Edible

Prologue

Past

“Let go!” Rachel demanded, trying to free herself from Ben’s punishing grip around her upper arm.

“I told you to stop,” he shouted as his fingers dug tight into her tender flesh.

That’s going to leave a mark, she thought with a grimace.

Spinning around to face him, Rachel glared up into her boyfriend’s irate eyes. “And I told you not to touch me when you’re angry.”

Ben hauled her in close, and Rachel knew whatever was about to happen wouldn’t be good.

Twenty minutes earlier, he’d come home in a foul mood. That usually equaled a painful evening in the bedroom for her but not tonight. Tonight, she was done.

“I’ll touch you whenever I want to touch you. You got that?” he sneered down at her.

Rachel narrowed her eyes and yanked on her arm again. Instead of letting go, he reached up, gripped the other one, and pushed her back against the living room wall. She hit it so hard that her teeth clattered, and she could have sworn the bookcase beside her shook.

“You’re mine, remember? You do what I say.”

Staring up at him, Rachel knew she was risking his wrath, but she could no longer stay silent.

“Not anymore. You’re leaving. Pack up your shit, Ben, and get out of my place! I’m sick of being your punching bag.”

What happened after that blurred into slow motion.

Rachel saw him raise his hand, and before she could move her face, his large palm connected with her cheek, the brutal force of it resounding in a loud crack. Her face felt like someone had lit it up with a blowtorch.

As she reached up to grip her cheek, a throbbing ache ricocheted in her skull. When she heard the front door crash open, Rachel turned her head against the wall, squinting because of the light shining in from behind the person now standing in the doorway.

“Take your hands off of her.”

Rachel recognized her father’s voice, but it was filled with a cold anger that she had never heard before. Ben took one step away from her, and her father was instantly on him.

Sliding back against the wall, she crumpled to the floor. Through a rapidly swelling eye, she watched while her father punched Ben in the face before he repeatedly landed blows to his gut. When her father finally let up, Ben pulled himself up to his feet and ran from the house, yelling about what a bitch she was and how she had to have “her daddy” save her.

Crouching down in front of her, her father reached out to gently cup her cheek. “What are you doing, baby girl? This is not love.”

Looking up at him, Rachel saw the grim line of his mouth and noticed his hair falling forward. She absentmindedly thought about how Mason had inherited their father’s dark looks. “No man should ever hit you, Rach. Ever.”

He reached down and helped her to her feet. Wrapping a solid arm around her waist, he guided her as she staggered to the sink. He wet a paper towel and then dabbed at the cut on her cheek.

With a quivering lip, Rachel blinked up at him as tears pooled in her eyes. “Please don’t tell Mase or Mom.”

Her father held her in his arms and softly spoke into her ear. “I won’t as long as you don’t tell them I beat the shit out of him.”

Chuckling a little, she kissed his cheek. “I promise,” she whispered.