After Always by Barbara J. Hancock

Author:Barbara J. Hancock
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Entangled, Teen, YA, ya romance, romance, teen romance, Gothic, thriller, contemporary, ghost, multi-cultural, paranormal, boy next door, coming of age, overcoming odds
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 2018-09-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

“And more inconstant than the wind.”

(Romeo and Juliet, Act 1, Scene 4)

All summer my hair had been blown by the ocean breeze or caught back in a messy tail. Hannah’s sleek hair inspired me to condition and iron my own. I have my father’s hair. My mother says to thank my Chinese heritage because her hair is thin and mousy.

The formal dress I’d brought at Mrs. Brighton’s urging was hanging in the closet. Tristan hadn’t liked this particular dress, but it was one of the few things I hadn’t allowed him to influence. I’d bought it anyway. The first time I’d tried it on, the iridescent gray fabric had made my black hair gleam and my skin glow. The bodice was loose but silken so it allowed me movement to play while still seeming feminine not frumpy. When I wasn’t playing, the fabric showed my slight curves without showing my every breath. The narrow draped shoulders were perfect for summer. The long skirt flowed around my legs with clinging softness.

When I took it down and slipped it over my head, it was as elegant and simple as I remembered. Much more my style than the bright colors Tristan preferred as if he were an artist and he wanted me to wear his palette.

I hadn’t worn the dress for the recital I’d purchased it for.

Tristan had held me down. I recalled the force of his muscular body over mine. He’d crushed my chest, pinning me to the floor until I could barely breathe. The memory was so vivid my chest tightened. My breath came hoarse between my lips. At first, I’d been too shocked to cry out. He’d wrapped his long callused fingers around the soft pale flesh of my arm, and he had tightened and tightened until he had squeezed, mercilessly.

I did cry out, then. But my parents weren’t home. I’d begged for him to please, please stop.

I had forgotten that night. I’d blocked it from my mind. But Jericho’s hands on Octavia’s shoulders had been so tight. Too tight. That’s what had bothered me. The reminder.

He deserted you the first time he hurt you, Hannah had said. Goose bumps rose along the back of my neck. Was Hannah Shreve actually psychic?

He hadn’t spoken. He had only continued to press the full force of his fingers into my skin. Angry, dark bruises in the shape of his hands had ringed my forearms the next day. He hadn’t stopped with one. He’d taken his time while I’d cried on first one side and then the other.

That’s what had terrified me in the end. The time he took. His calculated care to mark me well, even though I eventually screamed. The “accident” with the laptop had made me feel squeezed too hard and too tight because the expression on his face had been the same as when he’d hurt my arms. He hadn’t wanted me to play games with friends or have any connections with others while he was away.

It had taken weeks for the bruises to fade.

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