Chapter 284: Claimed By My Stepbrother (Cadell Security Series)

Seona’s POV

Davis appearing in the gym rattled me, I can’t pretend otherwise. I hate to admit it to myself but the large, darkened building had become a refuge for me, somewhere outside of the apartment that I felt safe. Having my husband appear in front of me, just reminded me again about how vulnerable I am, how he will always find me.

I clench my fists in my lap as I sit beside Mark in his truck, heading back to the bakery. No! I’m not doing this! I’m not letting Davis take this from me, not this time. Everything I’ve ever had, ever loved doing, Davis gradually stripped from me. I couldn’t see it at the time, I truly believed that I was making compromises for my marriage, that Davis sacrificed as much as I did. Now though, standing outside of our life, having watched Mark and how he is with me, building me up every time I wobble, encouraging me even when he doesn’t agree with my choices because he respects my right to choose, I see how much of myself I gave up for my husband. It’s not just Mark either, I see the other members of the Cadell team and how they treat their partners, how their wives and girlfriends happiness matter to each of the men that work with the soldier beside me. I am suddenly acutely aware of what Davis demanded I remove from my life, how it was all one sided, as Davis never gave up anything he truly cared about, I was just supposed to give up my life, my choices, my dreams to accommodate his wants. Everything I was coerced to do, went so far above what anyone should be asked to do that I actually try to work back in my mind how it happened.

My pottery class that I took once a week, I gave that up because that was the night that Davis wanted to do overtime at work and his work was for the good of our family where as my pottery was all about me. I gave up my car as we couldn’t afford two as I didn’t work, because Davis didn’t want me too, and he needed his to get to work each day. I could walk to the shops, after all, I needed the exercise as being a stay at home wife was adding a few pounds to my figure . . .

Thought after thought rushes through my mind, the occasional nights out with Daisy to a bar or the cinema, or the monthly Sunday meal with my mother which we made sure to do every month since my father died. The night class I was taking online after I decided that I needed something, anything to occupy my time as I had always wanted a job, a career of some sort when I was growing up.

Even the fudge, I’d made it a few times for Davis when we first met, but after we got married, suddenly it wasn’t so great. It was too sweet, the texture was a bit off, he didn’t like the flavours I’d mixed together. Just little jabs at my abilities until I accepted that I wasn’t very good at it and stopped.

Pain aches in my palms, as my nails dig into the soft skin.

‘B.astard!’ I suddenly yell loudly, Mark swearing as he jerks the wheel in shock before righting us again. ‘He’s an absolute b.astard!’ Anger washes over me, an inferno of pain and rage mixing together in a swirling tide of emotions.

I feel the truck pull to the side, the tyres slowing beneath us as gravel kicks up on the underside until we grind to a stop. Hands grab my face, turning me toward the warm brown eyes I now know so well that I could pick them out of a line up.

‘Seona? Se? Talk to me Love, what’s going on?’ Mark’s worried voice echoes at the peripheral of my consciousness, as most of my attention is focused on the rage inside of me.

‘He’s a b.astard!’ I repeat, unable to articulate anything more than that.

‘I got that love, but who are we talking about?’ Mark’s soothing voice asks me, a thumb brushing across my cheek in a soft caress that helps ground me.

‘Davis’ I hiss bitterly, ‘Davis is a b.astard!’

‘I agree with you but . . ‘ the soldier hesitates, and I force my attention to him as he grimaces, ‘I’m a little shocked that you said it out loud.’

I can’t help the laugh that bubbles up at his shocked expression, honestly, I can’t blame the man though, I can count on one hand how many times I’ve used a curse word through out my life, and here I am just throwing them out like a pro in the last five minutes.

‘I can’t help it’ I mutter, glancing down at my hands that are shaking slightly. ‘The things he said, the things he . . he did to me! I thought I was doing what a wife should do, but I wasn’t!’ I meet Mark’s eyes again, seeing my own pain reflected back at me as I shake my head, pulling my nails from my palms so I can lift my hands and place them over his.

‘I wasn’t Mark’ I whisper, ‘no wife, no person! Should be asked to do what I did, to deal with what I went through.’

Mark nods, holding my gaze seriously, ‘no they shouldn’t love’ he tells me firmly, ‘no man or woman should treat someone they say they love like a f.ucking punching bag. You love someone, truly love them, they are your world, your happiness revolves around theirs, you would do anything, give anything to make them happy. Anyone who needs to make their partner cry to feel powerful is a weak ass coward.’

I stare deeply into the soldier’s eyes, seeing the truth of his words, he believes what he is saying, and I get it, I finally get it, THIS is what a man should be like. He shouldn’t be like Davis only taking what he wants at the detriment of everyone around him he should be a partner, giving as much as he takes, compromising without intimidating.

I flame ignites within me, one I haven’t felt in a long time, if at all, a burning realisation that I no longer want what I had. I don’t want to be scared anymore, or walk on eggshells, constantly worried about saying or doing the wrong thing. I don’t want to worry about a dish being left in the sink or not catching every speck of dirt with the vacuum cleaner, so much so that I’d get on my hands and knees to check.

My eyes widen as my lips part slightly, Mark staring at me silently as I look back at him.

‘I want to file for divorce’ I state softly, equal parts terror and determination welling inside of me. I’m a little shocked at myself as the words fall from my lips, but I know it’s true. I don’t want to be Seona Thomas anymore, I don’t want to live my life as the shell I’ve become. The thought of walking away scares me beyond belief, but as the words hang over us, I realise something else, the fear of leaving my husband for good isn’t as strong as the fear of going back, not anymore.