Set Me Free (17 page)

“You are his exact opposite,” I told him. “In every way.”

He hugged me tight, one strong hand holding my back and the other twining back into my hair. I wound my arms around his waist and rested my forehead against his chest, right next to the button he’d missed in his rush to come to my rescue. On impulse, I kissed the missed button. He stirred and kissed my hair, then pressed slow, lingering kisses to my temple and cheekbone.

All of the adrenaline and emotion from tonight coalesced into longing, deep and fervent. My heart beginning to pound, I undid the buttons above and below the missed button and kissed the strong lines of his chest though his undershirt, acutely aware of his rough breathing.

He murmured my name as I worked his shirt buttons open, slowed down by my wrist brace.

“Are you sure…?” he said softly.

“I’m sure.”

The thin fabric of his undershirt was already too much of a barrier. I wanted to feel his skin against mine. I tugged his shirt off, and he helped me pull mine off over the brace. He unzipped my jeans and slid them down past my hips, followed by my underwear. In the thin strobes of moonlight coming through the window, his cheeks darkened.

I watched him unbutton his fly and bit my lip. “Are we…are we exclusive?”

“Yes,” he whispered. “God, yes.”

I didn’t want to admit how relieved I was by his answer. “I’m on the pill,” I said instead. Thank goodness I’d always gotten it in three-packs. “If you want to…”

“Yeah. Yeah.” He shucked off his jeans and boxers and sat down on the edge of his huge bed. Gently, he took my good hand and drew me towards him. I climbed onto his lap, straddling his powerful legs. I would’ve rather had him on top of me, but after Rhys had pinned me like that… I wanted this to be as different as it could be. Because Owen was so different.

We kissed again, slowly at first, but building and building. I reached between us and took him into my hand, admiring how hard he was, the silkiness of his skin. He sucked in a harsh breath. “M.—I want to be inside you.”

Shifting position, I slid him in, gasping with mingled pain and pleasure at the size of him. “Oh, God, Owen—”

He took my hips in his hands to work out the rhythm, while I looped my arms around his neck and pressed my lips to his. His tongue slipped into my mouth, and his warmth, his taste, was intoxicating, better than any painkiller. But even that couldn’t compare to the way he felt inside me, completely naked, and, for this moment, completely mine.

“
Supe que eras el amor de mi vida
,” I breathed, my tension building so fast I barely knew what I was saying, only that I needed to say it. “
No importa lo que ocurra
,
mi corazón te seguirá perteneciendo
.”

My body tightened painfully, and I came so hard I had to choke back a cry, clinging to him and shuddering. His hands tightened around my hips, and he drove harder into me, sending aftershocks of pleasure through me.

“Irresistible girl,” he growled into my ear, his words a delicious contrast to his tone. He nipped my ear, making me shiver one last time. “Magical girl.”

His breath hitching, his body tensed. He thrust even deeper inside me, once, twice, and shared himself with me. A gift, to be treasured, just like I treasured him.

Holding me close, he pressed his face into my hair. “Was that Spanish?”

“Yes.”

“What did you say?”

I smiled, wishing I were brave enough to tell him the truth: that he was the love of my life, that my heart was his, always. “I said you had a hot ass.”

“Makes sense.” He grinned.

T
he next morning
, I woke up with a start from a nightmare about Rhys. My eyes flew open as I gasped for breath—until I realized I was in Owen’s bed. The nightmare faded. I was safe.

I reached for him, but he wasn’t there. A neatly folded note lay on his pillow.

Oh, no
, I thought, sitting up and snatching the note. Not again.

A huge smile spread across my face.

I hopped out of bed and pulled on another one of the shirts Owen had grabbed for me last night. It was one of my gaudier tops—a froth of lace and silk. He’d even grabbed a necklace off my wall of jewelry: a big cameo on a black ribbon. The necklace and the shirt actually matched perfectly, though the effect was a bit gothic. The one thing he hadn’t brought for me was makeup, which meant I had no way to cover up the ugly bruise on my jaw. I supposed I should view the bruise as a badge of honor, a symbol of my escape, but it was hard for me to see it that way. If it weren’t for Owen, I doubted I would have escaped.

I followed the smell of coffee into the kitchen, where Claire was sitting at the table.

“Claire,” I said in surprise, remembering our argument with a pang of regret.

Claire leapt up and swept me into a tight hug. “Oh, sweetie! Owen told me what happened. I’m so sorry. I had wondered—but I didn’t realize how bad it was—”

“It’s okay,” I assured her, disentangling myself from her arms with a smile. “I’m okay now. Owen took good care of me.”

He was standing by the sink, drying a coffee mug with a dishtowel. When our eyes met, he blushed, and my own cheeks warmed in response.

Claire glanced from me to Owen with a fond smile. “I should get back to the shop. I’m just so glad you’re all right. Or mostly all right.” Her smile flickered as she took in my wrist brace, half-hidden under one silky sleeve. “I hope that man rots in jail.”

I shivered. “He’ll find a way out of trouble. He always does.”

