Romancing Redemption Page 3

  So close to the counter and the other occupants in the bar, he didn’t fail to elicit a gasp from her. “Dang it, Phillip. Stop saying that. What do you want now?” She whispered fiercely. Gus didn’t seem to have heard, but even with only a few customers and a jukebox mingled with underlying chatter, who knew what was really understood in the bar. She might be safe from everyone overhearing as Phillip tossed her secrets out along with all of her dreams like seeds, or not.

  His eyes hardened and his smile disappeared. “You better watch your tone. There’s a barn raising coming up. You’re going with me as my date. Don’t dress in anything too modest. Show some flesh.” He studied her from head to foot, hungrily taking in all of her curves even as she had them hidden well in a modest t-shirt and jeans.

  “I don’t have anything slutty. Even if I did, I wouldn’t wear it for you or anyone. I have to work anyway.” As much as she hated Phillip, she needed him to see her vulnerable side so he wouldn’t question when she said no to things.

  “You have less than two weeks to come up with something, or I’ll find you some clothes myself. If you need money, I’m sure we can make a deal.” He winked, his lips curling at the edges.

  “No. I’m busy that night.” Bastard. She’d made one too many deals with him as it was. Every time she thought maybe he’d been run out of town or better yet, the country, there he was, forcing her to give in to his extortion.

  She clenched her jaw, determined not to go with him.

  “Remember, Rosie, no one wants to do business with a prostitute – unless it’s behind closed doors.” Phillip leaned in to her personal space, taking more of her control than normal. She wanted to sob.

  “I’m. Not. A. Whore.” She bit out. But after each run-in with the man, she couldn’t help but wonder if she actually wasn’t just what he claimed. Hell, she went out with him because he traded secrecy for her time. Wasn’t that what a prostitute did? Traded herself for something of value?

  Gus approached from the other customers he’d been busy with and smiled, pointedly ignoring Phillip. “Hey, Rosie. How’s it going? I didn’t take you for the bar-hopping type.” He winked at her and rested a hand on the counter.

  She swallowed. How much had he heard? What would he think? Who would he tell? She smiled brightly. “I’m not, really. I actually came to see if you would happen to have any vinegar? I’m down at the museum tonight and I ran out. Nothing is open.” Rosie smiled hopefully.

  Dealing with Phillip on her own tried her will to live, but around other people, he minded his manners.

  Gus gave a short nod and jerked his head toward the door into the back kitchen. “Sure, come on.”

  Exhaling on a sigh, she turned from Phillip without acknowledging him. Getting him out of her life had become as impossible as removing weeds from a garden. Her life could be perfect, if he’d leave her alone. Could be. Even dirt poor as she was, it’d be closer to perfect than the hell it’d become.

  Joining Gus at the half-door to the bar, she exhaled in relief. “Thank you so much, Gus. I was starting to think I wouldn’t be able to finish my job in time.”

  His hand rested on her wrist. “Look, Rosie. I don’t mean to pry, but if you can, stay away from that guy. He’s no good.” Worry replaced his jovial manner and he watched her with care.

  She couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked out for her. Tightness constricted her throat and all she could do was nod in reply. He didn’t know she didn’t have a choice. She’d never have a choice again.

  Releasing her, he pointed to the back. “I have some customers, so go ahead and take what you need. I’ll see you at the diner tomorrow night. Meatloaf.” He winked at her before turning to a small group of men at the register. His gruff growl reached the corners of the bar. “I’m coming, quit dinging that damn bell.”

  In the storage area, Rosie chose the first two bottles of distilled white vinegar and carried them to the front. Nice she didn’t have to settle for cider vinegar. She nodded at Gus as she walked and called out. “Thanks, Gus. I’ll square up with you tomorrow.”

  A significant mantle of peace settled around her. For whatever reason, Phillip had left. Her night could go back to normal and she could do what she excelled at. Some people are great at art, others designing something. Rosie had become an expert on cleaning.

