Breaking Through the Waves (11 page)

14

When the knock sounded on the door, Sydn
ey flinched in her seat on the couch. Coen stood up and they both walked to the door. Before they reached for the handle, Coen grabbed her shoulders and turned her body to face him.

“They can’t hurt you,
Syd.”

“I know.”

He pressed his forehead against hers. “I’ll be here the entire time. Please don’t be scared.”

She grabbed her engagement ring to pull it off. “I should return this so they don’t get the wrong impression.”

He steadied her hand. “Keep it. Tell them we are engaged and we live together. That will explain why I’m here all the time.”

She left the ring on her finger. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his nose against hers. “Absolutely.”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath and turned toward the door. When she placed her hand on the handle, it stayed there for a long time, not moving. After her resolve flooded through her body, she found the strength to turn it.

Her mother’s face was the first thing she saw. She had the same sandy-brown hair that Sydney had and even the same forest green eyes. Her body wasn’t what it used to be. She had gained significant weight, making her at least eighty pounds heavier. Since she was so short, it made her look rounder. She smiled at her daughter. Her teeth were stained yellow from liquor and cigarettes.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” her mother said as she extended her arms, wrapping them around Sydney.

Sydney stood there awkwardly for a moment, unsure how to respond. She couldn’t remember the last time she embraced her mother. She wasn’t expecting the affection but gave her a hug anyway. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

Her mother pulled away. “Still plump like usual.”

Sydney opened her mouth to speak, but Coen spoke first. “And absolutely gorgeous,” he said, hooking his arm around her waist.

Her mother looked at him. “And who is this?”

Sydney smiled at him then looked at her mother. “My boy—fiancé.”

Her mother raised an eyebrow. “You’re engaged?”

“Yeah,” Sydney said with a smile. It was all an act but the idea made her happy anyway.

Coen extend
ed his hand. “I’m Coen. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Morris.”

“Call me Denise,” she said quickly.

He nodded. “Denise it is.”

She stared at him for a long time, practically gawking at him. “And you want to marry my daughter?” The disbelief in her voice was evident. Sydney knew she shouldn’t let it bother her but it did. She always felt like she wasn’t good enough for Coen, that he was too good-looking for
her. His inner beauty triumphed over hers as well. She never met someone so selfless and loyal.

Coen’s hand gripped her side but his voice didn’t betray his annoyance. “I can’t believe it either.
I wasn’t sure why she picked me of all people. She could have whoever she wanted.”

Her mother nodded, but said no
thing. She stepped aside and let Johnny enter the room. He smiled at Sydney and his eyes trailed across her body, taking in her curves, especially the roundness of her breasts. When he used to harass her, he was always obsessed with her tits. They were even bigger since the last time he saw her. Sydney felt the lust boil from his skin as he gawked at her. He was bigger and taller than she remembered him. He was a year older than her and he never let that fact leave her knowledge.

“Hey,” he said with a smile.

Coen extended his hand, a look of murder on his face. “Sydney’s fiancé.” He didn’t say his name, just his title. Johnny’s eyes flashed surprise for just a moment but then it disappeared, hiding under the surface. He didn’t shake Coen’s hand for a long time. Even though Coen promised he wouldn’t be angry at her family or hit them, she was surprised he kept his word. After watching the tension in Coen’s shoulders, she knew this was difficult for him, shaking the hand of his girlfriend’s tormentor.

Johnny finally reached out and shook it, meeting Coen’s gaze. His blond hair was short and spiked, revealing his blue eyes. There was vile and poison inside of him. He was psychotic. Just by looking at him, Sydney knew how twisted and evil he was. She hoped he had changed in two years, growing in
to a man that was trusted and respected. Obviously, she had been wrong. He still saw her as beneath him, someone he could take advantage of. When he saw her cry, he just smiled wider, even laughed. Sydney felt the emotions return to her but she forced them back to the pit of her stomach, hidden from everyone in the room.

When Coen pulled his hand away, he nodded to Johnny but there was no kindness in his look. His lips were pressed tight
ly together, like he wanted to stop himself from screaming every possibly profanity at him. Sydney knew Coen would kill him if he could get away with it. A part of her wished that was possible, that Johnny would die and be buried in a ditch somewhere, never to be seen again.

Johnny carried his bags into the house then deposited them on the floor
. Sydney took a deep breath when she waited for the third member of her family to walk inside. She wasn’t sure who she hated more, him or her stepbrother. It was a tie.

“Howdy,” Dan
said as he walked through the door, a large bag over one shoulder and another in the other hand. He stopped in front of Sydney and looked down at her. He didn’t reach to embrace her and neither did she. The only time their skin touched was when he was slapping her across the face. Even in the spirit of the holiday, she couldn’t force herself to be kind to him. All she could manage to do was speak.

“Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Yeah,” he said as he looked around the house. “Wow. This place is small.”

“I said that many times,” she said.

“But the beach is just a few feet away,” her mother said.

It was obvious they only came to get a cheap vacation. They didn’t care about seeing her or spending the holiday with her. Coen was right. She should have held her ground and just said no to begin with.

Coen waited for Dan to acknowledge him, but he kept examining the house, disappointment on his face. “I’m Coen,” he said as he outstretched his hand.

Dan
took it. He shook it without looking at him. He wore a long sleeve blue shirt and dark jeans. His heavy boots left a trial of filth on the floor. Sydney was normally picky about keeping her house clean, but it would be pointless to ask him to remove his shoes. It would just lead to an argument, one that she would lose.

“Dan
,” he said. He tossed the bags on the floor then walked further into the house.

