Dangerous Attraction
The thought of marrying a man three times her age made Melody's stomach churn. She would do anything for her father, but this felt like a fate worse than death.
Until the urgency of saving him leaves her with no other option.
Each year, the lies and abuse chip away at her. No one knows the horrors that unfold behind those closed doors—her silent screams, the desperate struggles, the escalating punishments that follow each failed escape attempt.
Until Rader Cantrel comes home. There once was a time when she had a crush on him, but that was long ago.
***
Coming home stirs a lot of memories for Rader. His parents’ home still looks the same. He hasn’t changed a thing since the car crash that stole their lives.
But he doesn’t expect little Melody Albright to be all grown up and deliciously tempting. Married women are off limits, though, especially when they’re married to his sworn enemy.
Until he recognizes the fear in her eyes.
The deeper he digs, the more secrets and plots begin to unravel, revealing long-hidden truths and dangerous games.
What Rader uncovers could bring a lot of important people down, and Melody will be the key that unlocks the truth.
If he can keep her safe.
Chapter One
Melody
The school bus doors hissed open, and Melody quickly stepped out, the smell of diesel fuel lingering in the air. Hugging her books, she kept her head down. Chad was sitting in the fourth seat, next to the window. She hated when he rode the bus home.
He was such a bully.
“Hey Melody, go to the movies with me this weekend. I’ll even pay because you probably don’t have any money. Your folks are too damned poor. I’ll make sure you have a great time.” He guffawed and a couple of the other boys who usually hung out with him laughed, too.
“Shut up, Chad,” she heard Jordon defend her and smiled a little. Her sometime savior. They were friends. That’s all they would ever be, but it was nice to know she had one.
But Chad was something else altogether. She just bet he would show her a good time. He was a creep. Years ago, she'd discovered that bullies thrived on reactions, so she'd found it smarter to simply ignore their words and actions. That’s what she did this time, too.
Chad had moved to Faith, Texas, in the fifth grade. At the time, she’d been in the third. Now, she was in the tenth, and he was a year ahead of her. Chad should’ve already graduated. He’d been held back a year. He was lazy and obnoxious, besides being a bully. She tried to avoid him as much as possible.
With a sharp kick, she sent a loose rock skittering down the dusty road, its edges catching the sunlight as it tumbled away. It was a hot, dusty afternoon. Sweat ran down the valley between her breasts. She wiggled her shoulders. Not that it helped.
Maybe she would sneak off and go swimming in the river that ran through the Cantrel property. It was far enough at the back no one would know. She sighed. It was a beautiful spot. There was one area where the river widened and dipped down, creating a small waterfall and swimming hole.
She looked up as she passed the Cantrel place. The house sat at the end of the driveway. A one-story with pale yellow siding, a long front porch, and the memory of worn wooden rockers. Lush, vibrant green plants that had once spilled over the side of the white railing. Ms. Cantrel had a green thumb and could grow anything. Rader had lived there with his parents. He was the Cantrel’s only child.
It had been a hot day like today when she first saw him. She hadn’t been that old. Even back then, he made her mouth water. She’d felt a stirring inside her even as young as she was. She would imagine a bunch of girls had.
He was tall and muscular, with broad shoulders and a delicious tan from being outside working in the unforgiving Texas sun. He always wore his hair a little too long. Like he was too busy to go to the barbershop. Or he could’ve wanted to give the people in town something to talk about—which wasn’t that hard to do. People here loved their gossip.
In his senior year, there was an accident that killed his parents. She’d heard Mr. Temple wanted to buy the property, but gossip was, Rader refused to sell. He joined the military, but kept the place. Occasionally, she would hear whispers he was back in town, but she never saw him again. Not that she blamed him for staying away as much as possible. As soon as she finished high school, she was leaving.
Staying here meant you got a job as a waitress in one of the restaurants, or in the sewing factory that Thurman Temple owned. Neither one appealed to her. Besides, she’d heard the rumors about Thurman. He was ancient. At least fifty, but he still hit on the women who worked for him. It didn’t matter how old they were.
A couple of times, he tried flirting with her, but she turned him off quick enough. She wanted nothing to do with him. Or any man, for that matter. She would not end up like Amy. She had to leave school last month. Her growing belly made it impossible to hide her pregnancy any longer. There was speculation about who the father was, but no one knew for sure.
