Why? Why? Why?
Maybe he’s right. Maybe I am useless. Stupid. Worthless.
Maybe no one cares, not even Dominic, but right now he’s my only option. I pull the phone from my pocket, cringing at the crack on the front as I flip it open and call the only number stored on it.
“Avery?”
I drag in a breath about to ask for help when Carl appears in the doorway, hands tucked in the pockets of his slacks as he comes closer.
“Put the phone down.”
Carl’s whacks the phone out of my grasp before his hand molds to the curve of my neck, guiding me out to the bedroom silently.
“You always got to fucking ruin everything,” he says with disgust, pushing me back onto the ottoman at the bottom of Iris’s bed.
My awkward fall lands me on the floor. My mouth connects with the leg of the furniture, and all I can taste is the metallic tang of my blood as it seeps into my mouth and dribbles down my chin.
“All you had to do was be a good little wife…a good mother… I didn’t want much.”
His foot connects with my side. Again and again, the hard soles force the air from my lungs, busting down the floodgates behind my eyes.
All I can do is curl up as he falls to his knees in front of me. A hand knots in my hair while the other squeezes around my throat, dragging up to my jaw as he spits words that ring in my muffled ears. “Why do you have to make me do this?”
I can only hold his blurred stare.
Why did I stay?
Silence freezes the stagnant air. My bladder threatens to go, my stomach turns, and all my extremities fuzz.
Why is he silent? I ask myself just as he chuckles darkly.
“We’re not quitters, are we, Avery?” The low rumble of his voice is soft. “Quitting is losing. I don’t lose. Never have, never will.”
The hand on my face squeezes, the tip of his thumb pressing to my sore flesh.
“I didn’t marry a whore, did I, Avery?” He pats my face roughly. “You ever talk to him again and I’ll kill you.”
His words are silk, smooth and easy, but the threat is undeniably real. He means it. The glint in his eyes assures me that he’ll follow through. And if it wasn’t for the fact that I have Iris to think about, I would scream at him to do it.
Carl stands and drags me to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. It takes me too long to get back up onto my feet and show Iris that I’m okay. She’s in a full-blown panic when I try to calm her down.
I manage to get her to stop crying in time to hear the door of the office down the hall slam closed.
It’s now or never. If I don’t get us out of here now, I don’t know what will happen.
“We’ve got to be quiet, okay?” I take her little hand in mine; it feels so small. Smaller than I realized as we walk through the closet, picking up her bag on the way out.
Blood is still trickling down my chin, and at this point I’m certain that the only thing keeping me going is adrenaline. The only thing silencing me is fear and sheer determination to get us out of here.
I don’t bother searching for my car key. Instead, I grab the bowl as I pull the door open slowly. My heart pounds mercilessly in my chest when the doorbell rings, alerting us of our movement.
“Come on, baby!” I rush to my car, helping Iris into her car seat. “Buckle up, okay?”
I’m still clutching the bowl as Carl comes running up the side of the house, straight at me, while I get into the car as quickly as I can and lock the doors. Keys spill onto the passenger seat as I throw the bowl and start the engine.
“Get out!” He pounds on the window hard enough that it cracks as I start to reverse out of the drive. “I’m going to slit your fucking throat.”
That’s the last thing I hear as I hit the gas, watching him fade into the night behind us.
He can’t kill me if he can’t find us.
Chapter Five
GARRETT
I blink my eyes open at the sound of my phone vibrating on my bedside table. It’s still dark, and it doesn’t feel like I’ve been asleep for long.
“Someone better be dying!” I answer the phone to Mark.
It’s been a longest fucking day, and I promised Jo I’d fix the fencing tomorrow.
“You need to come to the house. Now!”
I’m jumping from my bed before he has a chance to explain anything. Last time he called me like this, Jo had fallen down the stairs and done herself some damage.
“Is everything okay?”
“Just get here and make it quick, Doc.” Mark hangs up before I can ask anything more, and his urgency has me pulling on the first clothes that come to hand before grabbing my bag and heading to the ranch.
Charlie’s SUV is parked haphazardly beside Mark’s truck. When I let myself in, there’s a heaviness that hangs in the air, made worse when Mark greets me when I reach the open-plan living area.
“You’re the only person Charlie trusts to help right now.”
“What’s happened? Where are the kids?”
“They’re in the playroom.” He leads me down the hallway toward his office, pausing outside to tell me, “One of Charlie’s friends got beat up bad and…”
“I thought she was in DC for the weekend?”
Mark shakes his head, serious enough that I sense the gravity of the situation.
“It’s bad enough that Priscilla didn’t care if she missed the party tomorrow.” He blows out a breath before I follow him into the room.
Charlie’s sitting on one of the couches with her friend. There’s more trepidation than I’ve ever seen on her as I assess the situation. My gut churns as I take a step closer, and the woman flinches into her.
“It’s okay,” Charlie tells her, shuffling to the edge of the seat so that she can look her in the eyes. “I told you, Garrett’s a doctor. He’s going to look you over, make sure you’re all right.”
Wiping her tears with shaky hands, she looks up at me, and I’ve never felt the need to help someone as much as I feel it now.
