by J. L. Beck
Her eyes widened.
That’s what it was, she realized. When he was around, she wasn’t waiting for an explosion. Even their few encounters had left her feeling a sense of security she no longer had with Justin.
And that was the worst thing of all.
She felt more safe with this stranger than she did with her own husband.
“I…have to clean,” she murmured, backing away from him. “Before my husband gets home, I have to—clean.”
Not only the house, but her mind.
The thoughts she was having right now…they weren’t good. She had never been unfaithful, and it wasn’t even lust that was tempting her away from her husband. It was a sense of safety and security.
“So I’ll take that as a ‘no’,” he said, grunting. He shook his head, then shouldered past her to the guest room. When he came out a moment later, he didn’t spare her a glance. Just grabbed his bag and left without another word. Before he left, though, he said one last thing. “Abusers don’t stop until the victim is dead, Kate. Remember that.”
He took the handle of the door, twisting it. The grip he had on the handle was tight.
“If you need an out, my number is under the guest room pillow.”
“Gage, no—“
“If you need an out,” he said firmly, talking over her, “text me. I’ll be waiting down the street within ten minutes of you texting me, alright?”
She nodded, wrapping her arms around her chest.
“It won’t come to that,” she whispered.
He didn’t say anything, just shook his head and then left.
“What, no dinner tonight?”
She closed her eyes at the sound of Justin’s voice from behind her. Home late. Again. She wasn’t sure whether she appreciated that or not.
“I hurt my foot today,” she said quietly. “Slaving over the stove didn’t sound appealing. What about pizza? Take out?”
He sighed. “So we get to spend more money because you’re lazy. Didn’t you listen to our talk this morning?”
“Justin, I hurt my foot.”
“Couldn’t be that bad. It’s not like anything in the house can hurt you. Get up and make me something.”
She listened to him slide off his shoes, then he sat beside her. The presence of his body next to hers was like that of a spider. It made her skin crawl, hair raising on end. Looking at him brought that same sick sensation and after it was done spreading over her back, it settled in her gut.
She sat there in silence, staring straight ahead. There was no way she was going to get up to make dinner. He couldn’t be that callous, could he?
They’d been arguing for the last year or so, and up until last night, he had never been cruel. But now, it was as if a veil had been lifted and he was done pretending to be anything other than what he was—a monster.
In her mind’s eye, she saw Gage—kneeling in front of her, offering her an out… She shivered, looking down at her lap. It wasn’t a shiver of lust or need, but one of trepidation. She shouldn’t compare her husband to another man…
“Babe, Kate. Get up and make food.” He nudged her shoulder hard enough to jolt her out of her thoughts, and she blinked, glancing at him. He was really going to push her into making dinner.
She shouldn’t.
She should sit there, be defiant. She should show him that she wasn’t afraid of him, that she wasn’t going to just fall into his cycle of threats. The more she wanted to, though, the scarier the thought came. If he hit her…she didn’t know what she would do.
She gingerly pushed herself to her feet, keeping her whimper to herself. The cut wasn’t bad, per se, but it definitely stung to put pressure on it.
“Oh, hey, while you’re in there. Can you plug my phone in?”
With a nod, she took the phone and started walking to the kitchen, feet sinking into the plush carpet. One step was fine, the other hurt—but she had to walk.
“I’m feeling tacos. You pulled out meet for today, yeah? Oh, and a beer—I need a beer,” he called out.
Everything bone in her body rebelled, but she pushed herself to ignore it, to put one foot in front of the other. The phone buzzed in her hand when she passed the threshold and she didn’t bother glancing at it. It was probably work, she thought numbly.
The cord was plugged into the outlet near the microwave. Since he liked to get ahold of her at all hours of the day, there was a charger in each room she spent the most time in—kitchen, living room, and bedroom. Kate plugged in the phone, numbly watching the screen come alive to show it was charging. The screen faded away to reveal the locked screen—and the message that had made his phone buzz.
Normally, Kate wasn’t a snoopy person. She didn’t think too much of her husband’s late nights. He had a job that dealt with demanding clients, and she understood that. She was sympathetic to it—and since she had never thought of him cheating on her when she was so loyal, the possibility of it had never crossed her mind.
That is, until the charge page faded to the lock screen, and a name she had never seen before glared at her in a text bubble.
A text bubble that had a words jumping out at her, like “Come over” and “Tell her you have more work to do”. Words that obviously meant he wasn’t as faithful as she’d always assumed.
She saw the name, and with it, red.
Betrayal, pain, and disbelief stained her vision in a shade of red that was impossible to see through. When she spoke, she didn’t register the words. She acted on auto-pilot, on pain.
This was the straw that broke the horses back.
“Honey, I’m out of cheese,” she called out, staring at the phone as if she was in a trance—hell, she was. “Would you be a sweetheart and grab me some? Albertsons is just down the road.”
“Seriously? I just got home. Why can’t you grab it,” he asked angrily. At this point, she didn’t care. She kept her voice cool, emotionless. The tone of her voice was oddly…serene. Toneless.