“Maybe I’ll give Sherri Lipkowicz a call,” Claire said acidly. “She’ll show him a thing or two.”

“Sherri Lipkowicz?”

“She’s the district attorney for our county,” Claire explained. “But before she became a prosecutor, she was Owen’s defense attorney.”

Suddenly, I remembered where I’d heard her name before. The boring lawyer from Kaye and Andy’s beach party had told me that he worked with Sherri Lipkowicz. He’d even mentioned something about her switching to prosecution from defense—something about a certain case. “She switched sides after Owen’s case?”

“She was so upset by how that awful prosecutor treated him. I’ll never forget it. She believed in Owen every second of that case.”

Boredom had made it sound like she’d regretted helping Owen. People here would find any reason to think of him as guilty.

“I’ll call her if you want, M.,” Owen rumbled. He poured a huge mug of coffee, added cream and sugar, and brought it to me where I was standing by the counter.

Taking the mug in my good hand, I tried to smile. “Okay,” I said half-heartedly. “If you think it’s a good idea.” It was hard to imagine a prosecutor having a word with Rhys, or filing charges against him. And if she did, that could tarnish Rhys’ legal career before it had truly begun. His whole life could change because of me.

“Miranda…” Claire bit her lip. Behind her red glasses, her eyes were sad. “He should pay for what he’s done to you. You know that.”

“I know.” I couldn’t help feeling ashamed, as if I should have known better, or, if only I’d acted a little differently, been a little smarter, none of this would’ve happened.

Claire opened her mouth to say something else, but Owen interrupted her. “Enough. It’s her choice.”

Claire’s gaze flicked towards Owen. She sighed. “I’m sorry.”

What Rhys had done to me was serious. And it wasn’t my fault.

“It’s okay,” I said to Claire. “I understand. And you’re right.”

“There’s a good girl. Good luck at the police station today.” Claire smoothed my hair back from my forehead. The gesture reminded me of my mother, singing lullabies to me in Spanish when I was a little kid:
no llores bien mía, no llores más no.

She started towards the door. “You two are so cute together,” she added, with a little grin, and slipped out the door before either of us could respond.

Owen shook his head. “Sorry, she is so—”

I laughed. “It’s fine.” I leaned one hip against the counter, half turned towards Owen. The bright morning sunlight felt good on my back, soothing that feeling of being bruised all over. “She’s great. And I truly do agree with her. I have to be brave.” Being brave once was not enough, or even a dozen times; I had to
keep
being brave, no matter how hard it was.

With a slight smile, Owen reached across the space between us to tilt my chin upwards. “My brave Miranda,” he murmured, while I wondered if he might kiss me again. He ran his thumb along my cheek, sending the blood rushing to my face. When he dropped his hand, I raised my own fingertips to my flushed cheeks, dazed.

“I should go,” I said. “I should do this before my four o’clock shift tonight. Assuming I’m actually able to work,” I added, thinking about my wrist.

“Or drive,” Owen said. “You’ll probably have to go to the courthouse to file the restraining order, and that’s almost an hour from here.”

I looked up at him curiously.

“That’s where my trial was,” he said, answering my unspoken question. “I spent a lot of time there.”

“I’ll ask Kaye to take me,” I said at once. “I would never—”

“It’s all right, M. I want to help.”

Impulsively, I reached out and touched his hand, skimming my fingers over the muscles of his thumb and the ridge of his knuckles.

His brow creasing, he looked away. “Don’t feel sorry for me, Miranda. Not after what’s happened to you.”

“But all of this, with Suze—it’s so unfair.”

He shrugged. “I’ve made my peace with it. I’m a free man. I know I’ll never find out what happened to Suze. And…I’ve accepted it.” A pained expression flickered across his face.

“So you have no idea?” I said. “Kaye and Andy said there were other suspects.”

“Yeah, I guess. They were investigating Jonas for a while, but it never went anywhere.”

“I met him, you know. At Suzanna’s grave.”

“What were you doing at Suze’s grave?” he asked blankly.

“I don’t know… I like graveyards.” Unable to stop myself, I asked: “Are you the one who brings her the white lilies?”

“What? No, I never go over there.”

“Oh.” I frowned, embarrassed that I had asked. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

“It’s okay,” he said, exhaling. “I don’t talk about this stuff much. It’s hard not to get defensive.”

“Defensive?”

“As if you won’t believe me after all, once you’ve had a chance to think about it. I know I need to trust you.”

“Yes, you do.” I trusted him enough to take him at his word. He should be able to do the same for me.

“I’m sorry, M.,” he said quietly. “I’m trying.”

I didn’t say anything to that. I knew it was complicated, truly I did, but I also knew there was nothing I could say or do to convince him that I believed him, if he wouldn’t let himself be convinced.

* * *

A
s Owen had predicted
, we had to go to the courthouse to file the restraining order paperwork after I gave my statement to Officer Lacroix at Fall Island’s tiny police station. The courthouse was on the mainland, even farther inland than Bellisle. I hadn’t been this far from the island since I’d gotten here two months ago.

