I steel myself. He doesn’t get to hurt me again. I will fight him.
“Tom, you need to leave.” I don’t sound convincing.
“Make me.” I hear the anger in his voice, but it is the visual of him, standing there, the anger coming off of him in waves that terrifies me. His normal cool and collected calm mask is discarded, and in front of me is the ex-husband I had divorced, that I moved states away from, who I should have hidden myself away from, not run to a place he knew existed.
“The restraining order said you aren’t allowed to be around me.”
“It’s a piece of paper, Remmington. I just need to tear it up and it disappears.”
It isn’t true, but him being here is proof enough that the restraining order is just that, a piece of paper with no actual protection. He takes a step toward me and I take a step back. I take a step to the left and he mirrors me.
I hear Mia outside, whining to get in. He moves and I move again. A sick and twisted dance is what we are performing. He’s totally screwing with me.
I have only one advantage. I know the house. Where can I go quickly? Where can I hide myself? How can I get out of here? The outside is my best bet. There are several different doors to get out of; I just need to get to one of them. I think about which ones are unlocked. The front door no longer is. My bedroom one is. I just need to run down the hallway.
“Did you really think you could hide from me?” he asks me.
“Wasn’t hiding. I was starting over,” I say as evenly as I can.
“But I’m your husband.”
“Ex.”
“No, Remmington. We exchanged vows. . What’s yours is mine.”
“I don’t belong to you anymore, Tom.”
“Too bad I want what you have.”
My mind turns to an even uglier place than I find myself in. I want to vomit as I think of him forcing himself on me. My fear swallows me. It’s been a year since I really thought he could hurt me again, but suddenly I’m right back in our apartment, the moment right before he threw me down the flight of stairs.
It’s consuming.
“Just come home.”
He takes another step and I realize if he gets any closer to me, my plan for escape will be gone and him taking me or hurting me, or both, will become a reality again. No one would notice me missing until we were long gone. I would vanish from South Shore, maybe from existence.
Mia jars me from my thoughts. I hear her thick head slamming against the glass sliding door. Tom, thinking I was going that way for protection, lunges for me. It is his only mistake for this night. He leaves my path wide open and I take off as fast as I can down the dark hallway, banging my bedroom door shut.
I reach the door to the porch and I feel his hands close around my arms. A scream erupts from my throat. He throws me on the bed, my body bounces once from the force. I catch myself and try to get up, but the back of his hand connects with my cheek. I shield my face from another blow with my hands and he stops, but only long enough to speak.
“You just can’t go along with my plan. Always meddling. Always changing things. And if you weren’t such a rich bitch, I doubt I would care. But I like your money.”
The throbbing pain in my face prevents me from reminding him he got half of my money. I gave it willingly to him. It was plenty for ten people to live on comfortably. I lay there, mute. I have no idea how I am going to get out of this situation, and worse we are in my bedroom and I am already on the bed and my mind goes back to him taking me against my will. It will be easier for him.
My eyes search the dark for anything to grab, anything to be used as a weapon. I hear Mia at this door now. My smart girl, my brave girl, and she couldn’t help me. She is barking furiously and if I had neighbors, maybe they would have heard. But there is no one to hear her, or me.
“Fucking mutt. I should have shot that dog a long time ago.”
He turns away from me to deal with Mia. Like he could; she’d deal with him first. I reach for the lamp sitting by the side of my bed and before he can turn back to see what I am doing, I smash it against the back of his head. He is only stunned, and falls back a few steps, but I lunge for the door, squeezing through and calling for Mia to follow. I run along the porch, knowing he will catch up to me within seconds and I have no car keys on me. We will have to run and he will catch me, and he is already so angry that I’m scared of what he will do when he reaches me.
Tears burn my eyes as I try to stop the paralyzing fear that’s stopping my legs from moving.
That familiar fear shot through me, making my heartbeat peak again as his hand grabs my arm, jerking me around. He falls on top of me, dropping us both, and my head smacks against the wood.
It isn’t Tom’s face I see when I look up though. He is there, but it is Mia’s head that is between our faces, growling low. He had been her master, too once. She is warning him and if only I could communicate to her, he would not give her the chance to bite his fucking head off right now.
His arm comes from the left, clocking Mia and tumbling her frame over, leaving nothing between us now.
“You aren’t worth half of the trouble you cause me.”
And then he howls.
Mia’s jaws lock on to his forearm and no amount of blows from his other arm can sway her. I right myself and find a hammer on the steps Jack and Jared had fixed. I grab it and call for Mia. She doesn’t release him until I call for her several times. She backs away from him, ready to find another piece of him to sink her teeth in. Even in the darkness, I can see his blood has begun to splatter and pool.
The hammer remains raised. “If you think I won’t sic her on you again, you’re wrong. And if you think I won’t smash this hammer across your face before I let you hurt me again, you’re dead wrong. No more, Tom.”
“This is not over, Remmington.”
I know truth is ringing in his words.
“You hang around, the cops will find you, and back to jail you go.”
I can’t tell if he understands the weight of my words. I really don’t. He continues to stare at me as Mia continues to growl and my hand sweats as it holds the hammer.