“Because I’d like to start browning the meat. Dinner would be done quicker if you could just grab the cheese, honey.” How he didn’t hear the lack of emotion was beyond her—but she heard it. She felt it; or rather, the lack thereof.
She heard the groan, and then the rustle of the couch as he got up.
“Fine. I’ll be back in fifteen,” he grunted. Shortly after that, she heard the door open, close, and then from outside, the car came to life.
Fifteen minutes.
She yanked his phone off the charger, some depraved part of her needing to see what was going on between him and this chick, and then ran to the guest room.
7
“I’ll be at the corner of Decatur and Valley View.”
He glanced at the phone, then to the corner she had said she would be waiting at. There was no sign of her, and hadn’t been for the past six minutes since he’d arrived. It had only taken him a few minutes to get there, less than the ten he had told her, so he wasn’t worried—yet.
He gripped the steering wheel, casting another glance down the cross streets. Would he have to go down there and actually take her out of the house? Him and Justin were old friends—but not close. Close enough to crash at his place for a night, but that was about it. Old ROTC buddies, even back then Justin had had issues being respectful to his girlfriends. Until he’d seen the bruise on Kate’s face, he never would have thought Justin could take it that face.
But he had.
And that was the only reason he was here now, helping her escape him. It might not be permanent—shit, it might not even happen at all—but at least she had made a step to freedom. Contacting him was a start. A small one, but a start nonetheless.
He knew full well that she might not come out. Too terrified to leave, trying to justify Justin’s actions with something that she was the cause of… There were a lot of reasons she could chicken out, and honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if she did.
At least, that’s what he thought until he saw a small, shadowed figure rushing toward t
he truck with a small limp. His chest tightened and not a second later, he hopped out of the car and jogged to meet her.
“Are you okay?” he asked, taking the backpack from her shoulder and slinging it over his shoulder. Before he could think better of it, he reached for her jaw and lifted her gaze to his. She pulled back a little, but he had to know.
If Justin had hit her again…
Nothing new met him. No extra bruise, the same red, puffy eyes… The tear tracks were different, though. Jaw ticking, he slid his arm under her shoulder and guided her to the truck. When they got to the passenger side, he slid an arm under her knee and one under her back, then lifted her.
She gasped, but he ignored it. He wanted to focus on getting her out of there before Justin came charging down the street. It wasn’t that he was scared of the abusive fuck, he just didn’t want her to see him make Justin eat asphalted.
Not right now, at least.
He closed the door behind her, went around to the other side, hopped in, and threw the backpack in the backseat.
“Do you want me to take you anywhere?” he asked, glancing at her. He still couldn’t believe she had the strength to leave, and honestly, he was scared to ask if it was permanent or not.
She looked at her lap, and he watched her fingers twist.
“No, I—“
Headlights swung around the corner in front of them. Luckily, his truck was off and the lights weren’t on, but she still ducked in her seat.
“Is he home?”
“Any minute,” she whispered, covering her face with her hands. “I asked him to get cheese from the store.”
“And…what had you texting me?” He turned the key in the ignition after the car turned left, and the engine rumbled to life.
She shook her head, straightening herself in the seat. “I don’t want to talk about it. Not…right now.”
“Alright,” he said. Easy as that. He’d let her drop the conversation. It wasn’t his place to comment on it, anyway. Shit, he’d known this woman a total of twenty-four hours? Give or take a few?
And yet, here he was. Helping her get away from her abusive husband. And caring that she did.
“Tell me where you need to go,” he said. With how little she had in the bag, he couldn’t imagine she had much cash on her. And since Justin was abusive, he was willing to bet the guy didn’t give her control of the cards.
“I…I don’t know. My parents—they aren’t aware that this is going on. I haven’t had a chance to contact them. He checks my phone, so… Anyway, just take me to a hotel. I’ll figure it out,” she said, sounding strong more for his sake than hers. Unfortunately for her, he could tune into the tone of her voice and knew she was terrified of going to one.
“I don’t think a hotel would be the best place for you. The only thing separating the two of you would be a door.”
“Gage, I… I’m not sure where else I would go,” she said, hands wringing more violently.
“How about my place?”
Her eyes flipped to him. Wide, beautifully fringed dark eyes flashed to his. “If he found out I was at your house, Justin would… He’d never forgive you. I don’t want to come between your friendship—“
“Frankly,” he said, turning the wheel and pressing on the gas to take them to his house, “I don’t give a shit if he forgives me or not. He’s a wife-beater, Kate. The second I saw the bruise on your face, my friendship with him ended.”
“He’s going to think—“
“Again, don’t give a shit.” He reached over and put a hand on her knee, squeezing gently. “Just trust me. You’ll be safe until we can figure out what steps we have to take next.”
It’s not like he had anything better to do.
Brittany was gone with her new Joey as of this morning. He was done with the Marines and only had his tech business to take back over. And Kate… Well, Kate had no one, it seemed like.
Gage wasn’t one to go out on a limb for a stranger, but she had been taken advantage of. She didn’t deserve to be abandoned with a wife-beater when he had all the capabilities to help. Right now, he wasn’t sure what to do except get her to safety.
