by Todd, E. L.
She flinched. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“I can see the bruises on your face. I’m not stupid.”
Her eyes widened in fear.
“I won’t tell anyone,” he said quickly. “But please let me help. I’ve helped many women escape their abusers. I can help you too.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m fine.”
Coen sighed in annoyance. He turned to the cabinet and pulled out a business card then scribbled his number on the back. He handed it to her. “If you need help, please call me. I live five minutes from here.”
She stared at him for a moment before she took the card.
Coen wished he could do more, but he couldn’t help someone who didn’t want to be helped. At least she took the card.
They walked to the front desk where she checked out.
“Thank you for the session,” she said as she smiled at him.
Coen rested his left hand on the counter, in plain sight. His wedding band shined under the florescent lights. “Of course.”
“Bye.” She left the building and walked to her car.
Coen watched her go with a heavy heart. He sincerely hoped that his training would save her life.
He finished the workday with his other clients, and by the time he was done, he was covered in sweat and exhausted. He showered in the locker room then left the building.
He texted Derek. When are we meeting?
We’re already here.
Be there in 5.
Coen drove to the restaurant and saw his friends sitting at the bar. He took his seat at the end, next to Henry. “What’s up?”
“The Seahawks just scored,” Henry said.
Coen ordered a beer and watched the game.
“How’s Sydney doing?” Thatcher asked.
“She’s still really unwell,” Coen said sadly. “I might take her back to the doctor to make sure everything is okay.”
Thatcher nodded. “I don’t mean to overstep my boundary, but is she pregnant?”
“No,” Coen said quickly. “I had her take a pregnancy test.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Henry asked.
Thatcher looked at him. “She was tired and had no appetite for a long time. Those are common symptoms of a pregnancy.”
Henry nodded. “Well, that must have been a relief for you, Coen.”
Coen shrugged. “Having kids scares me, but now that I’m married, it’s not so frightening. Sydney would be a great mom. The best.”
“If you want your kids to be vegetarians,” Derek said with a laugh.
Coen smiled. “Sydney wouldn’t do that.”
The bartender approached Derek. “This is from the lady in red.” He placed the beer in front of him then walked off.
Derek eyed it but didn’t touch it. “Now that I have a girlfriend, I get hit on all the time. It’s so weird.”
Thatcher smiled. “They know you are boyfriend material.”
“So you must get hit on like crazy,” Derek said.
“It’s about the same,” Thatcher said as he watched the TV.
“Because you’re a dreamy artist,” Henry said.
All the guys looked at him, their eyebrows raised.
“I love Ren,” Henry said quickly.
They all laughed then looked away.
Coen turned to Henry. “When are you proposing?”
“Soon,” he said. “I’m so excited and so nervous at the same time.”
“You’ll be overjoyed when she says yes,” Coen said.
“How did you propose?” Henry asked.
“You were there,” Coen said.
“When you did it at school in front of Audrey?”
Coen nodded.
“But that was fake,” Henry said.
“Not for me,” Coen said. “I had the ring I gave her engraved with her name. I knew I would never want that ring back.”
Thatcher nodded. “That’s the best proposal I’ve ever heard.”
“Damn,” Henry said. “Maybe mine isn’t good enough.”
“It’s perfect,” Thatcher said. “It’s just right for the two of you.”
“How are you going to ask?” Coen said.
Thatcher drank from his beer. “It’s a surprise.”
Derek sighed. “I’m going to ask her with a surf board. I think that will work.”
“Those are all great ideas,” Thatcher said.
Coen sipped his beer while he watched the game. It was nice to be out of the house even though he missed Sydney. He wished she wasn’t sick so they could go swimming or out to dinner. Her cough attacks made it impossible for her to leave the house. The only good thing was she was getting a lot of work done in bed. She still did research, but she organized data and papers that his uncle would send her.
Someone sat in the empty chair next to him. “Hey.”
Coen turned and saw Casey. “Oh hi.” He wasn’t expecting to see her.
“How are you?”
“Good,” he said. “I’m just watching the game with my friends.” That was his polite way of getting rid of her. He didn’t want her to be abused or beaten, but he didn’t want a friendship with her outside the gym. He already had plenty of friends and a wife.
She stared at him for a long time. “Thank you for training me. I was so nervous. I’ve never done that before.”
“I’m just doing my job,” he said.
“Have you been doing it long?”
Coen felt Henry stare at him, watching his every move. He was irritated that Henry felt the need to keep an eye on him. “For a few years.” He rested his left hand on the table so she would realize he was married.
She nodded. “Were you—ever scared?”
“Scared of what?” he asked.
“Of someone hurting you…”
“No,” he said. “Why?”
“Why are you a self-defense instructor?”
Coen would never tell anyone besides Sydney. “It’s just a passion. I like helping other people.”
“Well, I appreciate all the help.”
