Love Resisted (Entwined Hearts #2) Read online

  So when I spoke to Saul last night I was trying to give myself a few days to prepare, but then he shocked me with his text message all demanding and sexy as hell. Yeah, he can be sexy just by texting me. Fuck, but there must be something wrong with me.

  Now I’m flapping not knowing exactly what I need to say to him or how things are going to go.

  It’s nearly 10 o’clock and he’ll be here soon.

  “Chill out, Tink,” I hear from the left as Dane is walking down the stairs. Low slung pyjama bottoms, muscular arms and sculpted chest. His eyes are sleepy and he has a sweet grin on his face. His hair is still ruffled from sleep.

  Some woman is going to be a lucky bitch one day.

  “Shhh, you!” I snap back which just makes him chuckle and walk off toward the kitchen. The doorbell rings and I jump but can’t move. I hear chuckling again as Dane walks past me and opens the door.

  “Fuck, can’t you put a top on?” I hear Saul growl and then Dane full out laughs and answers with, “Dick.” He opens the door wider and walks back to the kitchen with a knowing smirk, but not before walking past me and leaning in low to whisper in my ear, “Be brave, Tink.”

  I smile at Saul and his eyes light with something, but I’m not sure what. “Come on babe, let’s go,” he says holding out his hand. I grasp it and walk with him, but I fidget. I’ve never held his hand before, not in an intimate way. Maybe when we were kids and he was pulling me out of trouble, or when we were adults and he was again pulling me out of trouble, but never just because.

  Fuck, is this a date?

  The thought hadn’t occurred to me before now. Shaking my head slightly, dismissing the idea. Still fidgeting, it’s like the walk from the house to his car is a mile instead of about ten feet.

  “What’s up? Why are you fidgeting?” Saul asks cutting off my overactive brain.

  “Oh, ugh…well, it’s just…that you’ve never held my hand before.”

  He stops and looks at me then down at our joined hands, then he smirks and winks. “Get in the car, Soph,” he says opening the door, and I do so even more confused.

  Ten minutes into our journey and Saul hasn’t said anything, and I’m even more fidgety than ever.

  “Where are we going?” I ask breaking the silence.

  He looks over at me with warmth in his eyes. “You’ll see,” he says and looks back to the road.

  Another ten minutes and we turn down a street I recognise and catch my breath trying not to let tears form in my eyes. Saul must sense it as he places his hand on my knee and rubs his thumb up and down gently.

  When he stops the car, I have myself under control. Almost. He doesn’t get out. Instead, he turns to me and says, “When we were younger your dad used to bring you here about three times a week, right?” I nod to answer and he continues, “I know how much you loved to dance and even though I was a kid I could see how much your dad loved you. When he died your mother stopped you coming, right?” Nodding again, he clenches his jaw. “That bitch shouldn’t have been allowed to keep you,” he says and I look down at my fisted hands, my nails biting into the palms.

  He has no idea.

  “Anyway, I know how much you’ve always loved to dance. I know you tried to do what you could in your bedroom, but I also know what a special place this dance studio is to you. I don’t know why you haven’t come back, I can only guess it’s because your dad still lives in your memories here, and you would find it hard to come on your own?”

  This time my head jerks at his question. Not because it’s wrong, but because it’s smack on the money.

  How the fuck he knows that I have no idea.

  “How do you know that?” I whisper my question.

  He cups my face and runs his thumb down my cheek. “Because I know you, Soph.” He must see a million questions blaze in my eyes because he smiles and lays himself bare. “You know what my mother was like?” He doesn’t wait for my nod, it’s not really a question he’s asking as he knows the answer. “We both had to grow up quickly, neither of us really being allowed to have a childhood. I don’t know everything that happened to you and likewise you don’t know what has happened to me, but we have time to find out. We have time to talk, to laugh, to cry, to heal. We have time to love, Soph.”

  My eyes widen and find his.

  He gazes softly at me. “I’ve never thought I was good enough for you.”

