stare bounced back and forth between them, and after a beat, Brad nodded. “Okay, I’ll say good night to the girls and pack up my stuff.”
“All right then. I’ll see you tomorrow night for dinner.” Mason patted my back, and Brad saluted me as he strolled to the foyer.
My hands fell to the edge of the sink, and I let my head hang. Patty gone would be an adjustment, but it’d be fine, right?
It had to be.
Chapter 10
Becky
Darkness surrounds me, and the rush of pressure in my ears is so overwhelming that I think my eardrums will burst.
My heart pounds, louder, faster, harder. I hear the thumps of my chest in my ears.
But what is overwhelming is the pressure. The intense pressure above me. Below me. All around me.
The worst is … I couldn’t breathe.
Could not get air into my lungs.
Could. Not. Breathe.
I lose focus.
Everything blacks out around me.
And I am floating into space, but this space feels warm and, for the first time, safe, so I welcome this space in the blackness because in the dark, in this area, there is no pain.
I let it take me. Take me under. And I know the moment the air from my lungs slowly leaves my body until I have no more air to breathe.
But then … I am jolted back to reality, struck by an impact, an unbearable pain that reminds me that this hell is my life.
Suddenly, I jerked upright on my bed, sweating profusely, breathing heavily.
My hands flew to my chest, hugging myself, keeping myself together. I took in my surroundings—the pale yellow walls, the neutral curtains—and I exhaled deeply, one big sigh of relief. This was my new room, my new employment. This wasn’t the hell I used to live in.
I inhaled deeply, taking breaths in big, overwhelming gulps.
I’m alive.
Please. I hope I didn’t scream this time.
I pushed the covers off of me, slipped on my slippers, and headed downstairs, needing a drink of water.
I hadn’t been in the Brisken household long, but I had already memorized my surroundings. That was how I’d trained myself—to know where I was at all times and to know where the exits were.
I lightly walked through the foyer, down the hall, and into the kitchen. The floors creaked with age, but I was light on my toes.
I flipped on the light to get a glass in the cupboard and opened the fridge to get some water. My eyes caught a shadow in my peripheral view. And then I screamed.
The glass dropped to the floor and shattered.
Charles was up from the chair at the kitchen table and next to me in a nanosecond, bending down to pick up the big pieces of glass.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Charles said.
After catching my breath, I met his eyes. “I didn’t expect you there.” Of course not. He’d been sitting in the dark.
He laughed. “I’m sorry.” Then, he answered my question with a nod of his chin. He picked up a another piece of glass and threw it in the trash. “Don’t move. I’ll get the broom.”
I stood, feeling a sharp pinch on my big toe. “Mother-pluckers.” I hopped on one foot, realizing I had stepped on a shard of glass.
“I said, stay still.” Charles’s voice boomed.
I flinched, cowering into myself. I hated that it was an automatic reaction, that my body had been taught through the years to fear a man like that. He stilled, his eyes widening just a tad. When I tore my gaze from him, he walked toward the closet.
He came back in with a broom, sweeping all the tiny pieces of glass away. I bent my leg and pulled out the piece of glass from my toe, and tiny droplets of blood rushed to the surface.
“Do you have a Band-Aid?” I asked, applying pressure to my big toe.
A moment later, I yelped because steady arms went under my knees, and I was off the floor. My arms wrapped around his neck, and I felt his strong shoulders pressed against my body. I swallowed. This man must live at the gym. My pulse picked up in speed at the nearness of him.
He placed me on top of the kitchen table and averted his eyes. “I didn’t want you stepping on any more glass. I’ll need to clean up that area later.” He walked toward a set of drawers by the coffee machine and pulled out a first aid kit. After placing it on the table, he opened an alcohol wipe, sat