“You can trust him, Avery.”
Avery. It’s a beautiful name. I imagine that when she’s not battered and bruised like she is right now that she looks as pleasant as every syllable of it. The way it echoes in my head makes it impossible not to sound it out myself.
“Hi, Avery.” I try to smile like I’ve learned to in order to put my patients at ease even when the situation is bad. It doesn’t work in the slightest; if anything, it makes me feel worse for trying to make light of the gravity of her injuries.
One side of her face is so swollen and beat up that it makes me cringe when she pats it dry. She’s got to be in so much pain, but she’s holding it together.
“Hi,” she murmurs with a nod, focusing on the couch that’s facing away from me.
Following her gaze, I find the little girl who’s lying there, asleep. I round to the coffee table, putting my kit bag down while I take a seat within reaching distance.
This close, her injuries look worse. Every time she bites on her lip, the cut weeps. The swelling on the left side of her face is marled a bright mauve that makes me believe she could have a fracture.
“Can I take a look at your face?”
Avery looks at Charlie with an audible swallow that makes her shudder. The bruising on her throat catches my eye, and I follow it down to the collar of her sweater.
“Okay,” she croaks with fresh tears lining her eyes.
A sad gaze roams over me as I edge closer, and Avery shifts to the edge of the couch. Looking up at me with dark, mossy eyes, she pulls the sleeves of her sweater over her hands, holding impossibly still as I examine her face.
“I’ll get the kids to bed,” Mark says from behind us. “You know where I am.”
Charlie gives him a small smile, and it’s in these moments that you see the depth of their affection for one another. Beyond the jokes and jibes, they share a connection that is unquestionable.
“Let me know what I
can do.” He sounds how I feel—disgusted and about ready to track down the asshole that hurt her like this.
It strikes me how brave Avery is with the way she tries to hold as still as possible while her eyes dart around the room, following the movement around us.
There are a few small scars at her temple and brow. They’re old enough that they’re only visible this close.
“I know it hurts, but I need you to talk to me. Tell me how…” Shit, I’m trying to search for the right way to ask her how she was hurt without sounding like a complete heartless idiot.
“It’s a blur. I think…” She pauses when I find her teary stare. “I-I lost my balance and I fell. I hit my face on the kitchen counter, maybe on the stool. We were in the kitchen…and then in the bedroom. Her bedroom.” She looks over my shoulder to where the little girl is lying.
Her jaw isn’t clicking when she talks, and the swelling is firm enough that it doesn’t hint at anything too sinister. Maybe a hairline fracture along her cheekbone.
“I’m certain there aren’t any major fractures.” Continuing to look over her face, I pull gently at her bottom lip to her strangled wince as I tuck a loose tendril back from her face. “Sorry,” I murmur, checking her lip and gum.
“He hit me.” Avery blinks as though she’s in disbelief. “I don’t remember hitting him back…”
“There’s still time to get that sleazebag where it hurts,” Charlie spits, standing to pace beside me. “You can report this, you know that. You have proof…”
“What proof, Charlie? What? The bruises on my face?” she sobs down at her lap. “Maybe a couple of broken ribs?”
“You can’t let him get away with it!”
“It’s not how it works, though, is it? He’ll say I fell down the stairs, and then it’s my word against his and all his people. It happens all the time…I’m not the first person.” Another choked sob cuts through the air. “And nobody is going to care. Not about me.”
My anger crackles brighter inside my chest. I want to tell her that I care, and I have no idea why. It should bother me that the boundaries I normally hold in place are nowhere to be found. It doesn’t, though. What bothers me are her tears and the fact that she so clearly believes that she’s got nobody.
“That’s not true, and he better hide, because the FBI are going to be the least of his worries.”
“He didn’t deny it.” Avery levels her with a searching stare. Neither one is bothered by the fact that I’m listening. “I thought that he was paranoid about me and Dom being friends…”
“Yeah, well, we both know that’s not what he was worried about. He’s a scumbag, Avery, and he deserves everything coming his way. Including the charges that you’re going to press because he hurt you for no other reason than the fact that—”
“Mommy?”
“Hey, kiddo!” Charlie stands, disappearing behind me to fuss over the little girl. She’s good at flipping emotions and disguising her feelings. Sometimes I wonder if she has some kind of multi-personality disorder.
She comes to stand beside me with the little girl wrapped around her. My eyes zone in on the bruise on her leg, and it doesn’t take much thought to put two and two together.
Charlie’s gaze follows mine, her jaw clenching as she balances Iris on her hip and holds up her leg for a closer look. “What happened?”
“I hit my leg during relay practice. It only hurts when you press it.” Iris gives her a toothy grin as I grab some painkillers from my bag for Avery. A weight I didn’t realize was constricting my chest loosens as she continues. “It’s because I’m diving now, and it’s harder than it looks.”
The articulate speech and the roll of her green eyes make me snicker. She’s not much bigger than Charlie and Mark’s daughter; in fact, the two of them are so similar with their eyes and blonde hair.
“How about we go find Kenny?” Charlie puts her on her feet, taking her hand to guide her out of the room only to be tugged back by her.
