“I’m not doin’ that.”
“Well, keep it. I don’t care.”
“Oh, now you don’t care?”
Quiet, yet again.
I sigh. “Gabby, I want to see you. I fuckin’ miss you, all right? Is that what you wanna hear?”
“No,” she responds, her voice lower. Thicker.
“What’s goin’ on with you? Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” she says, but her voice is even thicker with emotion. “Just go away.”
“Gabby,” I call. “Open the door. Let me see you.”
It’s quiet for so long I assume she’s no longer there. But then, several seconds later, I hear the lock clink and the door slowly cracks open.
All I see is the right side of her face and one of her bright green eyes. Still, it’s a relief.
She holds a hand through the crack of the door, extending her arm. “Give me the ring.”
“You gonna open the door all the way?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Just give me the ring, Marcel, and hurry,” she demands.
“What’s the rush?”
Her eye shifts up to meet mine. “Kyle is in town. He’ll be back soon.”
I scoff. “So? Fuck him.”
“Marcel, seriously! Just give me the ring and stop joking around!”
“What in the hell is wrong with you, Gabby?” I give the door a little tap, which clearly catches her off guard because she gasps, then pushes it back in place just as quickly. “What the fu—” I push it harder and it swings back again, revealing her whole face. It’s a quick reveal, but I see it.
I knew my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me. There’s a mark on the other side of her face, but she rushes to push the door back where it was again.
My frown grows even deeper, my chest tightening as I ask, “What the hell happened to your face, Gabby?”
She looks up at me with that one eye, and it’s full of tears now. I notice her chin is trembling. She drops her hand, and I push the door open a little bit more.
This time she doesn’t put up a fight.
What I see shocks the hell out of me. At first, I don’t even know how to take it. There’s a bruise on the left half of her face, discoloring that whole side of it. Her upper lip is busted, her cheek swollen.
My eyes widen as I stare at her, almost too shocked for words.
“Did he…did he do this to you?” I ask, clasping her chin between my fingers.
She looks away, taking her chin with her.
“Gabby, answer me!”
She flinches. “It’s nothing!”
“Nothin’? Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? You have a fuckin’ bruise on your face, Gabby! You were hidin’ behind the goddamn door! How is that nothin’?”
“We’re over, Marcel! Okay?” she shouts back.
I push the door open completely, ignoring her.
“When will he be back?” I snap as she leaps away. “Tell me! I swear to God I’m going to rip that spoiled bitch in half!”
I’m seething now, only seeing red. If there’s one thing I hate in this world, it’s when a man puts his hands on a woman.
My father? He wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot. He hit my mother several times when he was drunk or couldn’t get a hold of his anger, but he got help, and I respected him for doing that because most men feel like getting help is beneath them.
I hated seeing my mother hide her bruises and scars every morning before sending Shay and me off to school.
Now I get it. Now I see why Gabby wore what she wore sometimes—long-sleeved shirts and jeans on some of the hottest days. It wasn’t because those were the only clothes she had, but because she was hiding what her husband was doing to her.
Seeing the bruise on Gabby’s face brings me back to the days when I had to fight for my mother and even myself.
“I don’t know when he’ll be back, but you can’t be here when he does, okay? I’m going to take care of it! I’m going to make a plan to leave so I can deal with this myself!”
“Has he hit you before now?” I demand, and she clamps her mouth shut. Her eyes water even more, which is all the answer I need. I figured he had, but the confirmation kills me.
How could I not have seen this? Why didn’t I put two-and-two together? I feel like such a fucking idiot.
The way she freaked out when she left the villa was a clear sign. I asked her what he had on her, and she got this look in her eyes, like she was afraid of something…little did I know it was someone.
I cup her face in my hands as delicately as I can. “Why are you still with that motherfucker, Gabby? Why?” I look her in the eyes, but she squeezes them shut so she can’t see me. “Leave with me right now. We can get the fuck out of here before he comes back. You won’t have to deal with his shit anymore, I swear to you.”
“I can’t do that,” she sobs.
“Why the hell not?”
“Because…I just can’t, Marcel! Kyle has done a lot for my family—for me. He’ll end it all if I go! He’ll kill me if I try to leave!”
“Then let him fuckin’ end whatever he has on your family, Gabby! Who gives a shit? This is your life, and he’s threatening it!”
She breaks down into a heavier sob, bringing her face to my chest. I’m still pissed the fuck off, but I don’t know what else to do besides hold her.
I hope he comes soon. I swear I’m going to beat the shit out of him.
“Come to my place,” I murmur. “Right now. You and Callie.”
“He’ll find me. He knows about us…what we did behind his back.”
I’m surprised to hear this. I grip her shoulders and hold her back so that I can see her face clearly. “Wait…is that why he hit you?”
She nods and her throat bobs as she swallows some of the emotion. “He knew I was with you on that trip. Threatened that if I didn’t end whatever this is that we have, I would regret it.”
I pull away.
“He’s known since the day after we first did it, Marcel. In the kitchen, when the table broke. He found one of your business cards there. I don’t know if it fell out of your pocket or what, but it was there, and I guess he put it all together when I went with you a few days ago.”