  I feel my eyebrows pull in and my lips narrow at his ridiculous assumption.

  “I’ve been your friend, determined to make sure you’re always okay. To make sure you always have us, Con, Pea and me. I was never willing to try to make anything more. Sometimes I sit and wonder why I was such a fuckwit? Why I wasted so much time? You know before the accident, Kate told me she thought she was pregnant.”

  I feel my body jolt and my heart constricts. I remember Kate. I haven’t seen her for ages. Fuck! I hope she wasn’t pregnant.

  “She wasn’t,” he says almost reading my thoughts. “Then Con and Pea got pregnant, it just makes you think.” He looks forward out of the window and so do I. It’s started raining and the sky is growing dark. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about things while I was in the hospital, but it took a chat with someone unexpected to wake me the fuck up.”

  Dane.

  He turns to me, his eyes haunted. “I never wanted to taint you, do you get that?” I look down at my clenched hands again knowing it would be me tainting him, but also knowing I’m too selfish to say no to almost anything he proposes. “Then I couldn’t bear the idea of you being with someone else. It’s like a switch inside me flipped when I was in that hospital, and everything I suppressed for so long was bubbling to the surface.” He shakes his head and rubs the back of his neck. “I wanted to bring you here today as they have a show on later. But before the show, I thought maybe you could dance and I could be here with you. So you’re not alone. Maybe you’ll be okay knowing someone who loves you is here ready to pick you up if you fall.” He cups my face again as tears well in my eyes, but I still don’t let them fall. Instead, I nod my head at him and we get out of the car. He grabs a holdall from the back seat and I realise he has dance kit for me.

  Fuck knows where he got it from? Still, I need to do this. I need to prove to myself that I can.

  Within thirty-five minutes I’m changed, warmed up and ready to dance. It’s only Saul and me in the room. I look through the music in the CD collection and spot something I used to dance to all the time. Something that pulls at my heart strings. Something that I used to dance to in my bedroom or in the school hall, if nobody was around and think of Saul – ‘Everytime’ by Brittney Spears. I close my eyes but instead of thinking about Saul it takes me right back there.

  I put the next track on and closed my eyes waiting for it to start. The music chilled me, but also flowed through me. I always thought of Saul when I danced. It was him or Dad, but at least with him I had time. I moved back and then spun rounding out my body and throwing out my arms. I caught the bookshelf with my hand and cursed, “Fuck!” I clutched my hand and it throbbed. I needed to go downstairs and grab some ice to soothe it, but I knew mother had company.

  I sat on my bed and switched off my music. “Ouch,” I grasped my hand again, it was seriously stinging. Deciding to be really quiet and hopefully nobody noticing me, I unlocked my bedroom door and opened it thanking my stars that the door was silent. Slowly I made my way to the top of the stairs and looked down seeing if I could place where people were. It sounded like they were all in the back room. If I were quick, I could scoot into the kitchen grab a tea towel and some ice and be back in my bedroom with the door locked in minutes.

  I glanced down at my hand which seemed to be swelling while tiptoeing down the stairs and past the front room door. When I reached the kitchen, I picked up a grubby tea towel off the side because I didn’t want to spend time rummaging around for a clean one…especially while the activities were still in full swing. I gently prised the freezer open and found a tray o
f ice. I shut the door and turned around ready to make my dash upstairs, but was met by a man. I looked up at him. He was probably mid-thirties, had a pop belly, a scruffy beard, and was balding. He smelt bad too. I wasn’t sure what of, but he had beads of sweat on his forehead. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the worst thing, the worst thing was the beads of sweat he had on his chest, the same chest that had no shirt on.

  He looked at me and must have seen the fear in my eyes as he smirked and grabbed my arm. He leant down and sniffed my hair. I shivered. This guy was creeping me out, and now I needed another shower. He, however, mistook my shiver.

  “You smell good, pretty girl. Do you like me close to you?” His breath stunk and I thought I was going to be sick.

