Read The Virgin: Redemption for Free Online

mother. You’ll never be free—
    He swung out with a tire iron, the same one he’d used to smash into my father’s stomach the very first day they’d grabbed us. And I watched as he smashed it into Drake’s head.
    Blood exploded, so much blood. It flowed and flowed until it flooded the entire room.
     
    I woke up screaming.
    Screaming and trapped in Drake’s arms.
    Even though his scent cued me in as to who was holding me, panic flooded my body and I swung out.
    My elbow caught his throat and I heard the choked noise, dimly, as I scrambled free.
    Crouched on the floor, in the middle of the room, light hurting my eyes, my befuddled, confused brain struggling to catch up, I sat there and stared.
    Drake, red-faced, struggling to breathe, sat on the edge of the bed and stared right back.
    Shame slammed into me. Shame for the weakness, shame for having him see me like this.
    I jerked my gaze away from him and rose, my legs shaky, my head pounding. “I’m sorry,” I said, forcing the words out.
    He was silent. Unable to just stand there, I moved into the bathroom and turned on the water, splashing the icy wet across my face, gasping at the shock of it, welcoming it as it cleared some of the cobwebs from my mind.
    There was no sound, but I knew when he came up to stand behind me.
    Slowly, I straightened and met his gaze in the mirror. The redness had faded from his face. His voice was a little hoarse as he asked, “How often does this happen?”
    “What?” I asked flippantly. “Me elbowing somebody in the throat? Not very.”
    His mouth flattened out. “The nightmares, Shan.”
    I took my time reaching for a towel and drying my face, formulating half a dozen answers before finally settling on the truth. With a sigh, I turned and faced him, leaning on the edge of the counter. “Now? Not very. A few times a year, I’ll have a really bad one. This time of the year is the worst. The rest of the time, it’s just echoes. Sometimes, I’ll sleep walk, move around a little and try to hide. Other times, it’s just restless sleep. That…” I paused and blew out a breath. “That was a bad one. They used to all be bad ones. I couldn’t sleep without taking a sleeping pill. Sometimes, it helped.”
    I shrugged and looked down at the hand towel I still held, twisting it around in my hands. “But other times, the nightmares would still find me. I couldn’t wake up. So I’d be stuck.”
    He crossed the distance between us, just a few small steps. One hand lifted, came up to cup my cheek. I held still, barely able to breathe as his eyes searched mine.
    “I’ve spent the past two months trying to understand why you ran.” His hand slid down, curved around my neck and then he lowered his head, pressed his brow to mine. His lids drooped lower, shielding his eyes, although I could still see a thin rim of green. “And before that, I came here, every summer, waited on that fucking balcony every night for three weeks, just waiting for you. I thought, she’ll be here. One day, she’ll be here. She can’t stay away from a place she loves like this . But you never came back, not that I could see. Now I know why.”
    His hand fell away and he straightened, turning away.
    “Why did you really come to Gallagher Enterprises, Shan?” he asked softly. “You have every reason in the world to hate me. Every reason to avoid me. Running, I can understand, but why show up in the first place?”
    As he pivoted back around to study me, I ducked my head, staring at my bare feet. Curling my toes into the plush, warm rug that spread out over much of the tiled floor, I debated on that answer. I could lie. I knew how to do it, how to look at a person and lie without blinking, without flinching. When you spent years trapped in a pit of depression that seemed unending, lying became almost second nature.
    How are you, Shannon?
    I’d smile and nod. I’m getting by. Every day seems to get a little easier .
    Are you holding up?
    A shrug, a shake