“I shouldn’t have come.”
“Baby.”
That was something else Fiona could do without. Prentice called Sally “baby” and Fiona had heard, a long time ago, him calling Bella that same endearment.
He’d never called her anything but “Fiona” or, when he was feeling affectionate, which she had to admit was often, he called her “Fee”.
She could do without hearing her husband’s deep brogue calling Bella “baby” in the same way he held her in bed that morning, like she was precious.
“I shouldn’t have come,” Bella repeated.
Then she turned on her hopelessly high heel and she gracefully ran.
Fiona always knew she could run gracefully in those heels.
Prentice didn’t hesitate, he went after her.
“Watch the children,” he ordered Debs when he passed his ashen sister.
Fiona sped behind them.
He caught her at her rental car.
Hands to her hips, he pulled her from the open door, slammed it, twirled her around, took a step into her and pinned her against the car.
“You didn’t leave me,” he declared, his voice hoarse.
She shook her head, those silent tears sliding down her cheeks.
“What did he do to you?”
She shook her head, refusing to answer.
Prentice’s hands went to either side of her neck and gave her a gentle squeeze.
“Did he hit you?”
She stared up at him, mutely crying.
Prentice dipped his face to hers and his voice got soft, “Baby, did he hit you?”
She bit her lip and her eyes slid away.
Prentice’s head came up.
“Christ!” he swore so viciously, Fiona was surprised the windows on the cars didn’t shatter.
Bella winced.
“He kept you from Annie, didn’t he? When she got hurt. Because she was here. He kept you from her to keep you from me.”
She closed her eyes slowly.
Then she opened them and nodded.
“I can’t f**king believe this,” Prentice growled.
Bella finally spoke, her voice timid and soft, a voice Fiona had never heard, a voice Prentice (by the looks of him) never heard.