The courthouse was a pretty brick building on a quiet, tree-lined street, not too far from a town center. Filing the paperwork was easy, almost anticlimactic. I didn’t have to see a judge. I just gave it to the clerk, and that was that. It was official. There was no going back.

Back on the island, sitting in Owen’s kitchen, I called Andy, because I didn’t think I could face talking to Kaye.

“Hey, M., what’s up?” As always, Andy was simultaneously unruffled and interested.

“So, about work tonight.” My voice shook, and I struggled to stay composed while I told him, as quickly as I could, that my ex had found me in Fall Island last night, and he had sprained my wrist. After a second of hesitation, I told him that Owen had come over and taken me to the E.R., and I was still with Owen now.

“Good,” Andy said. “Glad he’s with you.”

I released a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

“About work,” Andy continued, “no need to come in. When you feel ready to come back, I’ll talk to Emily. Maybe you can hostess for a while, and she can try out waiting tables. She’s been bored lately, anyway.”

My shoulders sagged with relief. “Andy, you’re the best. Thank you.”

I told him I’d come in tomorrow to hostess, if Emily didn’t mind. As we hung up, I heard him say something to Kaye, and the note of dismay in her reply. She would understand eventually.

“I took the day off,” I said. glancing out the window at the sun-dappled pine trees in Owen’s back yard. “I think I’d like to go for a walk.”

Owen was leaning, lost in thought, against his kitchen counter. “Where to?”

“Anywhere. I just…need to get the police station and the courthouse out of my head.”

He seemed to understand that. We went outside and crossed into the cool, cathedral-like darkness of the pine forest.

“Andy’s going to let me hostess,” I said. “He was terribly nice about it.”

“He’s a good guy.”

“He believes in you, you know,” I said, with a careful sidelong glance at him. “When I asked them about your trial, Andy was the only one who was sure it wasn’t you. I don’t think Kaye
wants
to think it was you,” I added apologetically. “She just doesn’t know what else to think, you know? She said it, um, looked bad.”

“Suppose it did,” Owen said, his voice tight.

“Kaye said you had no alibi…”

I watched Owen’s jaw muscles clench, but then he sighed and seemed to force himself to speak. “I didn’t have an—an alibi. I was at home, by myself, practicing the cello.”

We walked onto a narrow deer path, Owen in front of me. I didn’t respond. I didn’t want to stop him from saying whatever he wanted to say. It was hard to believe we were finally talking about this.

“And yes, it did look bad,” he continued, his shoulders tense. “I was supposed to see Suze that night, but we’d argued that afternoon. I knew she had someone else again, even though she had promised me, so many times, that it would stop. So I told her—I told her to forget it.”

“Oh, Owen.” My mouth fell open. “And—?”

“And that was the last time I ever spoke to her. The prosecutor had a field day with that,” he said grimly. “They said I’d found out she was cheating on me, so I killed her in a—a jealous rage.”

“How awful.”

“I was angry with her, but it wasn’t like that,” he said. “I already knew, I’d always known, that Suze just…wasn’t wired for monogamy, I guess you could say.”

“You knew all along? Did you know who…?”

“Sometimes I knew who they were, sometimes I didn’t. There were a lot of guys. Sometimes we were more broken up than together, anyway, but other times… It was like whenever we were getting too close, she would run away. It scared her. Commitment, I mean. Terrified her. It was the only thing Suze was afraid of. And it was the only thing I truly wanted.”

I thought about the way Owen had said
God, yes
last night, when I’d asked him if we were exclusive—so urgent and heartfelt.

“I knew that she was still seeing Jonas sometimes,” he said. “She’d left him for me, and he was totally broken up about it. Still is, probably.”

After seeing Jonas Whittaker at Suze’s grave, I had to agree. You didn’t go to your ex-girlfriend’s grave in the middle of the night if you were over her. Just like you didn’t keep her self-portrait locked in your spare bedroom.

“And there was that guy, O’Brien, the firefighter.”

“Ron O’Brien?
Muscles
?”

“I forgot that was his nickname. Yeah, Muscles.”

The girl certainly had a type
, I thought, looking up at Owen’s broad back.

“And I always thought there was one or two others,” he said. “But I never found out who they were. No one ever did. We’ll never know, now.”

His sentence lingered in the air.

“So that’s it,” he said. “I told her I was sick of her and I didn’t want to see her. I told her not to come over. And that night, she drowned.”

“Owen—” I began, unable to keep the horror I felt from my voice. “It wasn’t your fault—”

“No.” He stopped in front of me on the deer path, turning halfway towards me and folding his arms across his chest. “It
was
. It was my fault. If I hadn’t stopped her from coming over that night, she might still be alive.”

I stared up at his defiant expression. This morning, he’d described himself as a free man, but he wasn’t. He was still in a prison of his own making.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” I said. “That’s why you put up with the way the people here treat you. It’s not just because you can’t leave Suze. It’s because you think you
deserve
it. The death threats, and everything else.”