I AM SAFE
1304 Words
MELANIE
Val looks irritated as he drives. He has every right to.
Not only did I cut his… really fun activity short, I also made him drive this far out, and now there’s going to be blood all over his expensive suit jacket—which smells so freaking good!
My fingers wrap around the edges as I pull it over my body, slowly inhaling his scent.
I can’t take my eyes off the rearview mirror.
Pen is asleep in my arms, but all my focus is on him, and the tattoos that crawl from the back of his left ear, disappearing under the collar of his shirt.
What does he look like shirtless?
His eyes meet mine, and I tear my gaze off him, heat flooding my cheeks.
He looks really different, but in all good ways. His jet black hair is no longer there, but the bald look only adds a dangerous edge to him.
And the way he flexes his tattooed fingers over the steering wheel, again and again…
I swallow the rock in my throat.
My back rests against the leather seat, and my eyelids gently close for a brief rest.
The images begin, mercilessly flashing in my head; His head between my thighs, those tattooed fingers wrapped around my flesh, nails biting into my skin, bruising me, leaving his mark on me.
The grin on his face as his head comes up to look at me, lips slick with my juices.
“You taste so f*****g good, Mel.”
My thighs press together firmly. I imagine the baritone of his breathless whisper as his hands come around my neck.
“You’re mine. You’re all mine.”
Shit!
What are you doing, Melanie?!
My eyes fly open, and I sit up straight.
“Melanie?” His brows furrow.
I flash him a smile and sit up straight, clearing my throat.
I didn’t moan out loud, did I?
Fuck.
What the hell is wrong with me? He can barely stand the sight of me, and I’m drooling over him.
I must be f*****g crazy. Years and years of being unwanted must have messed up my head.
But I shouldn’t want him. I shouldn’t want anyone because no one would ever want me.
Brandon made that very clear when he started starving me and sleeping around with thinner and hotter women.
“We’re here.”
Val’s words cut through my line of thought.
I look up as we drive through the magnificent black gates.
The house looks different from what I remember. There’s a modern minimalist look to the decor now, a stark contrast to the regal regency look it had years ago.
“Evangeline has the house renovated almost every year.” Val says, as if reading my thoughts.
I flash him an apologetic smile.
“Sounds like her.” I chuckle nervously.
Evangeline Law and Evangeline Alistair are two different people.
My mother who always prided herself on being humble and down to earth suddenly only cared about money and appearances.
I tried to tell myself that losing dad after his accident because we couldn’t afford a good hospital, and neither of their jobs had health insurance, could do that to a person.
Still, it was hard.
Val opens my door. I try to carry Pen in my arms, but he’s faster.
“You’re injured,” he spares me a glance. “I’ll take care of her.”
My heart feels softer, at peace.
Brandon might have been a loving father, but he never held Penelope with so much care and thought.
I never felt like she was safe with him, and could never leave her alone with him.
But with this six feet and five inches tall man, my daughter is safe.
It doesn’t matter how tiny she looks, or how far away she is from the ground.
Penelope makes a yawning sound and throws both arms around his neck, nuzzling him.
It might be in my imagination, but I can swear Valentin Alistair smiles.
“She’s a deep sleeper, huh?”
I feel f*****g pathetic with all the smiling and blushing I’m doing, but I can’t help it.
“When she wants to be.”
We walk into the seven bedroom mansion, if I remember correctly, and the lights turn on simultaneously.
“You can have my bedroom for the night.” He says, as he climbs up the stairs that light up with every step he takes.
I can’t share a bed with him! I almost lost control in the car.
“You really don’t have to do that. We can take any of the guest rooms.”
“I’m sure you can,” he doesn’t look at me.
Wow. He must really be pissed that I ruined his night.
Normally, it’ll thrill me to know I annoyed him, but this time, his distance is cutting.
“But we weren’t expecting you. The butler’s gone home for the night, with the keys to the guest rooms. Cassian and Xavier’s rooms are locked since they will be spending the night outside.”
He opens a door and steps in, the room lights up with red and black colors once he does.
The walls are blood red, and every furniture in the room—including his sheets—are black.
I watch him tuck Penelope into bed, covering her with a duvet, and my heart almost stops.
Brandon never, not once in her five years, did that. She would always ask him to, but he always left it for me.
Val turns around to look at me.
“I’ll sleep in my office. There’s a comfortable couch there. Your things will be taken from the car and into your room in the morning.”
I press my palms together.
Why am I disappointed he won’t be here?
“You really don't need to put on a chivalrous act for me,”
He c***s his right brow.
“Pen and I can sleep in the living room. The couches looked really comfortable.” I force a nervous laugh, which he doesn’t return.
Valentin Alistair doesn’t appear to share my sense of humor. He turns on his heel and exits the room.
My smile dissolves into a scowl.
You know what? f**k him!
Fuck him, and f**k his sexy demon looking room!
He is still the same infuriating creature he was, always needing to have the last say, looking down at everyone from his giant horse, perfectly sculpted nose stuck in the air, like he’s better than the entire world.
I remember—perfectly well—why I hated him. Why I should hate him.
Never mind that, there’s no need letting him get under my skin again.
We’re safe now. I just need to get my mother to help me with some money, get a job, and I never have to see any of their faces again.
Pen and I will be safe away from Brandon, and I will be sane away from the Alistairs.
I take off my clothes; from Val’s suit jacket to my bloody sweater, and my jeans, examining the injury at my back.
The bleeding has stopped, but the wound is still a bright red s***h.
I allow my gaze to travel down my body. The bruises of his punches are still on my belly, his whips are on my thighs.
The only part of me Brandon ever spared was my face.
My hands reach for the hook of my bra when the door swings open.
I close my eyes and press my right hand firmly against my lip.
Don’t scream. It’s not him, it’s not Brandon. He’s not here. I am safe. I am safe.
Deep breaths.
I can open my eyes now.
And when I do, I find a shirtless Valentin Alistair by the door.
- Writer