Iris stares between me and Avery, worry creasing her big eyes. They flicker between the two of us, until they finally settle on me, blinking wet in the soft light.
“It’s okay, baby, you can go with Charlie. Mommy is fine.”
“Promise?”
The way she’s so obviously choked is heartbreaking. Worry and fear twist her face, giving her an older appearance.
“Pinky promise,” Avery murmurs, standing to meet her by the open doorway.
I don’t miss the way she favors the left side of her body, suggesting that her right side is tender. It’s hard to tell where she’s hurting, though, with how swamped she is by the sweater she’s wearing. It’s too clean to be what she was wearing when she got hurt. Especially with the blood that’s dried around her nose. I’m guessing it’s not hers.
“I’m scared,” Iris whispers when Avery lowers to her knees in front of her, hugging her so tight that it’s impossible for her not to be in pain.
“You’ve been so brave, and it’s okay to feel scared, but you remember what Dominic said?” Iris nods. “Good, because it’s true. You’re safe. We’re safe. Nobody’s going to hurt you. Ever.”
“And you?”
“Or me.”
“Nobody is hurting anybody,” Charlie states. Although there’s a soft smile on her face, her body language is steeled and defensive. “Come on, baby girl.”
Avery doesn’t move as Charlie ushers Iris away. Before she’s out of sight, Charlie pauses. “If you let him get away with it…you’ll never forgive yourself.”
“I know.”
The second Charlie disappears and the door shuts, the spacious room instantly feels smaller, tighter even. Before I can stop myself, I get up and help Avery to her feet as gently as I can because every part of her tenses when I touch her. I feel her pull away, forcing myself to let go when she goes to the window overlooking the side yard.
Grabbing one of the water bottles from the coffee table, I pop a couple of painkillers into my hand.
Waterlogged eyes pause on mine, and I’ve never in my entire life felt the urge to hold someone as tightly as I want to hold Avery. My entire being burns with the need to care for her. I keep telling myself that it’s because she means something to Charlie.
“Arnica ointment will reduce the swelling and bruising on your face,” I tell her, keeping my voice as soft as possible even though I’m seething. “These will help with the aches and pains. They might make you drowsy…”
“Thank you.” Avery takes the painkillers and the water bottle I offer. Every move she makes is graceful even through her obvious discomfort.
“How old is your daughter?”
“Iris is seven. Seven going on seventeen on some days and seventy on others. She’s a good girl.” That’s what breaks her.
Body-racking sobs tear out of her as she tries to gasp for breath. Chestnut strands fall in front of her face as she anxiously scratches at her head.
I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t allow myself to get emotionally swept up into this, but before I can stop myself, I pull her into me. Loose enough that she can pull away but close enough that I feel every wretched tremble of her body. The deluge of her tears stokes the anger burning inside me.
“Charlie’s right. You should press charges.”
At my statement, Avery pulls away. A shutter falls between us as she slowly heads for the door, hissing with every step she takes.
“You’re right—you’re not the first person, and this shit happens all the time. You have no idea how many women have been in your shoes. But you have Mark and Charlie, and they obviously care, or they wouldn’t bring you here.”
She pauses by the door, looking down at her feet. “You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me or my husband. You don’t know…you…”
I’m not sure whether she’s talking to me or herself. Regardless, I wish I could go back and say something different to make her feel at ease. The way she’s closed up, it’s obvious she’s not going to let me check
over the rest of her injuries, no matter how much pain she’s in or how bad they are.
“Thank you for the painkillers.”
I watch Avery walk away while I ask myself why I couldn’t stick with the usual script. She’s right. I might have treated women in similar situations to hers, but she’s not those women. She wouldn’t be here if she was.
Chapter Six
AVERY
Iris looks up at me from the blanket fort. She has that same frightened frown on her face that she had when she found me and Carl. The last forty-eight hours have been hard enough without me talking to her about what she might have seen. Every time I’ve sat down with her and found a moment to bring it up, she’s looked at me with that sad, scared gaze that makes my stomach turn.
“You really should let Garrett take a look.” Charlie nods down at my side as I grasp the back of the dining chair I’m using to hold myself up.
The pain hasn’t subsided even with the aging bruising, and I’ve stopped taking the painkillers regularly like Garrett instructed. They make my head fuzzy, and it panics me to be so hazy when there’s so much happening.
“I’m fine,” I tell her, taking the salad platter she’s got in her hand. I put it down as an excuse to look away from her prying gaze.
Now that the shock of it all is dying down, I don’t have a buffer to keep her from digging deeper. Maybe I should’ve gone back to DC like Mike suggested when we spoke last night. Long before he and Dad were partners, they were friends. He’s like an uncle to me, and he’s right, I could’ve gone back to my parents’ home. Locked myself and Iris away from the world until I figured out a way of moving forward. However, as Charlie pointed out, I’m certain Carl would’ve found a way of getting to us.
The thought of him finding out where we are terrifies me because as much as he hurt me the other night and others before, he was still holding back. It’s obvious in every recollection I have of that night, because he could’ve caused more damage. And that is the one thought that keeps me from going back to DC.
Endurance: A Salvation Society Novel Page 4