When Darkness Ends (Moments in Boston #3) - Marni Mann Page 0,26

through me, escaping whatever he had placed in my mouth, and something hard and relentless slapped my face. When it happened a second time, I realized it was his hand. Skin on skin. A movement that created even more agony.

My cheek felt like it had been lit on fire.

Right before another sob had the chance to form, he was gripping my face, his fingers like clamps, holding me as though I were corn on the cob, pressing so hard that my teeth ached.

“Never speak unless I give you permission. Understood?” When I went to make a sound, he pushed even harder on my cheeks. “Asking you a question is not permission. Nod your head, Kerry.”

He was even taking away my voice.

I didn’t know what I was agreeing to, but I didn’t want to get slapped again. I didn’t want to be hurt in any other way. I just wanted him to let me go, and maybe this was the first step to make that happen.

I nodded.

“I’m going to carry you out of this van, and if you make a sound, I’m going to knock out every single one of those pretty teeth. I won’t repeat myself. Nod your head if you understand.”

Why do his threats sound so permanent?

Where the hell is he carrying me to?

I was holding back the sobs, but they were ravaging the inside of my body.

And I was holding back the urge to fight because my feet could only get me so far, and I needed my eyes and hands to get past him.

I nodded.

“Now, it’s time to go to your new home.”

Nineteen

Before

Pearl

At the sound of the phone, I backed up from the stovetop, and without looking, I reached for the wall where it hung, holding the receiver to my ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Ashe.”

“Hi.” I twirled the long plastic cord between my fingers, keeping an eye on the pot to make sure Gran’s oatmeal didn’t bubble over.

“How’d you sleep?”

I brushed the center of my lips, the feel of him still there even though it had been hours since he’d dropped me off at the train station following my performance. “Pretty great, you?”

“I was up all night, finishing my paper.”

“Ashe—”

“I wouldn’t change a thing.” I could hear him smiling. “I know I told you this after your play, but, Pearl, you were incredible.”

His words caused my cheeks to turn hot, the same way they had when he handed me a bouquet of flowers outside the auditorium. When I’d gotten home, I’d cut the stems to make them fit in a glass and placed them on the counter. And when I had gone to bed, I could still see his grinning face in the audience as the lights onstage dimmed, no longer blinding me, as he stood, clapping, while I took my final bow.

No one had ever bought me flowers before. The bunch of blues and purples and pinks were some of the most beautiful I’d ever seen. I hadn’t known what to say when he gave them to me. I was still at a loss for words as I stared at them now.

“Thank you.” I quickly looked in on Gran and saw her reading on the couch. “And for the flowers too—again. They’re stunning. Ashe, I love them.”

“You’re welcome.” He paused, and I stretched the cord to the stovetop to give Gran’s breakfast a final stir. “I know things are crazy for you while you wrap up the play, but I want to see you. Tell me when you can make that happen.”

I poured the oatmeal into a bowl, the steam telling me it was too hot to give to Gran. “How about Sunday night?”

“Does that mean I can have you until Monday morning?”

The moments we’d spent in his bed had been replaying in my mind. How difficult it had been to keep my hands off him, how different he had felt compared to the other men I’d kissed. Even his lips were more intimate.

“Yes,” I answered, pushing myself into the corner of the counter.

“What about Gran?”

I turned, looking at her again through the cutout above the sink.

I’d left her before—she didn’t require around-the-clock care—but I had just worried the whole time I was gone. The thought of her falling in the middle of the night, the idea of her being lonely—my heart couldn’t handle either.

“I think she’ll be okay, but we’ll see.”

“I understand, Pearl, and I support whatever you need to do.”

That was something I liked the most about him—he really did understand, and he was always