“You’re very welcome,” he said. “It was nice seeing you.” He dismissed her and waited for her to leave.
She didn’t move. She stared past his shoulder and her eyes widened.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said quickly. She looked at the television.
“I should get back to my friends.” He dismissed her again.
“Oh…okay.” She slid off the chair then walked away.
Henry was staring at him. “Who was that?”
“A client,” Coen snapped.
Henry turned away and looked at the TV.
Coen watched Casey return to a table with her friends. She seemed sad, like his rejection had stung her. He didn’t care if she was hurt. He practically waved his marital status in her face. When a man approached their table, large and beefy, Coen watched how Casey cowered. His shoulders tense and her lips lost their smile. Her eyes were hollow and empty. Her friends didn’t seem to notice the change in body language. The man gripped her by the arm, yanking her from the chair. Coen felt his heart accelerate.
The man dragged her out of the restaurant. Her friends didn’t seem to think anything was odd.
Coen sat there, trying to figure out what to do. It wasn’t his problem but he couldn’t do nothing. “Shit.” He pushed his beer away and walked off. His friends turned and watched him go.
Coen opened the door and walked into the parking lot. When he heard the sound of yelling, he immediately moved toward the noise.
“You said you were staying home tonight,” the man said as he pinned her against the door of ha truck.
Casey was shaking. “You said you were staying home tonight too, but here you are.”
“I’m a man!” He shook her. “I can do whatever I want.”
“So can I!”
He slapped her across the face. “Don’t talk to me like that.”
C
oen ran and pushed him to the ground. His anger burst from his body, giving him adrenaline and strength. “Touch her and I’ll kill you.”
The man got to his feet then glared at Coen.
“Leave,” he said.
“I suggest you leave, boy.”
Coen kept his ground. “Touch her again, and I’ll make you pay. A man’s strength comes from his protection of others, not his abuse. Leave her alone.”
“Who the fuck is this guy?” he demanded, looking at her. “You’ve been cheating?”
“No,” she said quickly.
The man pushed Coen. “Get out of here.”
Coen grabbed him by the arm then kicked him in the stomach and the groin before the man could react.
He fell to the ground.
“I warned you,” Coen said. “Now go and leave her alone.”
The man stood up and stared Coen down. “You’re lucky I don’t have my knife.”
“I wish you did so I could stab you,” Coen said calmly.
He threw a punch, but Coen blocked it and returned with his own strike.
“I’m a professional fighter. I suggest you walk away.”
“Fucking asshole,” the man mumbled. The guy stumbled away into the darkness, getting into his car.
When he was gone, Casey was in tears.
Coen turned to her. “Are you okay?”
She shook her head then moved into his arms, hugging him.
Coen stilled at the unexpected affection. He kept his arms up, not touching her.
“Thank you so much.”
“Yeah…”
She cried into his chest. “I can’t get away from him.”
Coen kept his hands up. He hated it when girls hugged him. He felt like he was cheating on Sydney. “Is he your ex-boyfriend?”
“I wish,” she said. “I keep trying to end the relationship but he won’t let me.”
Coen tried to pull away but she gripped him tighter.
Henry walked outside then stared at Coen.
Coen felt his heart accelerate. He pulled away from Casey. “He shouldn’t bother you again.”
She wiped her tears away. “I hope so.”
“You’ll be okay. You have my number if you need me.”
“Thank you so much.”
“I should go.”
“Oh…okay.”
Coen walked away then moved passed Henry, going back inside.
Henry followed him. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” Coen said.
Henry grabbed his shoulder. “It didn’t look like nothing.” His anger was shining through his eyes.
Coen stepped back. “Don’t touch me.”
Henry glared at him. “Answer me.”
“It’s none of your business what it was.”
“I’ll see if Sydney feels the same way.”
Coen pushed him. “You really think I’d cheat on my wife? I know you’ve always thought you were better for her than me, but you aren’t. Drop it.”
“Then explain yourself.”
Coen glared at him. “I don’t owe you an explanation. It’s a private matter.”
Henry didn’t look convinced.
“I’m pissed that you’d assume I’d betray Sydney.”
Henry sighed. “She’s my best friend. I’m sorry. It’s in my nature to look out for her.”
“Have a little faith.” Coen walked back to the bar, feeling the anger wash through him. He was glad he spared Casey but he wished Henry hadn’t seen it. It didn’t look good. Sydney would completely understand the situation. He wasn’t worried that she would get the wrong impression. Their relationship was built on trust. Nothing could break that.
8
When Coen came home, Sydney was already asleep. He put the ice cream in the freezer, did the laundry, and tidied up the house before he went to bed. A bottle of Nyquil was on the nightstand, and Sydney was snoring like a baby.
Coen got into bed then kissed her forehead. He hated seeing her so decimated by the illness. He stared at her for a long time before he fell asleep. His phone rang, waking him up. He grabbed it from the dresser and looked at the number. He didn’t recognize it.
