Best Of My Love. Susan Mallery

about the past with authenticity, no euphemisms. “No. That’s not true. He wasn’t difficult. He was violent. He beat my mother and when I got older, he beat me.”

      The stark words hung in the air between them. Aidan’s expression tightened but he didn’t say anything.

      “One of my earliest memories was of my mom screaming as my dad hit her. I remember being so scared. But when I was little, he never hit me, so in a strange way, I was safe. He didn’t hit Kipling—not like he hit my mom. Maybe it was because Kipling was his son. I don’t know.”

      She reached for her coffee, then realized her hands were trembling and put down the mug. “Kip left when I was about ten. He was a great skier and went off to train. He swore he would always be there for me if things got bad.” She felt her mouth twist. “That’s how we described what happened. In terms of how bad it was.”

      Had he put her mom in the hospital this time? Were there broken bones? Because like so many families dealing with something awful, they spoke around the truth.

      “I remember asking my mom why she stayed and she said it was because she loved him so much. It didn’t make sense to me, but I knew in my heart she would never go. And he didn’t hit me, so we just lived like that. With the unspoken rules. Don’t make Dad mad. Don’t try to protect my mom. Don’t get in the way.”

      There had been so many awful times. Nights when she’d cleaned split skin and held ice against bruises. Times when she’d tried to figure out if a bone was broken and whether or not she should call 911.

      “And then I turned thirteen.”

      Shelby still didn’t know what had set off her father. Whether it was her birthday or the onset of puberty or what. But the day after she turned thirteen, he hit her for the first time.

      “It hurts,” she said quietly. “I’d heard her scream a million times, but until he decked me with his fist, I had no idea how much pain there could be. The shock of it stunned me. The sense of betrayal, of helplessness. My mom tried to stop him, but he pushed her into the wall and kept coming after me.”

      She’d been knocked unconscious. There had been dozens of bruises but no broken bones. To this day, she didn’t know if she’d had a concussion because going to the doctor was out of the question.

      “I called Kip the next morning. He was home in twelve hours and he got me out of there. He was already on the ski circuit, with endorsements and stuff. So he could afford to put me in a boarding school. I stayed there through high school. My mom would visit. Only my mom. I didn’t see my dad again for years.”

      Funny how she could get through all this without tears. Maybe she’d cried herself out years ago. She wasn’t sure.

      “I would plead with her to leave him,” she continued. “Kip would get us an apartment. Dad never had to know. But she wouldn’t do it. She kept talking about how much she loved him and how he loved her.”

      She looked at Aidan and was grateful for the lack of emotion on his face. His dark eyes gave nothing away and that was how she preferred it.

      “She was always bruised. She did her best to cover it up, but I knew what to look for. She would stay with me for a few days, then go back to him.”

      She shifted in her seat and put her hands on her lap. “We lived like that for years. Then she got cancer. It was bad. By the time she told me about it, she only had a few weeks to live. I went back to be with her. Which meant being with him.”

      She squared her shoulders. “It all started again. I knew more and tried to protect myself, but he would come after me while I was sleeping. I would wake up with him beating me. It was horrible. More horrible than you can imagine. Kip was just starting back with his training after winning at the Olympics. I didn’t want to bother him, but I didn’t think I could take it anymore. Then he was injured and in the hospital in New Zealand. The doctors weren’t even sure he would walk again. I knew I had to get through my mom’s last weeks on my own. For her. I had to do my best not to let him surprise me. But it’s hard not to sleep. A couple of times I got a hotel room for the night, but that wasn’t a long-term solution. I was genuinely scared for my life when these two men showed up.”

      Her tension eased as she remembered the shock of opening her mom’s front door and finding Angel and Ford on the steps. “They were from CDS. Mayor Marsha had sent them to protect me.”

      Aidan’s brows rose. “How did she know what was happening?”

      For the first time in several minutes, Shelby smiled. “You’re asking the wrong person. All I knew was that it was a miracle. My dad was arrested on multiple charges. Apparently he wasn’t only a bad guy at home. I stayed with my mom until she died and then I moved here.”

      Aidan leaned toward her. “I’m sorry.”

      “Thank you. I didn’t want to dump all that on you, but I didn’t know how else to explain what I want to do.” Now came the hard part. “There have been men in my life. Boyfriends. Sort of. I want what most people have. Love and a family. But I’m not good at picking the right guy.” She rested her hands on the table. “Because of what happened with my dad, and my mom dying, I started seeing a counselor. She helped me realize that I always pick a guy who can’t commit. The delightful charmer who will never stay or be faithful, or the guy who isn’t over his last relationship. On the surface, I look like I’m so together, but on the inside, I keep myself from getting involved with someone who can love me back because I’m afraid. Except for Kip, I don’t actually trust men. Because of that, I pick ones that are so flawed, the relationship can never work. That way I’m never truly at risk.”

      * * *

      AN INTERESTING SET of facts, Aidan told himself, but it had nothing to do with the building rage inside of him. He didn’t know where Shelby’s father was right now, but he wanted to go find him and give him a taste of what he’d been doing to his family. He wanted to reduce the man to a bloody, broken mass of pain and suffering. Then he wanted to wait a few days and do it all again and again.

      He could understand being annoyed or pissed or even furious. But there was no excuse to take out any of that on someone else. He’d grown up with four brothers, so he’d been in plenty of fights as a kid. But there were rules and one of them was you stick to your own size and gender. And after about age fifteen, you give it up. Aidan believed his own father was an asshole, but even he’d never hit a woman.

      “Aidan?”

      He looked at Shelby. “What?”

      “You’re not listening to me.”

      “Sorry. It’s your dad. Where is he now?”

      “In prison. He’s serving consecutive sentences. Even with good behavior, he won’t be out for about fifty years.”

      “I want to go find him and punish him.”

      She reached across the table and lightly touched his hand. “Thank you. I appreciate the thought, but it’s not necessary.”

      “I need to hurt him.”

      “It won’t change him.”

      Probably not, but that wasn’t what had him telling himself to let it go. Beating up her father wouldn’t help Shelby. That was the real point of it.

      “I wish I’d known you then,” he told her. “I would have helped.”

      Her breath caught and she cleared her throat. “Thank you for saying that. I believe you. Which is part of the reason I wanted to talk to you. About my problem. And yours.”

      “That you pick the wrong guy because you’re not willing to trust a man not to physically hurt you and that I pick the wrong woman because I don’t want to get stuck?”

      She nodded.

      He tried to remember the last time he’d had a conversation this honest and couldn’t. Shelby had laid it all on the line. He figured he had to do the same.