In minutes, they were pulling into his driveway.
He turned the keys, and the engine shut off.
She sat there, silent. Probably terrified.
“Listen, I—I’m not going to do anything except keep you safe until you figure out what you want to do,” he said, hating how awkward he sounded. He wished he was better at handling situations like this, but after eleven years in the marines, he was more of a “get it done” kind of guy. He normally didn’t have to “console” anyone.
But this was different.
She was different.
“Let’s get you inside. I have a spare room you can stay in. The security here is better than the Pentagon, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
She nodded, a brief smile crossing her full lips. He stared at that smile, at the small dimple that made an appearance—and then he frowned. He shouldn’t be noticing how gorgeous she was when she smiled—neither should he be noticing how thick and dark her hair was. Just the small shine of the driveway light had her hair glimmering in the dark.
In silence, the two of them got out of the truck and made their way to the front door. When she hesitated at the door, all it took was a gentle touch on the small of her back to get her to move forward.
“The spare room is up the stairs and to the left. If you’re hungry, I can get you something—“
“No, Gage,” she said gently, meeting his eyes. “The last thing I want is food.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. What did someone even say in this situation? The look in her eyes said she wanted something—but it definitely wasn’t food. It wasn’t even a lustful look. It was like she craved something he couldn’t put his finger on.
Gage didn’t like not knowing things, and he wasn’t about to ask, so he sighed and turned on his heel—until her hand touched his arm.
For anyone else, the touch would have had him recoiling.
But not for her. For her, his body didn’t go into instant defense mode. His mind didn’t automatically shut everyone out to retreat into itself.
“I need…something,” she said quietly from behind him.
He turned, raising a brow, unable to stop the way his throat worked to keep down a croak. He didn’t want his mind to slip into the gutter, but that was where it was quickly falling. Into the gutter. Into the dark, deep, lonely abyss that was his own personal gutter-hell.
It wasn’t his fault, he told himself. It was the Marines. It was the absence of touch that had his deprived body instantly reacting to her low tone.
“What is that?” He mentally cursed. His voice was too guttural, too deep. A clear giveaway as to what he was foolishly assuming she wanted. Why would she want him? He was damaged—she had heard as much last night. Shit, not only that, but she was still married. He didn’t know if she was leaving Justin for good or not—and that was huge. He wasn’t about to sexualize a woman who was going to run back to her husband.
“Just someone to sit by me.” Her voice was soft, so different from his own.
He cleared his throat, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah. No—that’s no problem. Uh, there’s movies. Not anything new but…there’s movies.”
A relieved smile lit her face, and he swore he felt all the strain of the situation fall away. Just that one smile had him thinking, This is good. This is normal.
“I’ll grab drinks.”
And clear my head.
He was reading too much into the situation, too much into the emotion in her eyes when she brought herself to meet his.
He left her at the foyer and made a beeline to the kitchen. Son of a bitch, what was going on? The last thing he should be thinking about was sleeping with a married woman—leaving her husband or not. Shit, the last thing he should be thinking about was sleeping with a victim of abuse just minutes after
taking her out of a bad situation.
He was a horrible person.
A horrible, disgusting person who had to get his brain back on track.
That track?
Simply keeping her safe and comfortable, and guide her into a decision if she needed his help.
He grabbed two glasses and filled them with water, then went into the living room.
There, sitting in the corner with one leg bent and the other extended, was the black-haired beauty—no, not beauty. The stranger. She was a stranger who he just happened to be helping out.
He reached for one of the remotes and sat back, glancing at her.
“You’re not going to sleep tonight, are you?” he asked, knowing the feeling all too well.
She gave him a sad, bittersweet smile. “No. Probably not tonight. I’d just like to see a few movies and forget about tonight, just for a little while at least.”
He grunted. Yeah, he definitely understood where she was coming from.
Gage leaned back into the couch, expecting to sit in an unbearable silence.
That expectation came to a halt when he heard the sniffle two minutes later. Not even past the credits, and the waterworks were starting.
He flinched internally. He was a seasoned veteran, not a therapist. He knew how to get people out of situations but not how to help them deal with that emotionally. He cast a glance at her, thinking it would be easy to simply…ignore it.
Wrong.
The second he saw her, with her shoulders curled in, her face tucked into her hands, and her knees drawn up, something inside of him softened. He had seen death and agony right before his very eyes, but nothing compared to seeing this fragile woman shuddering on the seat next to him.
Not when he knew she hadn’t asked for the betrayal of Justin’s sacred vows to protect her. Not when he knew she hadn’t done anything to deserve all of this—hell, no one deserved to be beat on by their spouse, no matter what had happened between them.
Part of Gage was surprised at his reaction to her, but then, how couldn’t he be?
Just that very morning, he had kicked his girlfriend of seven years out of his house. Yeah, with him being deployed all the time, their relationship felt more like a scheduled event than anything, but that was beside the point. He had remained faithful to her when he had had plenty of chances to screw around on his down time, but he hadn’t. He had remained faithful, expecting Brittany to, as well.