That’s all this town was good for, rumors and gossip.
She turned and walked up the driveway to their home. It wasn’t much, but there were about twenty acres. At the back of the property was a stand of trees. When it would get too hot in the house in the summer, she liked to sit under the trees and read. That was her one passion, books.
The closer she got to the house, the more she frowned. Papa was strapping down a bunch of boxes in the back of their old gray pickup. The pickup truck was mostly rust, the paint peeling and faded, with a dented and rusty back fender. He’d straightened it with a crowbar so the metal wouldn’t rub against the tire. The glass was missing from one of the side windows in the back. Papa had covered it with plastic and duct taped it. Chad hadn’t lied when he said they were poor.
Why were boxes in the backseat? That’s where she usually sat. From the looks of it, all the backseat was full. As she approached, he looked up. Melody thought she saw a trace of worry in his expression, but it quickly changed to a wide smile. Something was going on and she had a bad feeling.
“What’s happening?”
“Mr. Temple finally made an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
“You’re selling the place?” It had been in their family since her great-grandfather bought it. “But I only have another month of school before summer vacation.”
Her mother came to the door, her hands twisting in the worn fabric of her faded blue apron. She only did that when she was nervous about something. Dread washed over Melody. She glanced up as the sun slipped behind a cloud. Another bad omen?
“You should talk to your mother,” her father said.
Melody started toward the house, looking to her mother for an explanation. “What’s going on?”
“It’s a really good offer,” her mother said.
“Where are we moving?”
Her mother wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Let’s go into the house so we can talk about it.” Before Melody could object, her mother hurried back inside. “You’ll see. It’s going to be okay.”
“Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like what you’re about to tell me?”
Her mother sat on the sofa, then patted the cushion beside her. Melody set her books on the end table and reluctantly joined her.
“Mr. Temple’s offer was incredibly generous. We can move to Florida. You know how we’ve always wanted to be close to the ocean, and it’s so pretty there. The water is blue. Did I ever tell you that’s where I grew up? It’s so much better than this dirty, dusty town.”
“Except there doesn’t look to be any room for me in the pickup. The backseat is full of boxes.” Her feeling of dread grew.
“Well, you see, that’s part of the deal we made. Mr. Temple has always been secretly in love with you.”
Melody jumped to her feet. “No! I don’t care how good an offer he made. If I’m included in it, count me out.”
“It’s not like that, baby. You see, we just found out that your father is dying.” She drew in a ragged breath, tears filling her eyes, then spilling down her cheeks.
The room began to spin. “What?” No matter how bad her parents were sometimes, she loved them. “How come I’m hearing about this for the first time?”
“We didn’t want you to worry. It’s your father’s lungs. The air here is too dry and dusty, and he needs to be in a damp climate. It wasn’t our choice. Mr. Temple must’ve heard about it from the doctor or something. He only wants to help.”
She crossed her arms in front of her. “You sold me to him?”
“No, it wasn’t like that. He wants to marry you. Don’t you see? You’ll get to live in a great big house and you’ll never want for anything. He said he would worship the ground you walked on. You know, treat you like a princess.”
“You mean as another one of his prized possessions? Have you ever considered the fact that I’m only sixteen, and he's at least fifty, a man old enough to be my father? Older than my father! It’s wrong! I don’t want to get married. I’m too young. I want to go to college in a couple of years.”
“That’s why this is perfect. He said if you still wanted to go to college when you turn eighteen, and things don’t work out with him, he’ll set you free. He said he would pay for all of your college, plus room and board. It’s only two years of your life, Melody. It’s the rest of your father’s. I can’t live without him.”
She raised her chin and glared at her mother. “And what about high school?”
“You can either take online courses or get a GED. That’s all I’ve ever had.”
She wanted to say yes, and look how well you’ve done, but she bit her tongue.
The door squeaked opened and her father came inside. She studied him for a moment. He looked older than his forty-one years, his hair graying at the temples, his eyes deep-set and shadowed. She’d always been her father’s baby girl. They’d gone fishing together. He taught her everything he knew about stringing a line.
About ten years ago, he started having problems breathing and had to quit his job at the feed mill. That’s when all the trouble started. He drank, and he would get angry for no reason.
Melody’s eyes burned with unshed tears. Remember the good times, she told herself. She didn’t want him to die. Her father was looking at her mother. They were silently communicating. They’d been doing it for as long as she could remember. In the beginning, she felt left out, but it didn’t really bother her anymore.