Sydney sigh
ed then followed them.

“When’s dinner
gonna be ready?” Johnny said as he sat on the couch and grabbed the remote, turning on a reality show.

“In a few minutes,” Sydney answered tersely. She walked into the kitchen with Coen tr
ailing behind her. Her family was so embarrassing that she wanted to cry. Her mom lit a cigarette and started to smoke it in the living room, and Dan placed his feet on the couch. Coen wouldn’t want to be with her after these next few days were over. She would judge him if he stayed.

She pulled the turkey out of the oven and started to set the table. Coen helped her and moved all of the heavy stuff for her. He set the table and lit a few candles, trying to tone down the tension in the room as much as possible. Sydney was not looking forward to eating. It would be quiet time where they were facing each other at the table, forced to speak to one another. She made sure she had the turkey carver next to her wine glass.

Coen glanced at her, a slight smile on his face. Humiliated by everything that was happening, she looked away and tried not to cry. She opened the refrigerator and looked for something she didn’t need. Wordlessly, he placed his hand on her back and kissed her neck, dissipating her tears. He placed his chest against her back and started to breathe, making her copy him. In a few seconds, she felt better. Coen grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the refrigerator, closing it.

“Dinner’s ready,” Coen sa
id. Sydney was thankful for the announcement. Her throat was too dry to speak.

Dan
clapped his hands together. “Bout’ time.”

Johnny walked to the table then dropped in his seat, scooping food onto his plate before everyone had taken their seats.

Just like Coen always did, he pulled Sydney’s seat out for her and helped her sit down before he sat beside her at the table. He poured her a glass of wine, knowing she would need it, then poured his own. “Denise, would you like some?”

“Yeah.”
She practically threw her glass at him.

Coen didn’t react to her utter rudeness. With a smile on his face, he poured the wine and returned
the glass to her. “Anyone else?”

“Beer,” Dan
said.

“I apologize,” Coen said. “We don’t have any.”

Dan looked at Sydney. “You don’t have beer?” His bushy eyebrows drew together and his thick mustache twitched. “You knew we were coming and you didn’t get any?”

“We don’t drink beer,” Sydney said calmly. “We have water and wine. What would you like?” She was shocked that she kept her voice under control. It didn’t betray the pure hatred she felt underneath.

“Rude,” Dan said as he shoveled mashed potatoes into his mouth. No one said grace before they began. They just started to eat everything in sight. No one thanked her for the dinner or complimented her cooking. Nothing was said for a long time. She wasn’t sure if she should feel grateful or just awkward.

“Baby, this is really good. You did a wonderful job,” Coen said before he kissed her on the cheek.

She smiled at him. “Thank you.”

“Baby?”
Dan asked incredulously. “That nickname is too intimate.”

“She’s my
fiancé,” he said calmly.

“What?” he said, food falling from his mouth. He glared at Sydney. “Is that true?”

She held up her left hand. “Yes.”

“I don’t remember you asking for permission, bucko,” he snapped.

Coen didn’t react at all. In fact, his face was stoic. Sydney was shocked by how calm he was. If his family treated her like that, she would either tell them where to go or just walk out. Coen leaned back in his chair but didn’t clench his fists or glare at her stepfather. “Since her father passed away, I had no one to ask.”

“I am her father.”

Sydney almost shattered the wine glass under her hand. He had said that to her too many times. It was appalling and untrue. He wasn’t even like a father to her, just a man that made her life miserable. She refused to let that comment slide. If she was decked in the face because of it, so be it. She wanted him to hit her. Nothing would give her greater pleasure than beating the shit out of him in front of his own son. “You are
not
my father,” she said, staring directly into his eyes.

Dan
met her look and rage sizzled in his irises. It made his coil snap just as much as it made hers. His possessiveness and control over her was something he enjoyed exerting. Every time she defied him, it pissed him off. He leaned forward and looked at her.

Sydney waited for him to say something but he didn’t. The tension picked up in the room. Johnny swirled his fork in his potatoes, his eyes watching the whole scene. Her mother glanced at them as she buttered her roll. Sydney kept her body relaxed as she waited for him to say or do something. Finally, he picked up his fork and kept eating, backing down.

Sydney was shocked. She hadn’t expected that reaction at all. He didn’t even yell at her or threaten to slap her. He continued to glance at her with looks of hate but that was the worst of it. When she looked at Coen, she saw the death threat in his eyes. Now she knew why Dan didn’t make a move. Coen was larger than him, his arms flanked with muscles and his shoulders wide. His chest was hidden under his shirt, but the dimensions of his chest were unmistakable. Pounds of muscle covered his chest and torso, making him a formidable opponent. If she were forced to fight him, unaware that he was proficient in different practices of martial arts, she would fear him. He was younger than Dan by many years, but that just made him even more frightening. His presence was her protection against another beating. She squeezed his hand under the table, thankful that he was there.

Her mother looked at her. “How’s school,
Syd?”

“It’s good.”

“What are you learning again?”

“I want to be a
marine biologist.”

“What the hell is that?” Johnny asked.

“I study the life of the ocean,” she said calmly.

“Waste of
time,” Dan muttered as he spoke with his mouth full.

Coen looked at her mother. “She just did research with Dr.
Gilbert Goldstein, one of the most respected researchers in his field. She studied the salt dilution methods of great white sharks. She’s very talented and intelligent. She’s one of the top students in our class.”

Sydney’s cheeks reddened as she listened to his praise of her. She wasn’t used to someone speaking of her in an admirable way. He sounded proud of her.