Page 56 of Declan's Dove

She doesn’t speak, only nods. I spin Violet around and take her hand in mine, leading her back to the table where I have the plates all set up. She takes a seat and, placing my hands on the arms of her chair, I cage her in, then lift her—chair and all—as I scoot her seat in closer.

Not backing away, I lean in close to her ear and ask, “Do you need a blanket for your legs? It’s getting a little chilly in here.” Violet shivers as I run my nose up and down her neck.

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll be right back.” I take a step back, but don’t miss the long breath she lets out as soon as I do. I smirk at her, but don’t let her see me as I grab the blanket off the back of the couch and bring it back to where she’s waiting.

When I move to pull her chair out, Violet reaches out and snags the blanket from my hands.

“I can do it myself. Thank you.” She’s flustered, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like it. I need her off guard while we have this conversation, so she doesn’t throw up walls between us. I need to know everything there is to know about her husband and any potential threats he may bring with him.

I grab our plates from the warmer in the kitchen and bring them to the table, setting hers in front of her first.

“Do you want something to drink? There’s a wine chiller with a couple of bottles of wine, some beer, and a few water bottles. Or I can make us some coffee if you’d like,” I offer. She’s watching me, uncertainty dancing in her eyes.

“Water is fine. Thank you.” Her voice is soft and timid. Not at all like my Dove. Something has her spooked, and I’m not sure if it’s the conversation we’re about to have or the fact we’re here alone.

When I come back to the table with two water bottles, Violet’s brows furrow.

“Is something wrong, Dove?”

“You aren’t going to have a beer?” She looks almost shocked.

“No.” I smile. “I want to keep a level head.”

“Oh, I see.” Violet ducks her head and begins cutting into her steak, taking one small bite at a time. I watch as she does everything with slow, calculated moves.

“How’s your steak?” It’s almost robotic the way she’s moving. Cut a piece, lift it to her lips, take the bite, sit up ramrod straight, chew, all the while looking straight ahead but not at me. It reminds me of the way they made us eat in the chow hall in camp when I was a kid. It was a game we played to see who would crack first, but Violet’s not cracking.

What the hell is going on?

She finishes chewing and swallowing before wiping her mouth with a napkin and replying stoically, “It’s very good. Thank you.”

I set my knife and fork down and reach for her hand, stopping her next bite. “Baby, what’s wrong? Why do you look so stiff? It’s just dinner. We’ve had food together before. What’s going on?”

Violet’s eyes glass over and her shoulders drop. Her fork and knife are set down on the table and her hands are pulled from mine and are now in her lap.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I guess the mention of my husband has brought back some old behaviors. I don’t even know how it happened.” She chuckles softly. “It started in the bathroom. I cleaned it exactly the way he would’ve wanted it. The way I had to do it for years to keep from upsetting him.”

“The bathroom?”

She smiles softly, but it doesn’t meet her eyes. “It’s silly, I know. But everything had its place, and it had to be in a neat, orderly fashion in case anyone came by to visit the house. It needed to be perfect, and I needed to be the perfect wife. It was all a facade, of course.” She twists her hands in her lap, and I get up to move onto the seat beside her, gripping her hands in mine to stop the nervous movements.

“If anything was out of place. If I didn’t look put together. If the house wasn’t perfectly clean. He would, uh …”

“He would hurt you,” I fill in the blanks for her. Violet nods.

“I got used to it after a while. It wasn’t until he started threatening Carter that I started fighting back.” Her brow creases, and my temper is boiling just under the surface.

Kayce didn’t mention the boy being hurt.

“It’s good that you fought, Dove. It shows how much you love your son.”

Her smile drops, and her tears spill over the corners of her eyes as she shakes her head. “No. I fought back because I knew I could take the beating, but Carter was so young. Just a little boy. He didn’t deserve the man’s wrath. He was innocent in it all.” She looks down, shaking her head again, and I gently lift her chin, forcing our eyes to meet. “When James realized I would fight back if he went after Carter, it did something to him. He would use Carter as leverage to keep me under control. But sometimes …” Her breath hitches and her face pales. “James would purposely go after Carter and hurt him. He got some kind of sick satisfaction out of hearing my baby scream in terror. Even if the house was perfect. If I was perfect. If I did everything right, he would still threaten my son to get a rise out of me. And then he would …”

I pull Violet into my lap and hold her to my chest as she hiccups and sobs.

“Shh, baby. I’ve got you. He won’t hurt you anymore. He won’t touch Carter either. You have my word. I’ll keep both of you safe. You understand?” I pull back, lifting her chin once more so I can see her eyes, but also so she can see the seriousness looking back at her in mine. “You two are mine now. He won’t hurt either of you ever again, because I’ll kill the bastard if he tries.”

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