His shoulders slumped, as though he’d come to a decision. “This is wrong. You would be giving up two years of your life. I’m going to call Mr. Temple and tell him the deal is off.”
The look of defeat on his face broke her heart. She ran to him and put her arms around his waist. He was so thin. Why hadn’t she noticed him losing weight? Two years wasn’t that long. She could stay with Mr. Temple for that length of time, then go to college.
Her father broke away from her and reached into his pocket for his phone.
“No, I’ll do it,” she quickly told him. “There…there might even be a nice college in Florida that I can attend in a couple of years.”
She sucked in her bottom lip when it trembled.
He didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure?”
“I only need to pack my things.” Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She sniffed, forcing them back.
“He said you wouldn’t need any of your clothes,” her mother told her. “He’s going to buy you all new ones.”
Of course he was. Mr. Temple wouldn’t want his wife to be dressed in clothes that came from a thrift store.
“When do I leave?”
“He’s sending a car over later this evening. The wedding will be at his house tonight and we’ll leave from there. He sent a dress and other things for you to wear. I hung it in your closet. You’ll look like a princess.”
A sickening lurch, as if her heart had plummeted to her feet, stole her breath. A few hours didn’t give her much time to prepare herself mentally. But she could do this. Her father’s life depended on it. She nodded and walked to her room. God, this wasn’t happening. The tears began to fall as she shut the bedroom door behind her. She didn’t even try to stop them this time.
She would lose her virginity tonight. Her innocence would be stolen. She sat down on the side of the bed and hugged her middle. Oh, God, she needed a miracle. When nothing happened, a bitter laugh escaped past her lips. She’d never had a miracle.
Why would she think God would hear her now?
She angrily brushed away her tears. Her father would be adding years to his life, each sunrise a chance to make new memories. She would do it for them. Abruptly, she came to her feet, going to the closet and opening the door. A simple, elegant white wedding dress, heavy with the weight of its intricate beading, hung in the closet on a hangar covered with white silk fabric. Beside it was a veil on another hanger. There was a shoebox on the floor. She reached down and picked it up. Inside was a pair of white heels.
There was a tentative knock on her door. Her mother didn’t wait for her to answer, but opened it. “I have a bath drawn. You should probably start getting ready.”
Melody set the box on the bed and walked to the bathroom. She didn’t say a word. Each movement was slow and deliberate as she undressed, the cool porcelain of the clawfoot tub a stark contrast to her skin.
The scent of lavender bath salts filled the air. Mr. Temple must have sent them with the clothes. Her mother would never have splurged on something this extravagant.
By the time she finished her bath, her skin was silky soft. Her mother rubbed lotion into her skin. The same lavender scent. There were white silk panties and a matching lacy white bra. A garter belt and hose. Her mother carefully lowered the dress over her head. The hem didn’t quite touch the floor.
Her mother didn’t speak as she led her back to the bedroom and had her sit at the small vanity. Her birthday present when she turned ten. The white paint on the vanity was chipped, even when her father first brought it home, already showing years of wear and tear. It came from the thrift store, but she hadn’t cared. To her, it was beautiful.
She stared at her reflection, but felt nothing but pity for the girl staring back at her. Even when her mother carefully arranged her deep brown hair, pulling it up and letting curls frame her face, she remained silent. The veil came next and the heels before she stood.
Her mother dabbed at her eyes. “I always knew you would make a beautiful bride.”
There was a knock on the bedroom door. Her mother said come in. Her father poked his head inside, then stopped, mouth dropping open.
“My God, you're beautiful.”
“Was there something else?” her mother asked.
He cleared his throat. “The car is here. We don’t want to keep the…groom…waiting.”
Melody noticed how he’d stumbled over the word. She rose and left the room, walking past him, the floorboards creaking softly beneath her feet. She didn’t stop until she was beside the black car. The driver held the door open.
That’s the only time she hesitated. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. She should turn and run. Screw them all.
“We’ll meet you there,” her father’s words broke through her thoughts.
She drew in a breath and climbed into the car. The ride should’ve taken longer—like forever—but it soon stopped in the circular driveway. The sun was setting, and the sky was ablaze with color as countless up lights flickered to life.