Shit. “This is my fault then. I should have checked—I should have made sure to pick up after myself—”
“No—it is not your fault. It’s not. Don’t say that! You have no control over his actions.”
I look at the table. The leg has been fixed.
We’re both quiet for so long. She looks at me with questions in her eyes. She and I both know she’s doomed here. I can’t let her stay, and I’ll be damned if he hurts her again.
“Go get some clothes,” I tell her, pointing at the staircase. “You don’t need a lot. Just enough for a few days, until you can get situated. You’re comin’ with me.”
“I can’t leave with you, Marcel!”
“Yes, you can!” I grip her shoulders again. “Listen to me, your family will understand if shit goes south, Gabby! That’s what family is for, but being around him has clearly made you forget about that! Now fuckin’ go!”
She blinks her tears away, and like my words finally make some kind of sense to her, she rushes around me and jogs up the stairs.
I head for the kitchen, grabbing Callie’s dog food and bowls. I snatch up a few of her toys as well and go to my truck. I put it all in the bed of the truck and jog back to the house.
Gabby is rushing down the stairs with a suitcase when I walk back in, Callie hot on her heels.
I grab her suitcase, locking the handle in my hand. She scoops Callie up and follows me out the door, closing it behind her.
“He’ll find me, Marcel. He’ll kill me,” she says, panicking.
“He won’t find you without me around. And if he even tries to lay a finger on you, I’ll fuck him up.” I march out of the house, walking down the stoop, but as soon as we hit the cobblestone, a car
rolls down the driveway.
Through my peripheral vision I see Gabby freeze at my side, and out of instinct, I stop walking as the black BMW rolls right up to us, parking only a few steps away.
Kyle steps out of the car with a pair of sunglasses on, then he lowers them, focusing right on the suitcase in my hand. His eyes then shift up to Gabby, before locking on me.
“Well,” Kyle says with a smug smile. “This is interesting.”
Chapter Four
Marcel
I ignore Kyle, grabbing Gabby’s hand and walking around the passenger side of his car.
“You know if you leave, this changes everything, right, Gabs?” Kyle calls after her, his voice way too calm as he closes his car door.
She starts to look back. I squeeze her hand, and she looks at me again. “Fuck him,” I mutter. “Don’t look back.”
She obeys, dropping her head and walking with me again up the driveway.
“I mean, think about your mother—how much I paid just for her to get an immigration lawyer so she could stay here! She was almost deported because her visitation period had been over for two years! Don’t you remember that? I came to your rescue when you needed me! I helped her when she got into that silly fight and had the cops called on her! I’m the reason she’s still here, Gabs!”
Gabby stops walking immediately, pulling her hand out of mine.
“No—Gabby, let’s go!” I tell her. “Don’t listen to anything he’s sayin’. He’s just tryin’ to get to you.”
“And Ricky? Remember when he asked if I could invest in his tech business, help him get started, but instead I gave him money out of my pocket, that I worked my ass off for, to do that? And your father, Gabs. Oh, man. Your father. He will be very disappointed when he finds out that the contract we currently have will be terminated soon. Null and void, all because of the reckless adultery of his daughter. Knowing your father, he doesn’t have a backup plan. If he doesn’t have any money stashed somewhere, he’ll lose everything, Gabs. His house, his cars. Hell, he may even lose his wife if I decide to give ICE a call. Those documents for her to stay are still processing. Wouldn’t be hard to put a word in and have that all go down the drain, considering she’s just like you.”
Fed up, Gabby spins around, placing Callie down. “You’re a fucking bastard!” she screams at him.
He shrugs. “You know I would do it.”
Gabby turns to me with a hopelessness in her eyes that makes my heart ache. “I’m sorry.” Her head shakes fast. “I can’t go, Marcel. I can’t take the risk right now.”
“Yes, you can, Gabby! This is a risk you’ll have to take to get away! You can’t let him have this kind of power over you!”
“Would you listen to this guy? Gabs, you hardly even know him! What can a landscape architect do for you? He won’t be able to do half the things I can do! I make way more money in one day than he does in a month! Why sell yourself short?”
Fire floods through my veins. I drop the suitcase and charge toward him, not giving a damn about the consequences.
When I’m closer, Kyle holds up his hands and says, “If you even think about laying a finger on me, I will have you arrested so quickly, you won’t even see it coming.”
I keep walking.
“June 14th, 2010. Marcellus Ward was charged with four counts of assault! One of the men barely survived the brutal beating but was kind enough to let the assault charges go because you’d recently lost your sister, so you only spent five days in jail.”
I stop dead in my tracks, looking him straight in the eyes with a frown. How the fuck does he know that? Did he really do research on me? Find my record? Twisted fuck!
As if he can hear the questions I ask myself, he smirks and says, “The man that let you off was very kind, but I am nothing like him. If you so much as touch me, I will not let you get away with it. With another charge like that, I’m certain you’d spend several months in jail, considering the kind of man I am. I know people. My father knows people. You touch me, and your career—your life—is over.”