  “No, I…I…hurt m…my hand and n…needed some ice,” I stuttered gesturing to the ice.

  “Ahh, let me have a look at that.” He didn’t give me a chance to protest, taking my hand and kissing it all over. I felt the bile rise in my throat and I wanted to scream. I knew my mother had other people in the house and that someone would hear me.

  “Let me g…go. I’m on…only fourteen,” I said hoping it would make him stop. He didn’t. He completely ignored me.

  “Here let me see if I can make it all better,” he said with a smug smile. He brought my hand down to his groin and started rubbing my hand up and down on what I assumed was an erect penis. My hand throbbed, but I wouldn’t unclench it. I was too scared that he would wrap my hand around him if I did. The bile rose again and I couldn’t stop it this time. I threw up all over his trousers and his feet.

  “You little bitch,” he shouted and backhanded me catching my cheek and ear. I dropped to the floor and the noise must have alerted the rest of the house as my mother was there in the next instance, along with some other creepy guys.

  “I’ll deal with this,” she said to the others who all walked back into the other room. “What the fuck are you doing down here?” she snapped at me. The put-on posh accent that she usually adorned completely gone.

  “I…my…I,” I stuttered holding out my swollen hand.

  “She wanted me. I’ll have her, I’ll even give you something extra for her,” he said to mother. She swung her head from me to him obviously contemplating it.

  Until finally she said, “No Patrick, not tonight.”

  He looked back over at me again. “Shame,” he said before walking away.

  “Clean this up,” my mother hissed while pointing at my mess.

  “Keep your slutty little hands to yourself,” she added and spun around to re-join her party.

  I cleaned up and ran back to my bedroom, the ice and tea towel forgotten while sobbing myself to sleep.

  Creeping out in the morning and going over to Pea’s house, her gran fixed my hand and didn’t push me when I wouldn’t tell her what had happened, even though my eye was purple. I told her that I fell out of bed.

  The song has finished and I didn’t even feel myself really moving. But I must’ve been as Saul is beaming at me. He has no idea what I’d been thinking about or what I’ve lived through. One day I’ll tell him. One day I will share everything. One day when I am healed. It’s going to take one step at a time.

  I’m not scared.

  I’m brave.

  I need to fight for myself. I need to fight to be whole.

  I look over to Saul. “Thank you for doing this for me.” Getting up he walks over, wrapping his arms around me.

  “Just in case there is any confusion I want to lay this shit out straight.”

  I stare at him wondering where he’s going with this.

  “From now on it’s me and you babe.”

  I stop breathing.

  “For too long I’ve pushed you away, thinking I’m not good enough for you. But fuck Soph, it doesn’t matter whether I am or I’m not, I can’t fight it anymore. Just know that I’ll always fight for us and I’ll try to be a better man. I will always try to make you happy, and most of all, it will always be you. Whether you’re with me or not, it will always be you. Only you.”

  I close my eyes and breathe out laying my head on his chest. I feel one of the broken pieces of my heart slide back into place.

  He stroked his hand down my face, my neck and then followed down to brush over my breast. "I want you little girl, and I'll have you, one way or another. Oh, I'll have you all right, don't you worry about that."

  I sit up panting, my eyes dart to every inch of the bedroom trying to make sense of where I am, and whether I'm alone.

  I am.

  I breathe a sigh of relief and try to calm my heartbeat. Closing my eyes, I can still see his face so I immediately open them again. Ever since I danced to that song and my memories assaulted me, I haven't been able to escape again. Seems I’ve opened a box that doesn't want to close. I know I should deal with the past, and that it's not healthy to lock it away, but I've never felt strong enough. Life doesn't slow down though or stop for you to take a minute when you need one. I've worked that out. Especially this last year.

  Looking at my hands, they still tremble slightly, but I'm now able to grab my phone from my bedside table without fear of dropping it.

  It's 9.30 a.m. and I have twelve missed calls. My eyes bug out and then I freak slightly as I realise that nine of them are from Con. I call him straight back.

  "Soph!" he answers on the first ring.

