Foster
Murders Most Foul by Alanna Knight
The Courteous Cad by Catherine Palmer