I steel my jaw and flare my nostrils. I swear I want to hit him square in the fucking mouth.
Instead, I take a few steps closer, pointing a finger at him. “She’s not staying here with you.”
“Oh yes she is.” He looks over my shoulder and I look, too. Gabby has her suitcase and is walking back to the stoop.
“Gabby, what the hell are you doing?” I call, chasing after her.
“Just let me come up with my own plan, okay?” Her eyes glisten as I approach. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I really am.”
“Just walk away with me. I don’t have to hurt him, but you can walk. You have that right.”
“He won’t let this go.”
I hear footsteps, and Kyle is walking around me to go up the stoop.
“Get inside, Gabby.” He’s standing by the door now, waiting for her with impatient eyes and folded arms.
With wet lashes she looks from him to me, then shakes her head, walking up the rest of the stairs and going past him.
“Gabby!” I yell. I rush up the steps, but Kyle raises a brow and blocks the entrance of the house. I’m face-to-face with him, seething like a fucking bull now.
I want to strangle this motherfucker so bad. The last time I was this mad was right before I got tossed in jail for the same assault he brought up.
“You touch her again, and I won’t give a damn about the fuckin’ assault charges. You got that?” I snarl. “I’m gonna come by here again, and if I see so much as a scratch on her body that I haven’t seen before, I will rip your pussy-ass to shreds. And trust me, I will know if there’s a scratch or bruise that hasn’t been there before because I explored her body in more ways than you can count several days ago.”
He straightens his spine after that remark, that stupid smirk of his rapidly fading.
“I don’t give a fuck if I’m in jail for the rest of my life,” I rasp. “Destroyin’ you and settin’ her free will be well worth it. Trust me when I say that as soon as she reaches out to me and is ready to leave your sorry ass, I’ll be right fuckin’ here.” I shove a finger into his chest.
Kyle tries to stare me down, but I don’t let him win. I stare back with a glare that’s twice as intense.
When he’s fed up, he takes a step back, shaking his head and giving me his back.
“Get off my property before I call the cops,” he snaps then walks inside.
Before he can shut the door, I notice Gabby staring right at me, and I don’t know what it is about the look in her eyes, but it tells me everything I need to know.
When she’s figured this out, she will run. She knows this isn’t just her battle anymore. It’s ours. I don’t care if I have to camp out in front of her fucking house, I’ll do it, because my word is all I have and I mean everything I say.
The door closes and I stand there a moment with a hand at my hip.
I hear a bark behind me and peer over my shoulder. Callie is standing beside the BMW, looking right at me. I glance at the door before walking down the stoop, then scoop Callie up in my hands and head for my truck.
Gabby would never leave Callie out on her own, no matter how distressed she is. I’m taking it as a sign that she wants me to take her, protect her.
I’m going to do just that.
Chapter Five
Gabby
Where does a person like me go from here?
I don’t have much to my name. When I met Kyle and we ended up getting serious, it was a relief to not have to work anymore.
He told me to quit my job, promising he’d take care of me. He claimed he wanted me to focus on school and to live my life without the stress of paying a late bill or working overtime to cover some of my school loans.
He swore he had my back and, for the most part, he did. He always came through with a hefty deposit in my bank account every week.
I was lucky to get a partial academic scholarship, but working wasn’t enoug
h to cover everything, so to any person who has struggled, someone like Kyle would have felt like a godsend. Kyle lifted the burdens and washed most of my stress away.
It wasn’t just about the money; I really liked him. He was unique, dedicated, and charming. I thought he really loved me, but I realize now that someone who loves me would never hurt me.
I know one thing for a fact now: I fell for a madman. He dove in, learned everything about me, and used it against me.
I thought, at the time, he really wanted to help me, but it turns out he was only using it as leverage. I’m nothing more to him than a pawn.
He wanted to have something to hold over my head from the moment we met, that way if he revealed his true self, I couldn’t just run away or back out.
I hate that I just handed my worries over to him. I’d much rather deal with the stress of paying off student loans than this, being tormented and abused every day.
I’m sitting at the kitchen table Kyle demanded I sit at, while he attempts to prepare dinner.
I feel like a child, and I’m so humiliated that Marcel saw me like that. I never wanted him to see me in that position, beaten and emotionally weak.
Would he really come again, or was he just saying that out of anger and spite? Deep down, I hope he does. Seeing him, if only for a moment, made me realize that I can be cared about in a saner way.
“Do you want cheese?” Kyle asks, snapping a finger in my face.
I look up at him as he stands in front of me with a container of parmesan cheese in hand. I look down at the bowl of whole wheat spaghetti topped with red sauce. It’s the only dinner he knows how to make.
I peer up at him again, shaking my head. “No.”
“Whatever.” Kyle sits in the chair beside me—something he never does—and tops his pasta off with cheese. He normally takes the seat across from me, at the opposite end of the table. Having him this close causes me to stiffen in my chair. “Eat,” he orders.
I pick up my fork and shift the noodles around with it, but I don’t eat. He, on the other hand, digs right in, as if he has no worries in the world.
The Man I Need Page 4