In the heart of a lush, grassy expanse, a three-tiered fountain gurgled and bubbled, each tier cascading into the next with a gentle splash. When the driver opened the door, she got out. The car door closed with a soft click, and she turned to take in the imposing two-story mansion, its silent windows staring back at her. An icy wave of anxiety washed over her, sending a shiver down her spine and a knot to her stomach.
Her parents pulled up behind the black car. As her dad shut off the engine, the motor coughed and sputtered, then fell silent with a final wheeze. She briefly wondered if her parents would even make it to Florida before the pickup gave up and died forever.
The door opened as she and her parents trudged up the steps. The maid's eyes met hers, then darted away, a faint rose blooming on her cheeks. She opened the door wide enough for them to enter.
“They’re waiting in Mr. Temple’s study. That’s where the wedding will take place.” After closing the door behind them, she stepped in front. “It’s right this way.”
A heavy darkness filled the mansion's interior. Nausea built inside her as she looked around at what would become her new home. Every surface was crowded with western sculptures. A chair sat beside a table, the seat covered in a black and white cowhide. A chandelier of intricately carved deer antlers hung above her, casting strange shadows on the walls.
Run! Her brain screamed. She started to turn but looked up and saw her father’s lined, haggard face. Their gazes locked.
“You don’t have to do this, baby girl. We can leave right now.”
She closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath. When she opened them again, a whisper of a smile touched her lips. “It’s okay.
Just think, Mr. Temple is going to pay for my college. Two years will go by so fast I won’t even notice.”
“They’re waiting,” the maid spoke, wringing her hands together.
Melody nodded, and they continued down the hall.
As soon as she saw Mr. Temple, she stopped, her stomach churning. Even in the dark suit, his paunch strained against the fabric.
The gray in his hair, slicked back with what she guessed was expensive hair oil, was noticeable. He was short. Only about five feet, eight inches with beefy hands.
No, she couldn’t do this after all.
Her mother must’ve guessed her intentions, because a fierce grip on Melody’s elbow abruptly stopped her. The force of her mother's nails digging into her tender flesh brought Melody back to the reality of the situation.
“My dearest girl,” Mr. Temple said as he walked to where she stood. “I’ve waited a long time for this.” He took her hands in his.
His palms were clammy. When she tried to pull away, his grip tightened, fingers digging into her arm as he hauled her forward with surprising strength.
“We’re ready,” Mr. Temple told the pastor, who looked nervous and unsure.
The pastor cleared his throat. It was all a blur to Melody. The next thing she knew, they were pronounced man and wife. For a brief moment, his moist lips brushed hers. Her parents hugged and kissed her before they left. The pastor mumbled something about them having a blessed life and rushed out the door right behind them. The maid led her upstairs and down to the biggest bedroom she’d ever seen.
Melody trembled. This wasn’t happening. It was all a horrible dream.
The maid left.
Melody frantically looked around for a way to escape. The door opened, and Thurman came inside.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered.
“You can, and you will.” His words were rough, harsh, like sandpaper scraping against stone. “I bought their place, and you. I’ll do whatever the hell I want.”
“I’m a virgin.”
He snorted. “Don’t you think I don’t already know that? I would never marry used goods.” He walked to where she stood, moved behind her, and jerked the zipper down.
With a gasp, she jumped, clutching her dress, and scrambled away. He followed, slapping her hard across the face. Tears pooled in her eyes. With one yank from his fat hand, the gown ripped, beads flying in all directions before the tattered dress dropped to the floor. When she tried to fight him, he slapped her again and again until she was whimpering.
Oh, God.
Daddy, where are you?
Mommy?
No, this wasn’t happening. She closed her eyes, hoping the pain would stop.
When he finished with her, she curled on her side, hugging the remnants of her clothes to her bruised and beaten body.
“Your room is next to mine. There’s a door between them. You can leave that way,” he told her. “You should understand this now. When I want to use your body, I will. Whatever I want, you will give me. In return, you’ll have the best of everything. But don’t think you can run away. You belong to me, and I’ll never let you go. No matter where you run, I’d find you. Your punishment will be severe. Now leave me. It has been a long day and I’m tired.”
He stripped off the rest of his clothes and crawled into bed as she dragged herself up from the floor. She stumbled to the room that would now be her bedroom. There was a bathroom. She went inside, turned on the light, then the water in the shower.
After she stepped beneath the spray, the tears came.