  Outside, she lifted one of the plastic bottles to rest on her shoulder and tucked the other up by her side. Her stride opened up and she allowed herself to enjoy the sweet fall air. Her good mood carried her down the street back to the museum.

  Resting her cargo on the cement walk outside the museum, Rosie unlocked the door. She pocketed the keys and bent down to retrieve the vinegar.

  “You know, it’s rude to leave without saying goodbye?” Oily and slick with venom, Phillip’s voice slithered from the shadows of the furniture store building next door.

  Rosie spun, ready to defend herself. She’d kick him in the groin, if she had to. She didn’t need any trouble and she certainly wasn’t going to die right there on the main street of Colby. Not for anything – even some horrible secrets about herself and her sister.

  Her heart raced, and she glared at the bastard who haunted her life. “I didn’t know we had that kind of relationship.” Rosie thrust her chin to the side. “What do you want? I told you, I’m working.”

  “Oh, Rosie, Rosie. We can have a much closer relationship than that. I’ve offered before and I’ll offer again. Come live with me. Strive to please me. You’ll never have to scrimp again. Your sister will be safe and can have a normal life. Just be what I ask and...” He approached slowly, coming at her from the side. In front of her, he reached out and traced her cheek with the side of his thumb. “We could be so happy together.”

  She couldn’t answer. He’d offered so many times to make her his own personal sex partner. Rosie didn’t know what to say anymore. “No” didn’t even elicit a blink from him, like he didn’t hear the word.

  “You know you’d be happy with me. I own the department store and a couple other businesses. I’m looking at buying up that Hat Realty place and turning it into another Ranch. Would you rather work there?” He dropped his hand and leaned against the museum wall.

  “In town? Aren’t there laws against that?” Imagining the beautiful Colby she’d grown to love and respect with a bordello smack in the center of Main Street was an impossibility. “I don’t think the town’s people will allow that. Isn’t it illegal in Montana?” At least in some counties? It had to be.

  “We’ll see. If you’re looking for money, I’ll consider you. But I have to admit, I’d rather give your sister to the masses and have you all to myself.” He crudely motioned to her with his thumb and forefinger in a circle.

  Afraid of his inebriated state and the collective five years of harassment and power he’d taken, Rosie arched her eyebrow in false bravado and pulled open the door, kicking the bottles of vinegar inside.

  No way was she going to bend over or turn her back with Phillip so close and her all alone. “You’re drunk, Phillip. Go home.” She stepped half into the doorway, careful to watch his movements.

  He laughed, shrugging. “I might be drunk. Yep, this could be the truth.” He pushed away from the wall and grabbed her around the neck before she could pull back. Hot beer-scented breath gusted in her face and she wrinkled her nose at the strong liquor stench. He tightened his fingers, digging into the soft flesh on either side of her neck. “But what if I’m not? What if I know you’re trying to get away from me? I’m not stupid, wench. You’re always trying to get away from me.”

  A chill twisted in her stomach. She shook her head in little short movements, holding his gaze with her own. “No, I promise Phillip. I just have a lot of work to do. Seriously. There’s so much and I’m running tight on time.” No way would she whimper or beg. Her pride could only handle so much. There in the darkness of the late evening with no one around to help her, she pushed the boundaries of her humility a little further �
�� for preservation.

  Thrusting her from him, Phillip ran his hand through his blond hair. He groaned. “I don’t know why you do this to me, Rosie. This is your fault. Like you want me to be mad at you. Is that what you want? Do you want me to tell the truth to everyone? Lose everything you’ve worked for? Just so I can have you all to myself?” He closed the distance between them and pushed his face to within a couple inches of hers. Watching her lips, he licked his own. “You belong with me, Rosie. Say it.” He lifted his eyes to hers, his pupils large in the dim lighting.

  She couldn’t repeat it. She couldn’t.

  He cut the space between them to nothing and used his full tongue to lick the side of her face.

  She closed her eyes against the slimy moisture. But didn’t pull away. The last time he’d done it and she’d moved away, he’d slapped her and threatened to send a letter to Sara Beth’s school with information on where they came from.

