by Jo McNally
“I’ll take care of it.” Nora and Cathy looked at each other and shrugged.
The girl startled when she saw Cassie approaching, then brushed her dark hair back over her shoulder and looked away. There was a yellowed bruise on her wrist. The boy sat up and looked at Cassie with a contempt she was sadly familiar with. It was like staring into the eyes of a younger Don. And, just like Don, he quickly smoothed a cool smile onto his face to conform with expected polite behavior.
Cassie looked him straight in the eye and returned the thin, insincere smile. “Hi, guys. Is there anything else you two need today? I don’t want to chase you away, but we’re doing inventory and we’ll be shutting down the coffee machines.”
The girl rushed to apologize. “I’m so sorry. We’re ready to go.” She glanced across the table, suddenly uncertain. “Aren’t we, Tristan?”
He sat back lazily and shrugged before slowly standing. “I guess so. If we’re gonna be thrown out.” There was challenge in his eyes, and Cassie didn’t blink.
“I’m not throwing you out, but we do need to shut down. We won’t be able to serve you.”
He jerked his head toward the girl and she leaped to her feet as if he’d tased her. He turned his back and tossed his words over his shoulder as he opened the door.
“Whatever. This place sucks anyway.”
The girl hurried to follow, whispering a quick “I’m sorry” as she passed Cassie. They left, and Cassie stood by the door, filled with regret. That girl was in trouble, and Cassie hadn’t done anything to help. She went outside to the sidewalk, but they were gone from sight. She’d missed her chance. She rejoined Nora and Cathy.
“Is there any kind of shelter for abused women around here?”
Cathy shook her head. “Not in Gallant Lake. But there’s a place over in White Plains, probably half an hour or so away. Why?”
“I was just wondering. It’s too bad there’s not someplace closer.” It would have been nice if she could have at least handed that poor girl a number to call for counseling. She’d have to check out the shelter and learn more about it. Maybe even volunteer. She didn’t help that girl, but maybe she could help someone else.
Nora lifted the trash bag out of the bin behind the counter and Cassie reached for it. She needed the distraction.
“I’ll take it out, Nora. You two get started counting cups and spoons and whatever else we have to count.”
She was barely three steps out of the back door when she heard a frightened cry.
“No, Tris, stop! That hurts!”
The boy’s voice was rough and angry. “It oughtta hurt, you stupid cow! I heard you apologize for me to that bitch in there. Don’t you ever make apologies for me again, you got it?”
It was the kids from the coffee shop. He’d yanked the girl around the corner of the building and pushed her up against the empty bakery two doors down. Cassie dropped the trash bag and headed toward them. He continued to berate the girl, and was raising his arm in the air when Cassie reached them.
He never saw her coming, and let out a yelp when she grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm behind his back before releasing him with a shove that sent him stumbling a few steps.
“What the hell are you doin’, you crazy...”
Cassie nodded toward the girl, now wide-eyed and silent. “Go!”
Tristan avoided Cassie’s grip, keeping his distance as he glared. “Shut up! Daynette, don’t you listen to her!”
Daynette looked between Tristan and Cassie, crying and confused. Cassie kept her voice level.
“Daynette, this isn’t the first time he’s hurt you, is it? I saw the bruises on your wrist. Let me guess—he always says he’ll never do it again, right? And then he does?” Cassie took a step toward her. “And then he makes it your fault, right? Blames you for making him mad?” She could see in the girl’s eyes that her words were hitting home. “He’s never going to change, Daynette. I’ve been where you are, and I can tell you he’s never going to change. Get out while you can.”
Tristan sneered. “And who’s gonna stop me from chasing after her? You?”
Cassie ignored him. “Daynette, do you have someplace safe to go? Is home nearby?” The girl nodded. “Okay. Go there. Talk to someone about this. And stay away from this jerk.”
The boy stepped forward. He was thin, but solid, and Cassie knew she’d have her work cut out for her if he got physical.
“Don’t you leave, girl. Don’t you walk away from me.”
Daynette hesitated, then looked at Cassie, searching her eyes for the promise of something better. Cassie nodded toward the street.
“Go.”
Tristan moved to grab Daynette when she ran off, but Cassie elbowed him hard in the ribs. He grunted, then jumped away.
“Lady, you are batshit crazy!” He grabbed her arm, and Cassie could hear Nick’s steady voice in her head. Lower your center of balance. Don’t try to outpower him, just go after the pain points. She didn’t try to pull away, surprising him by stepping into his grip, coming close enough to bring her heel down on the top of his arch. He cursed and let go of her arm. Adrenaline was pounding through her veins. She should walk away, but she wanted to push him onto his ass and kick the living daylights out of him right there in the parking lot. Before she could decide between the two options, she was shoved aside.
By Nick.
* * *
All Nick saw was red. He was driving back to the resort when he saw some punk kid drag a girl around the corner and into the lot behind Cassie’s apartment. It took him a minute to turn around and swing back there to make sure the girl was okay. The last thing he expected was to see this guy grab Cassie and yank her around. Nick jumped out of the Jeep so fast he wasn’t even sure if he’d put it in Park. Cass was fighting back—he saw her stomp on the guy’s foot. The kid didn’t have time to straighten before Nick grabbed the little piece of garbage and slammed him against the brick wall.
