It’s bitterly cold on this late December night, and I hurry into my building and up to the apartment, quickly locking the door behind me.
It’s quiet inside. I peek in the door of Anita’s bedroom since the door is open and see Dre curled up under the covers, asleep with the soft glow of a bedside light illuminating his face.
I’m getting really attached to that kid. But the closer we get, the more I mourn the fact that I can’t have babies of my own.
“Mia?” Anita calls from inside the bathroom.
“Yeah, it’s me. I just got home.”
“I’m just getting out of the shower,” she says. “There’s mac and cheese on the stove if you’re hungry.”
“Thanks, but I’m good.”
I head into the kitchen to see if there are dishes to wash. Anita’s usually a dishwashing ninja—they barely even hit the sink before she’s scrubbing them clean—but occasionally I manage to wash some for her.
There’s a knock on the door before I even make it all the way to the sink. I go look through the peephole and see our neighbor Lilian from across the hall. She’s an older woman, and she looks upset.
“Anita, it’s Lilian,” she says in a rush. “Can I come in please?”
I unlock the deadbolt and open the door.
“Lilian, are you—”
My heart falls to my feet when I see Adam next to her. He wasn’t visible from the peephole. His dark eyes are bloodshot, which means he’s probably drunk. The blackness of them projects pure hatred towards me, and terror races through my veins.
“Mia, I’m sorry,” Lilian says tearfully. “He was going to hurt my dog if I didn’t do it.”
“Get out of here,” Adam says to her, his gaze on me. “And if you call anyone, I’ll come back and break that fucking dog’s neck.”
Lilian is weeping as she shuffles back to her apartment door. Adam lunges toward me, forcing me to take a few steps back. He slams the door and stalks forward, shoving me toward the kitchen so hard I fly across the floor and then land in a heap.
“You’re fucking Anton Petrov? Really, Mia?” His tone is loaded with fury.
“I work for him,” I say weakly.
The strong, confident Mia is nowhere to be found. When Adam gets angry, I revert back to the terrified woman he made me.
“Don’t fucking lie to me.” He draws back his foot and kicks me hard in the stomach. The force of it leaves me gasping for air. “I started following you after my attorney got the divorce papers. That fucker’s bankrolling you, isn’t he?”
He reaches down and grabs a handful of my hair, jerking my head up. “Isn’t he?” he yells in my face.
“No. Adam, stop,” I beg. “You’re hurting me.”
“We’re even then, bitch. You hurt me, too. You were nothing but a ghetto whore when I met you. Guess you never changed. But I’ll be damned if you get half my money. Not when you’re fucking around on me with Anton.”
Before I have any time to react, he climbs on top of me, his weight pinning me to the floor. He’s straddling my chest and I can hardly breathe.
“Stop,” I cry, trying to push him off me with flailing arms.
He’s so strong, though. It’s no use. I’ve never been so scared in my life as I am right then, when Adam wraps his hands around my neck and starts to squeeze.
“You fucking whore.” His voice is a calm rage as he tightens his hold.
I can’t breathe. I’m getting lightheaded already, the fear that I’m going to die only making it worse. I’m kicking my legs and hitting him with my hands, but nothing happens. Adam’s hands are locked around my throat and I know he won’t let go until I’m dead.
I feel a sudden warmth in my pants as I lose control of my bladder. The urge to breathe is so overwhelming, but I can’t get any air in my throat.
Fuck.
I think of my grandpa. Who will take care of him now?
Grabbing hold of Adam’s shirt, I try to pull on it, but my strength is fading. I lose my grip on the shirt’s collar just as a cracking noise sounds.
The pressure on my neck is gone immediately and my throat burns as I try to inhale. Adam falls off me like a sack of bricks, dropping to the floor. Anita is standing behind him with a wooden bat. She looks like a baseball player who just took a mighty swing—because she did, at Adam’s head.
“Breathe slowly, Mia,” she says. “You’re okay.”