Slowly, he backs off the porch. I watch him leave before darting into the house, grabbing my cellphone and keys off the dining room table. Mia follows me into the bathroom and I quickly lock us in. I dial 911 and don’t relax until I hear the sirens outside my house. I don’t let the hammer out of my hand until I see the police officer on my porch.
Tom had taken everything from me, and now he was here to take South Shore, too.
***
I should have been more relieved when I see Steve pull up if I really liked the guy. I should have been running into his arms. I should have called him immediately after 911 hung up with me. There are a lot of should haves when it comes to Steve.
I sit where I am, on my porch, scrubbing Tom’s blood away. I have been scrubbing for a half hour. I am going to have to paint the damn porch. Maybe I will just rip it down and start a new one.
“Are you okay?” he asks me. I realize he should have run to the porch, not sauntered up. I realized he should have been here within ten minutes if he really was concerned, not thirty minutes.
I look up at him and the sight of the black mark on the right side of my face surprises him. I had gotten this look before. It’s the shock of a girl sporting a black eye who had clearly been hit. It’s a look of disgust that someone could hurt another person.
“I’m fine,” I say and realize it’s somewhat true. This obviously wasn’t my first time with Tom. I am aware enough that I need a security system. I am aware enough that the cops wouldn’t be finding Tom anytime soon because I just wasn’t that lucky. I would go to work today and I would be fine. Because that is what I did. It would be fine.
If last night was painful, this is painfully awkward. I let out an exasperated sigh. I don’t like him. I don’t want to sleep with him. Oh hell, I could barely tolerate him.
“It’s over, Stev
e, if it really even began.”
“Here I was wondering how I was going to break up with you.”
“I just got the crap knocked out of me and you were going to break up with me? You’re such a douche.”
“You just broke up with me, Remmington.”
“Yeah, so?”
I know I just told him it was over, but seriously he was going to break up with me. That’s like breaking up with someone at her grandmother’s funeral. You just don’t do it. But he is bad news. Jack had said it. He had done nothing but try and get in my pants, and if someone took the bet, I would bet he had been fucking whoever he could while he wore me down.
“Do you still want my dad’s company to take care of your property?”
“How did I tolerate you?”
“He wanted me to ask.”
“What are you? Sixteen? I’ll find a new company. Get off my property, Steve. I quit your softball team, too.”
He shrugs his shoulders and turns to leave. Mia, the protector, as I have dubbed her, brings him up short. She’s not tense at all and I shouldn’t say it, but I do. “You know she’s the one who scared him away?” It’s surprising to him, it’s on his face. Mia’s so friendly to everyone. “Careful, Steve, there still may be blood in her mouth.” He looks back at me, uncertain of Mia at this point, the loveable dog he knows. “Leave before she tears into you too.”
He must realize I’m screwing with him. He turns and leaves without another word. Mia’s head follows him to his car. She climbs up the steps and curls up in the shade. I go back to scrubbing my ex-husband’s blood out of my porch.
I sure know how to pick them.
Chapter 14
JM
Jared’s waiting at the site when I pull up. We’ve been friends long enough for me to know when he’s upset. I park my truck and hop out.
“What’s up?” I ask as I shut the door.
“You talk to anyone today?”
“No,” I say simply and wait for him to spit out what he’s got to say.
He pushes out a long breath. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but last night, at Remy’s, her ex dropped by and paid her a visit,” and my heart drops.
He doesn’t continue. “Jared! Christ! What?”
“Mark told me that bastard attacked her and that bear of a dog of hers got him in the arm and he took off.”
I want to throw up. I want to punch something. I want to find her. How could this have happened? How did she find such a son-of-a-bitch? Because you didn’t chase after her, I say to myself.
“I know you guys are staying away from each other, but I thought you should know.”
“What else did Mark say?”
“Not much else. I think he was hoping I would tell you.”
“She in the hospital?”
“I don’t think so, man.”
I turn and head back to my truck. I need to see her.
“Dude, it’s seven in the morning. She probably is still sleeping. She needs to sleep.”
I pause at my door deciding if pounding on her door this early in the morning is appropriate. There is a part of me that doesn’t care if it is or not. I need to see her. I need to know she’s okay with my own two eyes.
I rest my hands on the side of my truck bed and lean over, looking at the dirt, fighting everything I’m feeling; the anger, the fear, the uncontrollable urge to punch something.
“Dude,” Jared starts. “She’s okay.”
Okay is not good enough, I think to myself. Someone like my Remy deserves so much better than the life she got dealt. And if I had manned up sooner, and left Amber like I knew was best for both of us, I could have been at Remy’s last night. He wouldn’t have been able to come near her.
I straighten and before I think, my knuckles slam into the side of my truck. I imagine it’s her douche bag of an ex’s face. The release of the adrenaline is helpful because the pain in my hand is distracting.
“Relax,” I hear Jared say.
“Would you?” I snap at him.
“No, and hey, I love her too. She’s part of my favorite summer. She still makes me laugh. I want to beat the guy up too, but you breaking your hand does nothing for you or her or your dad.”