  He stretched even closer, biting her ear lobe before muttering. “Say it. Then I’ll go so you can work.”

  Rosie chewed her inner cheek. She didn’t want to say anything because every time she did, a small part of her converted to believing she really was a prostitute just waiting to take the last step. There wasn’t a lot left of her that believed otherwise. She closed her eyes and shook her head.

  His eyes narrowed and he tightened his fingers, the grip so hard Rosie’s skin tore under his fingernails. She cried out, against everything her pride demanded.

  Holding her jaw tight, teeth clenched, she spoke without moving anything but her lips. “I don’t belong with you, Phillip. Or anyone. I want to be alone. You need to leave me alone.”

  He pulled back, releasing her and dropping his hands to his sides. Sadness slumped his shoulders and he panted while staring at the ground. “You can’t be with anyone but me. Promise you’re not with anyone but me.”

  Her stinging neck demanded she get rid of him. She nodded, forcing a fake smile. “Of course not. I’m not with anyone. At all.”

  Triumph shined from his eyes. Reaching up, he patted her other cheek. “There you go. You’ll be ready soon. You have to be. And then we’ll be so happy. You’ll be right where you belong.” A manic desperation held his brow up and his lips shaking. He reached up and rubbed at the side of his face, moving to stare at the ground again.

  Grasping the moment, Rosie ducked inside the door and pulled it shut. Locking the deadbolt and sliding the chain, she didn’t look away from his returning gaze, holding her own until his face cleared and he winked. He then turned and sauntered away.

  And why wouldn’t he be proud of himself? He’d freaked her out and succeeded at making her almost wish she were a whore just to get away from his crazed obsession with her. What she wouldn’t give to be away from him.

  Stalking her had seemed to take on a whole new path. Where before he’d just used her past at Madam’s to get her to spend time with him, now everything he said centered around Rosie and him being together. He believed she was a whore, so why would he want to be with her?

  The truth didn’t matter.

  Rosie had never been a whore, but deep down, she wondered when she’d become one.

  That realization crippled her more than any of Phillip’s hateful comments or any of his drunken comments.

  Doing her best to brush the encounter from her mind, Rosie mixed her cleaner and got to work. She’d be hanged before she’d let the presence of a few black marks ruin her plans.

  Even if they were blond.

  Rosie

  Chapter 5

  THE ALARM BUZZED.

  Four hours of sleep wasn’t enough to survive on.

  Buzz.

  But then again, neither was five years of extortion and anxiety over being discovered.

  “Unh.” Rosie rolled over and slapped at the annoying clock.

  She had to get up and take Sara Beth school shopping. Rosie had saved money for almost six months. With the bonus from the museum, she’d almost doubled the amount. She couldn’t wait to surprise Sara Beth with brand new boots and a backpack. Ever since they’d broken free from Madam everything they’d bought had come from thrift stores or dumps.

  Rosie rolled to her back, blinking at the ceiling of their one-bedroom apartment.

  Planning out their day would be fun. First they’d have to stop by the store and purchase vinegar to replace the two gallons she’d borrowed from Gus, and then drop them by the bar.

  Her thoughts fell upon Phillip. Where would she see him that day? Every day of every week of every month he made himself known to her. He wouldn’t let her forget him... or what he would do, if she didn’t... what?

  He had upped his demands the night before. He’d never told her flat out that she couldn’t be with anyone else. He’d always said she’d never get anyone else. That he was the only one who would ever give her a chance.

  He always made her accompany him places, like a date, like a romantic thing, and if she refused, the threats came out like candy on Halloween. If he pushed for sex and she put her foot down, he usually offered money. Their evenings always ended in fights and Rosie running away. He’d always seemed so level-headed in his attacks on her.

  Last night was the first time she’d ever seen him almost lose it.

  Never knowing what was going on in his head or how he was going to react to something kept her biting her nails.

  No matter what she did, he was always there or he knew.