Air fills my lungs, but it doesn’t seem like enough. I gasp, trying to get more in.
“Slowly,” Anita says. “Go lock yourself in the bedroom with Dre ‘til the police get here. I already called them.”
I shake my head and manage to stand up, tears blurring my vision as I reach for the bat.
“No, honey,” Anita says softly. “You don’t want to do that.”
I do. I want to beat Adam’s unconscious body so hard he’ll never wake up. But Anita is refusing to give up the bat.
Instead, I walk to the butcher block of knives on the counter and pull one out. My throat still burns and my stomach aches, but I’ve got it in me—the hatred that drives people to do bad things. I feel it now, in this moment, as I look at Adam’s body on the floor.
“Mia, look at me,” Anita orders.
I turn to face her, my hand wrapped around the handle of the gleaming silver knife.
“You don’t want to do this,” she says. “He’s unconscious and the police are on their way. If he wakes up before they get here, I’m gonna knock his ass right back out again. He will be arrested. You’re safe now. Put down the knife and go into my bedroom.”
Tears fall to my cheeks.
“It’s me or him,” I say. “He was gonna kill me.”
“And he’ll go to jail for it. You don’t want to end up in jail, too.”
I loosen my hold on the knife. “But Anita, if you hadn’t been here…”
“I know, baby. This motherfucker’s a cold-blooded murderer. But you’re not. Let the police handle him.”
“Mama?” Dre calls from the bedroom.
“It’s okay,” Anita calls back. She nods toward the bedroom. “Go, get in there.”
Numb, I nod and set the knife on the counter, then walk back to my bedroom. Mechanically, I change into dry underwear and pants, then go into Anita’s room. I crawl into bed next to Dre and hold back my urge to sob, because I don’t want to scare him.
“Go back to sleep,” I say softly.
He’s out within a minute. I slide out of bed then to go get my phone, and I text Anton.
Me: I’m not okay. I need you.
Chapter Eighteen
Anton
* * *
I’m about to jump out of my skin by the time I make it to the stairs in Mia’s building. I take them two at a time, knocking on the door as soon as I get to it and then knocking again three seconds later.
“Mia,” I say, laying a palm on the door. “Are you here?”
After the text saying she needed me, she texted her apartment number. She didn’t respond to any of my frantic messages after that.
Finally, the door opens, but it’s Anita on the other side, her expression sober. She steps aside to let me in and when I walk into the small living room, I see Mia sitting in a chair in the corner, bent over with her forearms on her thighs.
“Is she okay?” I ask Anita, not giving her time to answer before I rush to Mia’s side.
I drop to the floor on my knees, trying to see her face.
“Are you okay? What happened?”
Anita disappears into a back room as Mia raises her face to look at me.
“Adam.”
Her neck has dark bruises encircling it. My urge to break something—preferably him—is overwhelming.
“Where is he?” I ask.
I’ll do so much more than just punch him. This goes beyond anything I imagined he was capable of. He choked Mia. I’ll crush his bones. Break his fucking nose. Knock every one of his teeth out.
“The police took him,” she says num
bly.
“Tell me what happened.”
I cup her face in my hands and look into her eyes, trying to reach her. I know she sees me, but the trauma seems to have made her retreat into herself.
“I got home,” she starts in a soft tone. “I locked the door. I went to check on Dre. And then my neighbor Lilian knocked on the door. I could tell something was wrong, but…I thought something was wrong with her, you know?”
“So she knocked on the door, then what?”
She wraps her arms around herself. I take off my coat and wrap it around her.
“I opened the door. That was stupid, wasn’t it?”
“No. You opened the door, and your neighbor Lilian was there?”
Mia nods. “And then I saw Adam. He told her he’d hurt her dog if she didn’t knock on my door.”
“Jesus.”
“He pushed his way in, and…” She shakes her head. “He was following me. He knew I was at your place, and…”
“Fuck. Mia, I’m so sorry.”