  "What…What is it?" I shout, fear making my heartbeat pick up once again.

  "I've been trying to get hold of you. I need your help," he answers.

  I rub my hand down my face and take a second.

  "So, let me get this straight. Nobody is dead, nobody is injured, and aliens haven't landed and threatened you with an anal probing?" I ask.

  Con snorts. "What? Soph have you finally lost the plot?" he questions me half joking.

  "Possibly," I murmur. "So where's the fire?" I ask confused.

  "Okay, so you know next month Pea will visit her mum and Gran's grave? Specifically on her mum's birthday."

  "Yeah?" I reply in question.

  "Well, I want to know if you could go with her?"

  "You aren't going?" I'm even more confused now.

  "No, listen Soph. I need you to concentrate for a moment," he tells me. I cross my arms over my chest while holding the phone between my cheek and shoulder in protest of him telling me off like an errant child. Although he can't see me so it's pretty pointless, but it makes me feel better.

  "Right, I need you to take her. I want you to get her there at lunchtime. 12 o'clock to be precise. That’s all you need to do. Can you handle that?"

  "Yes, dipshit, I can handle that," I respond and he huffs down the line.

  "Why? What are you planning?"

  "You'll see," he says and hangs up.

  Cheeky fucker.

  I quickly type out a text to him.

  Me: You're a cheeky fucker. Don't hang up on me again!

  Con: Sorry Soph, things to do. Plus, you forgive me ‘cause you love me.

  I smile even though I don't want to.

  Me: Still a dipshit though.

  Con: True, but I love ya!

  I shake my head smiling and look at the other missed calls. Saul, Eric and work. I groan. Work first, I guess. Finding my agent Sharon’s number, it’s answered on the second ring, unfortunately by her assistant Carlie.

  Carlie doesn’t like me. Carlie, actually, hates me. I think she’d be happy if I were to be attacked and eaten by rabid seagulls.

  Carlie had a thing for Dane.

  Dane didn’t have a thing for Carlie.

  Then Dane had a thing with me…hence why Carlie doesn’t like me.

  “Sophia, sweetie, how are you?” she says in a fake voice. I pull the phone away from my ear and give it a dirty look. Like she cares how I am. When I put it back to my ear, she proves she doesn’t really care as she’s already onto her next sentence.

  “…And it starts at nine,” she finishes.

  “Errrm, can you repeat that I mis
sed it.”

  “Sophia, you need to pay attention. I’m busy, we all have things to do to make sure beautiful models like you have work coming in.” I roll my eyes. Everything she says makes me want to tell her to shove it up her whizz-wazz. It doesn’t help that she like them all in this industry also insists on calling me Sophia.

  “Just repeat what you said,” I return bluntly. I’m not in the mood to deal with her tantrums today especially as the dream is still clinging to my chest.

  She huffs then slowly repeats what she had said. “There’s a fashion show next Friday night. It’s a new designer and it’s short notice. I know you don’t usually like runway stuff, but as it’s in London and you have nothing else on, I thought I’d sign you up. The venue is The Design Museum. Next Friday at nine!”

  I roll my eyes at her comment about me having nothing else to do. That’s so typical of her, she assumes if I have no work then I have nothing. Still, I could do with a distraction at the moment and runway stuff takes more of my concentration, because it’s not something I usually do. Avoiding it normally, because I don’t like everyone staring at me.

  The more I think about it, the more I wonder why I’m still a model.

  I shake my head and answer, “Okay Carlie, I’ll do it.”

  “Well, I should think so. You haven’t been offered any work for a week now, and you don’t seem interested in going to casting calls anymore either. You’re not getting any younger and new models are climbing the ranks all the time, you know?” she chides.

  I laugh out loud.

  “Why are you laughing? I wasn’t joking,” she splutters. “Don’t think for a second that I couldn’t talk to Sharon and get your arse fired. There are hundreds of girls willing to take your place, skinnier and younger.” I can hear the smirk in her voice.