“What the fuck is that?” he screamed.
I looked toward where he had pointed in confusion. Mum hadn’t done the washing for a few days, so I’d done a couple of loads and put them out on the drying racks to air. Realising that I’d be out of comfortable underwear by tomorrow I’d put a couple of pairs of knickers on the heater to dry. Frank pushed his screaming, rage-filled face so close to mine that he spat on me as he shouted.
“You think that flashing your underwear at me is going to make me want to get inside you, Emily, you filthy little whore! I’m your stepfather for fuck’s sake. Do you know how fucking sick it is to put that on display in front of me?”
“I’m sorry,” I whimpered in agony, as I fought to control the tears.
With his hand firmly gripped in my hair, he reeled me around and slapped me as hard as he could on the side of my face. The force of his grip held me still so I took the full brunt of the hit. It wasn’t the first time I’d tasted blood.
“Little whores like you are never sorry,” he sneered. “Don’t think I don’t know you’re out trying to get it whenever you can, because I won’t give it to you.”
He hit me again so hard that I was dizzy. It was testament to how fucked in the head he was, that he equated my drying underwear on a rack in the laundry room to my throwing myself at him. It was a frightening insight as to where these beatings would eventually lead.
I WOKE WITH A START and as usual after the nightmares, I could barely breathe. Sucking air into my lungs, I tried breathing deeply to gain control before I hyperventilated. When I caught sight of O’Connell’s unconscious form next to me, I nearly fell out of bed. After a nightmare about Frank, seeing someone in my bed was a sure-fire way to get my heart racing. He was still laying facedown next to me. With his lips slightly parted and snoring gently, he went from looking mean and dangerous, to vulnerable and cute. I couldn’t help but stare. It was probably the only chance I’d ever have to study him this closely. His strong jaw held the hint of a five o’clock shadow, but that only softened the ‘in your face’ sexiness of those sharp cheekbones. He kept the sides of his hair almost military short but the top, usually arranged in messy spikes, was now deliciously rumpled. It only made me want to run my hands through it even more. Long, inky black eyelashes framed the most hauntingly beautiful eyes I’d ever seen. As breathtaking as they were, they always held an edge of danger and barely controlled violence. Even when he was calm, he was still the most dangerous man I’d ever met. He opened them up, and this close I could see the flecks of silver in the blue that made them so remarkable.
“Good mornin’,” he whispered croakily, betraying the amount he’d had to drink the night before.
He looked nervous, and I knew that he was waiting for my reaction to his late night visit. I smiled gently at him, unable to prolong his agony in anticipation of my reaction.
“Good morning. If you’re waiting for breakfast in bed, I’m afraid this hotel stopped serving at eight.”He grinned, and his relief that I hadn’t balled him out, was palpable.
“I totally owe you that,” he replied.
“It would be pretty amazing,” I said as I rolled over in bed to look at the ceiling. “I’ve never had breakfast in bed.”
“No?” he said in astonishment. “What, never?”
I turned my head to look at him and shook it to answer no, unwilling yet to share the details of my sad and pathetic life.
“What would you have if we were in a fancy hotel now, and you could have anything?”
I didn’t need a minute to think about this one.
“Deliciously rich, expensive coffee and a selection of fresh Danish pastries,” I breathed out on a wistful sigh.
O’Connell chuckled and looked across at me hungrily. Without any warning, he sprang up, leant over the bed to grab his boots and sat down again to put them on.
“Are you going home?” I asked reluctantly, afraid of the disappointment I’d feel when he answered.
“No.” He grinned. “I’ve got some errands to run, but I’ll be back in half an hour.” “Okay.” I answered, without asking him where he was going. I moved to get up with the intention of seeing him out.
“Why don’t you stay in bed where it’s warm, and see if you can’t get back to sleep,” he suggested.
“I’m sorry it’s so cold in here,” I apologised nervously.
“My heating isn’t great, and it takes so long to come on that I’m usually on my way out before the room is warm, so I don’t bother with it most of the time.”
Anger flashed through his eyes, and I could see him biting the inside his cheeks to refrain from saying something. I didn’t think that O’Connell’s financial circumstances were much better than mine, but I still felt shamed at the obvious evidence of my poverty. A sure sign of wealth was that rich people never needed to feel cold or hungry. After a moment that felt like an hour, he leaned forward, grabbed the back of his sweater and pulling it over his head, passed it to me.
“What are you doing?” I asked him in shock, still staring at the definition of his eight pack that had been revealed when his t-shirt rose.
“It will keep you warm, and I won’t be gone long.”
“You’ll freeze!” I cried in horror.
“Don’t worry,” he chuckled, “I tossed my jacket on your chair before I passed out. I’ll be fine.”
True to his word, he shrugged on his jacket and grabbed my keys off my desk before throwing the locks on my door.
“Don’t deadlock the door behind me, okay? I’ve got your keys, so I’ll just let myself in.”
I nodded, still grinning like a fool, as I sank further into the warmth of his sweater. He gazed at me intently, like he was trying to memorise something, then with a wink he let himself out and closed the door behind him. I’d bet good money that he’d used the exit wink more than once before. I didn’t for one minute think that he’d come back, but if nothing else, the sweater was a pretty awesome souvenir. I had a spare set of keys, but I’d have to find a way to get my others back from him. I pulled on the neck of his sweatshirt and inhaled deeply. It was still deliciously warm from the heat of his body, and as I snuggled back into bed, the chill of the room barely bothered me.