I flex my hand, focusing on the pain. I can’t tell him that’s it’s calming to me. I can’t tell him I’m leaving Amber; I need to tell her first. I can’t tell him how afraid I am that Remy won’t want to try it again with me. She doesn’t seem to believe in love anymore. I just need fuckin’ answers and I don’t have any. None.
“Shoot her a text? I got her number.”
It sounds so lame. Texting her after I haven’t talked to her in a few weeks besides to order a beer.
“What am I supposed to say? Hey, heard your ex beat the crap out of you. Hope you’re okay?”
He nods his head. He agrees and his lack of suggestion shows he’s got nothing either.
“Let’s do some work. We can run by her house at noon.”
I don’t want him to come with me for the first time since that summer.
“Listen, I want to see her, too. But if I go with you, you can blame it on me, if Amber finds out. Because it’s going to look like you are rushing off to see her, to protect her, to help her.”
Look like that? It is that.
“Okay,” I say. I try to think of something happy. I think of Remy being crazy and getting me to do something ridiculous, instead.
“Let’s go swing some hammers,” he says and we work through the morning. My only comfort is beating the shit out of the nails and pounding them into the boards. I exhaust myself and by noon, my aching arm is ready for the reprieve.
We don’t say anything; we just lay down our tools and head to Jared’s truck. We hop in and he takes off for Remy’s, and by his speed, I think he really might be as anxious as I am to see her, to make sure she’s still in one piece. We pull into her driveway and her jeep isn’t there. Jared doesn’t wait, but hops out and jumps on to the porch and I’m right behind him.
He knocks.
“You don’t think she’s working today?” he says to me.
We wait for another minute and I knock this time, a little harder and a little longer.
The words: “I can’t imagine she’s at work,” come out of Jared’s mouth and I know she’s there. I am sure of it, actually. Far be it for Remy to lay low or sit around doing nothing. We, again, wordlessly head to the truck and head to Joe’s.
Her jeep is in the parking lot when we pull in.
“I can’t say I’m surprised,” is Jared’s only phrase as we get out.
I pause before we hit the porch of the bar. I’ve wanted to see her since I found out. And now, I’m going to see her and I am unsure. I don’t know what to expect. She said she doesn’t want anything from me, that we don’t have a future and I agreed. So what does she need from me? I’m sure countless people are going to stare at her, ask questions, bring it up all the time.
“You okay?” Jared asks me.
“What do I say to her?” I ask him, needing my friend to help me.
He’s at the door, looking at me in confusion. He, too, is unsure of what to say to a girl whose ex attacked her. It’s like going to a funeral; no one knows what to say because there’s nothing to make it better. “I don’t know, dude. I think we should just let her know we’re here. Maybe we don’t say anything. Maybe she talks. Maybe we just start with ordering a beer. But I’m going in and so are you.”
I was going in, even if she didn’t want a future with me, a point that I still, obviously, hadn’t digested.
I follow Jared in and she’s there, blonde hair down with a green tank top on; her back is to us. We walk up and we sit down. I see her peek her head up in the mirror and know she saw us.
I don’t know what to expect when she turns and faces us. I half expect her to have bandage over her nose, stitches, a bruise that encompasses her whole face, but the black eye and sad smile that she gives us when she turns is worse. I don’t k
now if I’ve ever seen Remy this way, this defeated.
She wets her lips and breathes deep. Jared and I are staring like fools, inconsiderate fools, but I can’t turn away; I can’t think of anything to say.
“Two beers?”
I nod and Jared says yes.
“Come to get a few beers on lunch or come to see how I was doing?”
“The latter, “ is what Jared says. I’m glad he responded because all I can see is the bruise lining her eye. I see her ex’s face and I want to hurt him ten-fold. I can’t believe anyone would ever do that to her.
“I’m okay,” she says, the sad smile remaining. “He’s done worse before. I can handle this.” My stomach drops to the floor. I don’t have the guts to ask what worse is, but what I had first imagined springs to mind.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” Jared says awkwardly. I know he’s giving me time with her now that he’s seen she’s breathing and moving about.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask the moment Jared is out of earshot. We’re alone and I’m hoping she trusts me enough to tell me the truth.
“Yeah,” she says quickly and picks up a beer bottle three feet down.
“I don’t believe you, Remy.”
“Not your place, Jack.”
“How can you say that to me? Me of all people, Remmington.”
“We’ve gone over this, Jack. The most we are going to be is bartender and patron. I deal with your dad when it comes to the business. You don’t have the right to ask me how I’m doing. We don’t have that type of relationship where you need to be concerned.”
“Remy,” I say, hurt that she would think that I wouldn’t be concerned. “How could you think I wouldn’t?”
“Listen, Jack, there’s nothing you could have done, friend or not friend. Tom got me by myself, he got one good swing in and Mia scared the shit out of him, and I called the cops.”
“He hit you,” I state, shocked and appalled how any man could hit a woman, and even more so how anyone could hit someone like Remy, even though I knew he had hit her. He loved her once and he left that black mark on her face. I just didn’t get it, but the one thing I did get was another feeling, the territorial one. If I ever saw that son-of-a-bitch I was going to kick the shit out of him, friend or not, no one was going to hurt Remy again.
That Summer Page 12