Echoes of Scotland Street (On Dublin Street 5)

An understanding was beginning to dawn in Cole’s eyes.

“Before Ollie, I’d already pissed off most of my family with the choices I’d made when it came to men. I’d been hurt so many times they believed it was my own fault, and I don’t think they’re necessarily wrong. They predicted Ollie would be a disaster, but I was so sure he was different from all the rest. He was romantic and into me, and to begin with he made me feel really special. Until slowly that started to change.

“It was so subtle it took me a really long time to even realize what he was doing to me. How he had started to chip away at pieces of me. He belittled me, made me feel talentless and stupid. He made me feel like it was a miracle I’d managed to land him.”

“He was a dick,” Cole snapped.

“Like I said, I didn’t even know it was happening or how much he emotionally manipulated me into constantly choosing him over my friends and family. Almost two years—that’s how long it took me to wake the heck up.

“It was so stupid,” I whispered, feeling the pain in my gut and in my chest. In fact, I ached all over with the memories. “It was a stupid thing that made me wake up. I was supposed to be going out that night with the girls. I hadn’t seen them in a while and I was always blowing them off for Ollie. So I was excited and all dressed up.

“Ollie came into the bedroom. He told me I looked like a whore, which was his favorite word weapon. It hurt, like always.”

Lifting my gaze to Cole, I sucked in my breath at the blaze of anger in his eyes. He gave me a taut nod of his head in a gesture to carry on.

“I changed my clothes and gave him the silent treatment. He tried to placate me. And then somehow like always he manipulated me, attempting to make it out as though I was choosing my friends over him when he needed me. He’d had a bad day at work or something and he just wanted a quiet night in with me. So I blew the girls off. They were beyond annoyed. Like, no-longer-speaking-to-me annoyed. And then a while later he said he was going out with the band.

“I was so angry. I never argued with him, but I was so, so mad at him that night that I let him have it.” My eyes held Cole’s as I silently tried to prepare him. “Ollie didn’t say anything. He just swung his arm out and backhanded me across the face. He’s six foot and a drummer. I went flying across the room and caught my hip on the coffee table as I went down.”

“Shannon . . .” Cole’s teeth were gritted and he was rising from his chair, but I halted him with tears in my eyes.

“He was so apologetic. He cried. He promised it wouldn’t happen again. I believed him.” The tears fell. “I’m so stupid.”

“I don’t know if I can hear much more without breaking something,” Cole said, his voice shaking.

“I need you to. I need you to try to understand.”

Muscle flexing in his jaw, he nodded.

“I didn’t tell anyone. And although I stayed with him, what he’d done to me festered inside me. I couldn’t bear his touch, in bed or out, and he grew frustrated.” I exhaled heavily, my fingers trembling. Sometimes it felt just like yesterday. “He punched me one night when I shoved him off me.

“The next morning he went to work and I called in sick. I packed all my clothes, only taking what I’d need—the rest could burn in hell along with Ollie for all I cared. However, it was like he had a sixth sense or something, because I was just about to leave when he walked through the door. He’d cut out of work early. I should have called Logan before it even got to that point.”

“Logan?” Cole frowned.

“My big brother.” The ache inside me intensified. “It’s just me, Logan, and my sister, Amanda, and our parents. But I’ve never been close to any of them, just Logan. My mum and Amanda had always resented how close Logan and me were. He was one of my best friends.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask what happened next.”

“Ollie took one look at my suitcase and he flipped out. He started yelling that I wasn’t going anywhere, that I was his, only his.” The stinging in my nose began again, the tears welling up fast as I heard his voice replaying in my head. “And then he was shouting . . . just nonsense and he . . . he started beating the living daylights out of me. I tried to fight.” I wanted Cole to know that. “I tried, but he was so much bigger than me—”

“Shannon—”

“He stopped hitting me.” I sucked in a shuddering breath. “And he started touching me, tearing at my clothes, repeating over and over that I was his. And I—I knew. I knew he was going to rape me.”

Cole stood up suddenly, fists clenched at his side.

I shook my head at his pleading eyes. “No. It was the last straw for me. He’d taken so much. I couldn’t let him take that. The adrenaline kicked in, numbing the pain, and I was clawing and scratching and biting at him. Eventually I kneed him between the legs and he lost his grip on me. I got out from under him, the adrenaline kept me going, and I got away.” That was when I started to cry in earnest and apparently Cole couldn’t deal with being across the room anymore.

Suddenly he was on the sofa beside me, his arm around me, holding me close.

“I should have gone to the hospital,” I sobbed. “Or the police. I didn’t think. I didn’t realize what a mess I was in. I went to Logan.” I stared up into Cole’s soulful gaze, brushing angrily at my tears as I pleaded silently with him to understand. “I didn’t think. I didn’t mean to be so selfish.”