  Gratitude welled within her he hadn’t mentioned Michael to her the night before which could only mean he hadn’t seen her with him. Phillip would never let her live it down. In the past, he’d threatened truck drivers and other men who had been friendly at the diner. What would he do to Michael, if he suspected how Rosie felt?

  If Phillip wasn’t so adamant in expressing how worthless she was, Rosie would almost believe he cared for her. But what guy has a thing for someone they believe is a whore?

  And then there was Michael. What would he do if Phillip approached him with his half-truths and insults? If Rosie allowed herself to delve into a good dream, she’d like to believe he’d hit Phillip and somehow drive him from the county, making any and all threats disappear. But in reality, he’d probably run the other way.

  Rosie sat up and rolled her shoulders. The old rotary phone pinged when she accidentally kicked it as she stood. “Sorry.” She whispered at the technological dinosaur. At least they had a phone. Cell phones and internet were too expensive, but a landline had fit their budget and Rosie needed something for peace of mind while she worked and left Sara Beth at home alone.

  She’d desperately wanted Michael to ask her for her number. She would’ve written it on his hand, something she’d seen in movies from the ‘eighties. Unable to attend high school, she’d missed out on most of the fun teenage things and writing on a boy’s hand had always seemed romantic.

  Oh, well. Rosie shook off regrets. She had work to do and a sister to finish raising.

  Yawning, she straightened the waistband of her sweatpants and rubbed her eyes. Luckily, she didn’t have to work until that evening. If she could just get Sara Beth squared away, she’d try to claim a nap.

  Heating the kettle on the stove, she dug through the cheap tea she splurged on once a month. When living at Madam’s, Rosie had developed a taste for the sweet tea the women would drink in the mornings. Coffee only offered bitterness, but she could handle the sweet heat of a well-brewed tea – no matter what cheap leaves she had to use.

  “Ah. Morning.” Sara Beth stretched her arms over her head and wandered into the adjoining kitchen, living room, and dining room. She took a seat at the vinyl topped table Rosie had found in the dump behind the diner. Restoration work had become a necessity.

  “Mornin’.” Rosie sipped her drink and watched her younger sister. She wrapped her hands around the warm mug and clucked her tongue. “Those pajamas are about worn through. Let’s pick up some to replace them today with your school stuff, okay?”


  Sara Beth shook her head. “No. You need to get some things for your business. I don’t need anything new for school except a few pencils and some notebooks.” She pushed her hair off her face, wringing it into a scarcely controlled mass, binding it with a rubber band.

  Rosie couldn’t help but grin. She’d been dealing with her own mess of the same color hair for as long as she could remember. Even their mother had often thrown her hands in the air and pshed away after attempting something fashionable with Rosie’s locks. One thing was certain, their hair had about as much stubbornness as they did.

  “I’ll need a lot more than a measly twenty bucks to buy the supplies I need.” Rosie smiled to soften her tone, but inside bitterness had an ugly edge. Money was a much sought after commodity for the Scott girls. The last thing she needed was to be tied down to a business owned by someone else. She was good at so many things. All she needed was a chance. She could make a great living, if only she could break free from the chains of her past.

  And Phillip Nelson refused to let her do anything that might give her freedom.

  “So, when are we going to talk about Michael Rourke? I’d like to think he was hitting on you yesterday.” Sara Beth twirled a pen she picked up from the tabletop. She narrowed her eyes. “You need to date more. I hate seeing you all alone.”

  “I date plenty. I go out with Phillip all the time.” She sighed, avoiding the lifted eyebrow and pressed line Sara Beth had turned her lips into. “Okay, look. I have so much going on, I don’t know if dating is a good idea right now. Plus, if Michael wanted to date me, he would’ve asked. Don’t you think?”

  “First of all, what you do with Phillip is not dating. It’s... gross. Are you sleeping with him?” Sara Beth sipped her tea and arched her eyebrow.

  Rosie didn’t want to think about the things that Sara Beth suspected went on with Phillip. Nothing ever did, but she could never tell Sara Beth how he held their past over their future.