He looked like he was ready to soil his underwear when he got a look at Nick pulling back his fist. He started talking, and fast.
“No, man! You got it all wrong! My girl and I had a little fight, and this lady thought I was going to hurt Daynette, and I was explaining that I’d never do that! We’re cool! Everything is cool, man, I swear!”
Cassie pushed past Nick, wagging her finger in the boy’s face.
“Liar! You’ve been using that girl as a punching bag, and that’s going to stop. You don’t own that girl, and you don’t put your hands on her again. Got it?”
“Cassie, damn it, get back! I got this.”
“No, Nick, I had this before you got here. And why the hell are you here?”
The teen struggled, and Nick twisted his shirt up at his throat.
“I’m gonna let you go now, and you’re gonna apologize to this lady and walk away. And whoever you were using as a punching bag? You stay the hell away from her. Got it?”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it. I’m sorry, lady.” He took off like he was on fire.
Nick turned to Cassie, trying not to think about how many ways this scene could have gone wrong. “Are you okay? What the hell were you thinking, going after that guy?”
“Why do you keep insisting on being my knight in shining armor?”
“Most women want a knight in shining armor, don’t they? Why are you mad at me?”
“Because I don’t need your help, Nick! Wasn’t that the whole point?”
“The whole point of what?” Nick raked his fingers through his hair.
“Of us!” Cassie gestured angrily between them. “I was your little pet project, right?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Come on, Nick. You wanted to be a hero for teaching me a few self-defense moves, and you got a little fun between the sheets on the side. Big man, right?” She stepped back and looked him up an
d down, hands on her hips, eyes flashing with emotion. “Well, I don’t want to be your project anymore, Nick. I’m an independent woman and I can take care of myself!”
Nick’s mouth fell open, but he couldn’t form any words that he trusted. But Cassie didn’t have that problem.
“I’ve already been with a man who controlled my every move. And he tried to tell me it was for my own good, too. But it wasn’t. It was all for him. To make him feel like a big man. And you’re doing the same thing. You’ve got some kind of hero complex...”
Anger rushed through his veins, white-hot. “I am nothing like your ex.”
“You’re exactly like him!” She threw her hands in the air. “You’re trying to tell me what to do and how to think and where to be...”
“I would never hurt you!” His voice echoed off the brick wall. There was a time when shouting made Cassie flinch and stammer. That time was apparently long gone. Now she stepped right up to him, shaking her finger in his face this time.
“You hurt me today, by not trusting me!”
Guilt punched him hard in the gut, but he pushed it aside.
“I’m not Don. I’d never put a hand on you.”
She blinked, lowering her hand slowly. Maybe she was finally hopping off the hissy-fit train. Her voice steadied, but there was still fury and hurt in every trembling word.
“Fine. You’d never hurt me physically. But the broken bones weren’t the worst thing Don did to me, Nick. Stealing my self-worth, sucking away my confidence, changing who I was—that’s the most serious damage he inflicted. And now you’re doing the same thing.”
“Cassie...”
She spun away, her shoulders so tight and straight he thought she’d snap. And he’d made her that upset. But how? By wanting to keep her safe? How could that be so wrong?
He scrubbed his hands down his face with a growl, staring at the ground. Damn it. She accused him of stealing her self-worth? He’d taught her how to defend herself and stand up for herself. Sucking away her confidence? She’d climbed a fucking mountain with him. Change who she was? He’d made her a better person...
His shoulders dropped. But was it his place to do that? She said he had a hero complex. Jada used to say the same thing. She’d died because of his hero complex. And look what he was doing to Cassie now. Christ, he was such a screwup. He looked up and found her staring at him. And he couldn’t help defending himself, because...screwup.
“I thought I was helping. I thought that’s what you wanted. I thought you...”
I thought you loved me.
But he couldn’t say that out loud, not when she was staring at him with so much anger and hurt. This wasn’t the time to tell her he was in love with her. He might be stupid, but he wasn’t that stupid. He couldn’t throw those words out there when there was a very good chance she’d stomp on them and fling them back in his face.
Cassie’s arms wrapped tightly around her own body, as if holding herself together. He wanted to be the one to do that. He started to step forward, but she shook her head sharply, stopping him in his tracks.
“Don’t. I can’t...” She shook her head slowly. “I...I don’t trust my feelings right now, Nick. Maybe I’m mixing you and Don up in my head. Maybe I’m lashing out at you because I never had the chance to lash out at him. Or the courage to lash out at him. Or maybe you deserve every bit of it because you built me into something you don’t seem to like very much.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
“Is it? You didn’t want me to be a victim anymore because you don’t like victims. But victims are the ones who need a hero’s rescue. So if I’m not a victim anymore, you no longer have a role to play. I don’t need you to save me, because you taught me how to save myself. You taught me that I don’t need a hero. So where does that leave us?”
