Winner by Belle Brooks

Author:Belle Brooks [Brooks, Belle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Obie Books
Published: 2017-08-07T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Rose

Slade doesn’t say a word as we drive down the mountain and towards the beach. The stinging in my cheek is still giving me aftershocks. I’m terrified. I am.

He struck me.

The white caps of the waves help to bring me a short-lived calm when I look out the window, and my heart, which was thrumming dangerously fast in my chest, begins to slow its pace. He’s never hit me before. Pushed me, sure, but he hasn’t hit me.

The metal grey garage door opens, and as we enter I have the urge to run. I don’t. Instead, I remain frozen.

“Are you coming?” His clipped tone sends a trembling to my legs.

“Yes,” I breathe.

Taking the elevator to his beachfront condo has my stomach performing an aggressive acrobatics routine, one making me feel physically ill. This sensation intensifies when Slade takes my hand to his and raises my knuckles to his mouth before pressing it softly against his lips. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“I know.” It’s an automatic response. One I don’t give any thought.

“When we get inside, I’ll get you some ice.”

“Okay.” I shudder.

The keys rattle before Slade has the door unlocked, and he punches in the digits to the keypad to disable the alarm system. “Go and sit on the lounge.” A flash of a half-smile touches his lips, and my need to run away returns with vengeance.

There’s nothing to be smiling about.

“Lounge, Roselette.”

I jump. His anger is still present and accounted for. “Okay.”

Scanning the room, I become disheartened by the woman who smiles broadly on the printed canvas attached to the wall. Her eyes sparkle as brightly as the large diamond perched on my finger, yet there’s something about her appearance that echoes emptiness. I can see her naivety. I sense her loss of identity. And I’m distressed by the fact this woman on this canvas is me. My image on a large display in my fiancé’s condo. What happened to this girl who I once viewed as happy, alive, and free-spirited? When did she begin to lead a controlled existence?

Am I being controlled, though? Or is this just a mirage?

The ice is freezing against my cheekbone, and I suck air between my teeth as I’m returned to the here and now. I didn’t even hear Slade returning or handling the pack.

“I’m so sorry.” He runs his hand into my hair and kisses my forehead. “I’ll make it up to you.”

And with this, I’m shaking uncontrollably. I want to leave.

He wraps his arm around my head and pulls me to his chest before making himself comfortable in the two-bay ridged lounge. I don’t dare move and stay in the position he shifts me. I’m much too frightened to do anything.

The generic ringtone of my mobile phone chimes. It has me tipping my chin upwards to locate it—that is, until Slade instructs me to allow it to ring out, so I do.

It rings again.

“I will need to take this call, Slade. It could be my father.”

“Fine.”

Leaning forward, I retrieve my phone from the coffee table in front of us.

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