“He got the divorce papers and he accused me of fucking you.” She looks at me blankly. “But I didn’t. I wouldn’t cheat.”
“I know, sweetheart.” I rub her upper arms. “I know. It’s okay.”
“He kicked me. He pushed me down and kicked me in the stomach. And then he got on top of me and…I couldn’t breathe.” Tears fill her eyes. “I thought he was going to kill me. He was squeezing my throat and I thought I was going to die right there on the kitchen floor.”
I lean my forehead against hers. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. I swear to you, I’ll make him wish he never even thought of coming here.”
“He was going to kill me,” she says softly. “He said I’m a ghetto whore and he would have killed me, but Anita knocked him out with a baseball bat.”
I’ve never felt this kind of anger before. It’s a helpless, all-consuming rage. If I could find Adam right now, I could easily kill him with my bare hands.
“Thank God she was here.” I slide my arms around Mia and hold her close.
The tears she cries against my neck and the steady thump of her heart reassure me she’s still here. Still alive. She’s safe now.
“He’s staying in jail,” she says.
“He better fucking hope so. Jail’s the only safe place for him, because I can’t get to him there.”
“Anton?”
“Hmm?”
Mia’s soft sigh is warm against my skin. “He was right. I am a ghetto whore.”
“Don’t say that. Don’t you ever say that again. Adam’s a fucked up piece of shit. He just says things to hurt you.”
She squeezes me a little tighter. “What did I ever see in him? How did I not know it would end up like this?”
“You couldn’t have known, Mia. I’ve spent lots of time with Adam; I thought I knew him. And I never would have thought he could do this.”
“I…I…wanted to kill him. I grabbed a knife and I just wanted to stab him a thousand times so I never have to feel this way again.”
“I know.” I rub a palm over her back. “I want to do the same.”
“Maybe I’ll crawl into bed and never leave.”
“Can I come visit you?”
She gives me a tiny hum of amusement. “Sure.”
I lean back and look into her eyes. “Let’s get you to the hospital to get checked out.”
“I’m okay,” she insists. “I told the police I didn’t want to go.”
“We’re going.” I stand up and reach for her hand.
“I’m fine, Anton. Honestly. I’m a Southside girl; I’ve gotten my ass beat a time or two.”
“I just want to get the all clear. I can call the team doctor and ask him to meet us at the hospital so you don’t have to wait.”
She shakes her head adamantly. “I don’t want to.”
“I get it, but you need to. We need to have your injuries documented. Once the media gets wind of this, Adam’s gonna get shit-canned. You need to stand up and get what’s yours while you can, and this will help.”
I take out my phone and text Kevin, Mia’s attorney, to let him know what’s up. He writes back immediately.
“Kevin says we have to go,” I tell Mia.
“Dammit, who put you in charge, anyway?” she snaps. “You didn’t even ask me if you could tell him.”
“This ends right now,” I tell her, crossing my arms over my chest. “You’ve got a chance to nail his ass to the wall, and you’re taking it. I’ll fucking carry you kicking and screaming to the hospital if I have to.”
She just looks at me for a second before bursting into tears. Covering her face with her hands, she sobs until her shoulders are shaking.
“I know,” I say softly, getting back to my knees on the floor in front of her. “I know this is hard, but—”
“No you don’t.” She takes her hands away from her face, her eyes wide and her cheeks wet with tears. “You don’t know, Anton, because you’re strong. You take no shit. But this is just another time I fell fucking victim to Adam. I don’t want to go to a hospital and have pictures taken of the bruises on my body. I’m so…ashamed.” She weeps again. “He treats me like a worthless piece of shit and it makes me feel like a worthless piece of shit. He hurts me over and over, and every time, he gets away with it and I end up crying and ashamed.”
I put my hands on her thighs. “He’s not getting away with it this time.”
“I wanted to fight back so bad, Anton. So fucking bad. I wanted to put bruises on his skin. I wanted to make him hurt. Show him how it feels.”