“Hello?” he whispered.
It was a woman, sounding frightened. “Coen?”
“Casey?”
“Help me,” she pleaded.
His heart raced. He glanced at Sydney, seeing that she was still sound asleep. He left the bedroom then moved into the living room. “Are you okay?”
“He won’t leave.”
“Your ex?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “He keeps trying to break down my door.”
“Call the police,” he said immediately.
“No, he’ll hurt me more if I do.”
Coen felt his anger bubble to the surface. “What’s your address?”
She told him and he wrote it down.
“I’m on my way,” he said.
“Hurry.”
Coen hung up then left the house. When he looked at the time, he realized it was two in the morning. Hopefully, Sydney wouldn’t realize he was gone. He drove to the address as fast as he could, speeding the entire way. Luckily, there were no cops on the road. He drove up the driveway then jumped out of the car. When he tried the front door, it was locked. Sounds of yelling could be heard inside.
Coen took out his pocket knife then picked the lock. After a few tries, he was successful. He burst into the door then ran down the hallway. The man was trying to break down the door with a bat. Coen realized how serious this was.
He shoved the man to the ground, kicked the bat away, and punched him ten times in a row. The blood poured out of his nose and face. Coen was so angry he could barely control himself. It was his sister all over again. When he finally stepped back, blood was dripping from his knuckles.
The guy slowly got to his feet, breathing heavily. “Why the fuck are you here?”
“He’s my boyfriend!” Casey shouted.
“Whoa…wait,” Coen said.
“It’s you?” the man said.
“She’s moved on,” Coen said. “Leave her alone or I’ll kill you. I swear.” He picked up the bat and spun it in his wrist.
The man eyed it warily.
“I suggest you leave and don’t come back,” Coen threatened.
He moved around Coen then bolted out of the front door.
When Coen looked at the bedroom door, it was caved in from the bat. “Are you okay?”
She unlocked it and opened it. “Thank you so much.” She jumped into his arms.
Coen felt awkward again. He stepped back. “Please don’t hug me.”
She looked like she had been slapped. “I’m sorry…”
“I’m married.”
“Oh.”
“I’m happily married,” he added.
She said nothing.
“If that didn’t scare him off for good, I don’t know what will.”
She fidgeted in place. “Why are you helping me?”
Coen stared at her. “Because I want to.”
“Jeremy isn’t someone you want to mess with him.”
“He is if he keeps bothering you,” Coen said. “Let me know if he comes back.”
“I hope he doesn’t,” Casey said. “I’m so sick of this. I need to get out.”
Coen stared at her dark brown hair and blue eyes. In the darkness, she looked like Theresa. Maybe it was just his imagination, but that’s what he saw. It made his heart hurt. “I’ll keep you safe,” he blurted.
She stared at him.
“Do you have somewhere else to say?”
“No,” she said quietly.
Coen crossed his arms over his chest. “You have my number if you need me. But if this doesn’t stop, you should call the police.”
“Please don’t tell anyone,” she blurted.
“I won’t call the cops.”
“I mean anyone,” she said. “I don’t want anyone to know. Promise me.”
“Why are
you trying to hide it?”
“Because it’s embarrassing,” she said. “I have an abusive boyfriend. I don’t want anyone to know that. That’s why I came to you, hoping I could take care of it myself.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” he said.
“Promise me.”
“I promise not to tell anyone but my wife.”
Her eyes widened. “I said anyone.”
“I tell her everything.”
“No,” she snapped.
“She’s been through something very similar,” Coen said. “She would never judge you.”
“Coen, I mean it. Can I trust you or not?”
He sighed.
“According to that paperwork at the gym, everything has to be confidential. I wouldn’t have trusted you without that reassurance.”
“Okay, okay.”
She seemed relieved. “And I didn’t know you were married. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.”
“I just didn’t want to give you the wrong impression.”
“She’s a very lucky lady.”
“I’m the lucky one,” he said automatically.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Now what do I do?”
“Move on,” he said. “If Jeremy comes back, let me know.”
“Now that he thinks you’re my boyfriend, he probably won’t show up again.”
“I hope so,” Coen said.
“Do you do this a lot?” she asked.
“What?”
“Help strangers.”
He shrugged. “I guess. It’s how I met my wife.”
“Why are you doing this?”
He was quiet for a moment. “I lost someone very close to me. I vowed not to let it happen to anyone else.” He stared at her. “And you remind me of her. I feel like I have to protect you.”
“Who was it?” she asked quietly.
“My—my sister.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He nodded.
They stood there in silence for a long time.
“I should go,” Coen said. “Before my wife notices I’m gone.”
“Yeah.”
“Will you be okay?”
She looked around the house. “I’ll manage.”
“Call me if you need anything,” Coen said. “Anything.”
“Thank you so much.”