But she didn’t finish because at that moment they heard a loud crash coming from the study.
Belle’s heart dropped to her feet then those feet, frozen for a split second, ran toward the study.
Cassandra was at her heels.
When Belle hit the room, Jack was facing down Olive who looked pale.
Jack, on the other hand, looked furious.
No, Belle thought, shrinking back so much she bumped into Cassandra, he looked murderous.
And he was talking.
Or, more to the point, thundering.
“… fucking report!”
“I put it on your desk weeks ago,” Olive replied.
Jack lifted a newspaper and threw it on his desk with such force it slid across, taking everything with it in its path.
“With that?” Jack roared.
“With that, yes, Jack,” Olive sounded shocked and upset and maybe a little scared.
Belle was more than a little scared at Jack’s fury, the intensity of which she would have never imagined he was capable.
And this made Belle want to run.
Unfortunately Cassandra was the strong sort of woman and she probably never ran from anything.
Therefore she called attention to their presence in the room by asking, “What’s up?”
Jack turned to them, his eyes zeroed in on Belle and they narrowed ominously.
Thoughts of running a fleeting memory, Belle froze in terror under his heated stare.
“You were married?” he asked. He was no longer roaring, his voice was low, menacing, showing his fury in a vastly more terrifying way.
His question made every cell in Belle’s body petrify.
“What’s going on?” Joy entered the room.
Jack ignored his mother and demanded, “Belle, I asked you a question.”
With great effort, she cleared her throat but even doing so, her voice was breathy when she replied, “Yes.”
She barely finished the sibilant ending of her word when Jack clipped, his tone no less infuriated, “He beat you.”
Joy gasped and Cassandra made a strangled noise.
He’d found out.
Oh God, he’d found out!
Belle couldn’t answer, she just nodded.
“For years, he beat you?” Jack pushed, his eyes spearing Belle, his words feeding his own rage.
“How…” Belle’s voice hitched but she persevered, “How did you find out?”
“Well you sure as hell didn’t tell me, poppet,” he bit out.
“Jack!” Joy snapped.
Jack ignored his mother again and answered Belle, “The papers. Front page. With photos. Would you like to see?”
The newspapers. Of course, the stupid, stupid newspapers.
“N… no,” Belle stammered, her eyes glued to Jack.
“No, I suggest you don’t,” Jack agreed immediately.
“Maybe you should calm down, mate,” Cassandra advised softly but firmly.
Jack ignored her too, his eyes searing into Belle. She felt their heat like laser beams and he repeated, “He beat you?”
“Jack –” Belle whispered.
“He raised his hand to you?” Jack didn’t let it go.
“Jack, darling, don’t –” Joy tried to soothe, moving forward.
Jack only had eyes for Belle, his questions stopped and this time he made a statement. “He hurt you.”
Belle just stood frozen to the spot and stared at him.
“Again and again.” Jack’s voice was cutting and she knew it. She knew. If he found out he’d think she was weak and he’d judge her for it and she’d been right. “Come here, Belle,” Jack suddenly ground out and when Belle stood unmoving, Jack shouted, “Come f**king here!”
“Jack, darling, calm down,” Joy demanded, stepping in front of Belle.
“Get out of her way, Mum,” Jack ordered but Joy shook her head and Jack threatened, “I won’t ask again.”
“What’s happening?” Rachel whispered as she walked in the room.
“Take Belle out of here,” Cassandra said urgently.
“Belle, get over here!” Jack commanded, his voice close to being back to a roar.
“What’s on earth is happening?” Rachel whispered, this time fear threading her voice.
Cassandra moved behind Joy, shielding Belle, repeating, “Rachel, get her out of here.”
Something about Cassandra’s words caused something in Belle’s brain to fire and finally the demand from her brain reached her feet, she turned and she ran.
She got ten feet down the hall before she was caught at the waist by a strong arm and then she was going back.
Fear sounded in a muffled way deep in her throat as Jack backed her against the wall and caged her with his body.
She winced and braced, waiting for it to happen, the blows, the slaps, the punches, the pain.
But instead, his hands came to her head, sliding down her hair to her neck, over hers shoulders, down her back and he pulled her to his hard body, his arms wrapping around her tight.
“He hurt you.” Jack’s voice was no longer angry.
There wasn’t a shred of fury in it.
Instead, it was tortured.
Slowly, Belle’s head tilted back and she looked at his face.
It was ravaged.
“Again and again,” Jack’s voice throbbed.
Her heart clutched.
“Jack –” she whispered.
“Again and again.”
“Jack, stop it.”
His hands retraced their path up her back, her shoulders, her neck to frame her face.
“Again and again,” he whispered.
Tears filled her eyes and spilled over. “Please, stop it.”
“I’ll kill him.”
“Jack, stop.”
“I’ll f**king kill him.”
“Jack, please.”
Jack’s neck bent, his forehead touched hers and Belle watched his eyes close as he murmured, “He hurt you.”
“It’s over,” she whispered.
His eyes opened but he didn’t lift his head even as both his thumbs slid along the wetness at her cheekbones.
“Your Dad thought I hurt you,” he said softly.
“He didn’t mean anything by it,” Belle assured him quietly. “They’re protective of me now.”
His head moved a scant inch away. “Why didn’t you tell me, poppet?”
She swallowed and admitted, “I didn’t want you to think badly of me.”
He shook his head and a humourless smile touched his mouth before he said, “You should have told me.”
“I’m sorry,” she said in a barely there voice then, frightened out of her mind but needing to know more than needing to give into her fear, she asked, “Are you angry with me?”