“You’re gonna hurt him in a different way. You’re upset and I get that, so let me help you. We need to do this, Mia. I’ll be with you every second we’re there.”
She sighs heavily and nods. I tell Anita we’re leaving and get Mia’s coat. And in the quiet moments on the drive to the hospital, when she’s silently staring out the window and hardly moving, I think about her words and vow to do what she couldn’t.
I’ll bruise him back. I’ll make him hurt. I’ll show him how it feels. And then some.
Chapter Nineteen
Mia
* * *
I’m sweating through my nightshirt when I wake up at 4:00 a.m. three days after the attack. I shove the down comforter in Anton’s guest room aside and go into the kitchen for some water.
My heartbeat is just now returning to its normal pace after I dreamed about Adam breaking into Anita’s apartment with a butcher knife, telling me he was going to finish the job he started.
I sit down on the couch with my water and click the remote to turn on ESPN, hoping to catch hockey highlights. Dix and I watched Anton’s game last night, but I’d like to see replays of the two goals he scored. One was a shot across the ice that sent the crowd to its feet.
Adam was suspended from the team, and Anton told me he’s likely to be released. He’s out on bond, but I got a restraining order against him.
Not that it’ll stop him from coming after me if he wants to, but he won’t be able to get to me now. I’m staying at Anton’s apartment, and he hired around the clock security to sit in the hallway outside his front door.
He also offered to pay for Anita and Dre to stay at a hotel, but she declined. She carries her bat with her every time she leaves the apartment now.
Dix will be up in a couple hours, if not sooner. He went to bed right after the game ended last night. Since Anton told him what happened, he’s been taking it easy on me. No complaining or excessive swearing. I miss the old Dix and hope he doesn’t plan to keep this up for long.
Hockey highlights aren’t on, and since it’s winter break, I don’t even have any studying to do. I’ve gone from falling into bed after shifts at the bar and waking up with drool on my pillow and a headache from not sleeping enough to not having anything to do.
I go into the kitchen and dig through the fridge and pantry for ingredients to make my grandma’s banana muffins. They were my favorite smell to wake up to as a kid.
Dix eats two muffins after he wakes up, commenting on how nice the sunrise is as he takes a sip of coffee.
“I’m fine, you know,” I say in a cross tone.
“What’s that s’posed to mean. I never said you weren’t.”
I shake my head as I wipe down the table. “You’ve been super nice to me since the other night. I don’t want you feeling sorry for me.”
“I don’t feel sorry for you.”
“What’s with you, then? You haven’t bitched about my cooking once. You haven’t called the people who make your word search books cocksuckers or asked me to get you booze.”
Dix rolls his eyes. “You never do it anyway so why would I keep asking?”
“Because that’s you. I’m not some damsel in distress, you know. Getting choked by my soon to be ex-husband sucks, but I’ve taken my knocks before. Maria Pelini busted up my face real good when her boyfriend dumped her to ask me out sophomore year.”
Dix’s eyes soften. “Did you know I was once married, Mia?”
“No.” I’m taken aback by this news.
“Yeah.” He smiles sadly. “Her name was Eileen. I loved her more than anything. We got married a couple weeks before I had to ship out with my military platoon, and those weeks were the happiest time of my life.”
I sit back down in my chair at the table, focusing all my attention on Dix. “I didn’t know you were in the military. What happened?”
He looks out the window at the lake. “Back then I would’ve told you we just grew apart while I was away. But the truth is, war changed me. I came back a cynical man. Eileen did everything she could to get things back to the way they were before I left, but…” He shakes his head.
“I’m sorry.”
Dix clears his throat and turns back to me. “I can be a mean bastard, but I never would’ve laid a hand on Eileen. Or any other woman.”
“Not all men are so noble,” I say sadly.
Dix lays his good forearm on the kitchen table as he speaks. “Actually, most of us are. You got paired up with a bad fuckin’ egg, Mia.”
Anton Page 11