His mouth opened, but he had no idea what to say to her convoluted logic. If he loved her, it was his job to protect her, right? But then, why had he taught her how to protect herself? His brain was spinning faster than tires on ice, and his frustration boiled up again.
“You’ve got all the answers, Cassie. You’ve clearly psychoanalyzed me and come to your own rock-solid conclusion. So why don’t you tell me where it leaves us?”
Her eyes hardened.
“So now the big, bad cop is refusing to take a stand. Who’s the victim now?”
He bit back the angry words begging to be said. They’d reached the point in this argument where someone was going to have to walk away before they burned down any hope of repairing the damage already done. His jaw tightened. It galled him to be the one walking. It galled him to quit before a winner was declared. But he could see it in her eyes. She was drunk on her newfound ability to take a stand, and she wasn’t going to back down.
He got it. For years, she hadn’t landed even a glancing blow on her asshole of an ex. She was going to stand and fight now just to enjoy the adrenaline rush of getting her punches in. But it wasn’t in his nature to be someone’s punching bag.
They could finish this conversation when they were both more reasonable. He turned for the Jeep, his parting words spoken over his shoulder to the woman he loved.
“I think we’re done here.”
Chapter Seventeen
I think we’re done...
Those words rolled around in Cassie’s mind on an endless repeat cycle as she stared into her morning coffee.
We’re done.
She hadn’t slept at all, tossing and turning until the sheets were in a twisted heap. After Nick left, she’d sent a text to Cathy, saying she had a bad headache and begged off from the inventory. Then she’d quietly gone up to the apartment to assess what just happened.
Done.
She didn’t know where all that rage had come from. One moment she’d been standing there, feeling like an Amazon warrior after setting Tristan back on his heels. And the next, it was as if Nick had snatched all of her power away. After teaching her those skills, he’d been furious when she’d used them. And something inside of her had just...snapped.
She brushed a fresh wash of tears from her cheeks. How many tears could a human body produce, anyway? She’d been crying all damn night.
All the hurt and rage of a decade had risen to the surface like lava in a volcano yesterday, and she’d unleashed it on Nick. It was frightening to be so completely out of control, with no ability to hold back words she wasn’t even sure she believed. Wasn’t sure if they should be aimed at Nick or at Don. Or perhaps even at herself.
The one person who could help her sort it all out, and the only person whose opinion mattered to her, had ended things yesterday. She sniffed back the tears threatening to drown her again.
I think we’re done here.
Just like that, after she’d attacked him one too many times, he’d walked away.
We’re done.
The man she was in love with, the man she thought loved her back, had declared them over. In a way, it may have been best that he’d left, as the argument had been racing toward a flameout. She’d kept throwing his words back at him over and over, until he finally said the one word she didn’t have the strength to repeat.
Done.
Had Nick truly given her strength only to resent her for having it? That might not be fair. He came upon the situation with Tristan and Daynette without knowing what had happened. If the first thing he saw was Tristan’s hand on Cassie’s arm, it wasn’t unreasonable for him to assume the worst. He wasn’t wrong to want to protect her. But it felt wrong. It felt like he didn’t want her to step up and be strong, even though that was all he’d been talking about since they met.
Her coffee had turned cold enough to make her grimace when she took a sip. A sad realization pressed down on her. Nick might never be able to see her as anything other than a victim. If she was going to start a new life as a new Cas
sie, she might have to do it somewhere other than Gallant Lake. Somewhere where no one knew her past. Where people would know only brave, strong Cassie. She glanced at her dusty go-bag by the door. She wouldn’t be running away. She wouldn’t be hiding. She’d be looking for a place to blossom and grow and be her best self. That would be a good thing. So why did the thought of leaving Gallant Lake, of leaving Nick, make her heart hurt?
Another one of those damned Sun Tzu quotes came to mind, and it stung.
Who wishes to fight must first count the cost...
Was losing Nick really a price she was willing to pay?
Her phone started vibrating across the stone counter, making her jump so high she almost fell off the kitchen stool. It wasn’t Don, thank God. It was Blake Randall. She glanced at the clock and swore. She was late for work. She looked down at the sweats and cami she was still wearing. Whom was she kidding? She wasn’t going to work today. She couldn’t possibly face Nick in the office until she had some kind of control over her thoughts. Until she had some sort of plan. Or at least until she stopped crying.
Blake’s call was on its third ring before she swiped to answer.
“Um...” She had to clear her throat and dislodge the tears. “Hi, Blake.”
“Hi, Cass. Did you have a Friday off I’d forgotten about?”
“No. I should have called, sorry. I know I took time yesterday, but I need a personal day. Will that be a problem?”
“Of course not. Well, it’s always a problem when I have to take care of my own damn self, but...” He paused, waiting for her to laugh at his little joke, but she didn’t have it in her to even try. “Are you okay? Has something happened?”
“Yes. I mean... No, nothing’s happened, and yes, I’m fine.” She cursed the shaky breath she took and hoped he couldn’t hear it. “I just...need a day.”