Ravage (Civil Corruption Book 4)

by Jessica Prince

  “It’s good,” I said. “It’s surprisingly good. I’m actually thinking of taking graduate classes.”

  “Really? In what?”

  “I’m not sure yet, but I have time to figure it out. I haven’t thought about what I wanted to do for the longest time, and it’s a little foreign to me.”

  She smiled happily, that kind of smile that only a friend who wanted the best for someone she cared about could have. “That’s so awesome, babe,” she replied, still speaking softly. “I’m glad you’re finally doing something for you.”

  “It’s strange,” I admitted, thinking out loud more than speaking directly to her. “For so long, what I wanted didn’t matter. Daniel….” I stopped to swallow. “He didn’t care about what I wanted, only what I could do for him.”

  “Sweetie….”

  We stopped talking long enough for the waitress to take our lunch orders. Once she was gone, I continued.

  “Mace is all for it. In fact, he’s the one who kinda pushed me into it. He wanted me to have something to do other than watching over him, something I’d enjoy.”

  Ava’s eyes grew wet and glassy as her chin quivered. “Oh, Lyla.”

  “Stop,” I commanded teasingly. “None of that now. If you cry, I’m gonna cry, so knock it off.”

  “Sorry, sorry.” Lifting her hands, she waved at her eyes while staring up toward the ceiling. “I’ll stop. Promise.”

  It took her a few more seconds and a couple more sniffles, but she finally got a hold of herself. “Okay. I’m good now. Promise. I’m just so damn happy for you, honey. After what that asshole put you through, for years….”

  “I know,” I whispered, my throat scratchy with emotion.

  “Okay,” she declared, clapping determinedly. “On to happier topics. What’s it like bedding down with that hottie rocker of yours?”

  “First of all,” I started with a fake scowl, “we aren’t bedding down. And secondly, he’s not mine.”

  She scrunched her face and muttered “Uh huh,” clearly not buying what I was trying to sell. “If you say so.”

  “God, you sound just like Stone. Both pains in my ass.”

  “Mmm.” she hummed with pleasure, closing her eyes and giving a little shiver. “Stone Hendrix. Dayum. And speaking of asses… I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more perfect one in all my life.”

  “Don’t even think about it,” I chided. “That man is all kinds of trouble. I love him, but I love you too, and he’d chew you up and spit you out.”

  “Yeah, but just think of how much fun it would be before that.”

  “Okay, yuck. No more waxing poetic about a dude who’s like a brother to me. Please? I haven’t even eaten yet and I already feel nauseous.”

  She laughed but thankfully changed the subject. Unfortunately, she changed it back to Mace. “So spill! I know you’re holding something back from me. Tell me what’s goin’ on.”

  Continuing to argue wasn’t going to do me a damn bit of good, and I was already struggling with everything I was feeling on my own. I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore; I needed an ear to vent to or I was going to lose my mind.

  Placing my elbows on the table, I scrubbed at my face in agitation. “I’m so screwed, Av. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  The waiter appeared again with our meals. Once they were set in place and we were alone again, Ava leaned in and reached both arms across the table. Reading her meaning, I placed my hands in hers so she could hold them tight. “Talk to me, honey. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “I’m crazy about him,” I confessed painfully, still holding her hands but staring down at my chicken Caesar salad. “I fell in love with him when I was ten years old. It wasn’t that naïve, little girl kind of love—I mean I really loved him. For seven years. Then I finally found the courage to tell him the truth, and he broke my heart. It took me years to get over him, Av, years. I promised myself I was never going to settle. I was going to find a guy who adored me, who I loved just as much, and I wasn’t going to accept any less than what I deserved. And look what I did. I didn’t just settle. I lowered the goddamn bar.”

  “You didn’t know, Lyla. None of us knew. Daniel fooled everyone.”

  “That’s not true,” I whispered with a sad shake of my head. “I sensed things were off. The signs were there. I was even having second thoughts before we got married, but I told myself it was because I hadn’t completely let go of Mace. I convinced myself that I wasn’t giving Daniel a fair chance because of Mace. If that’s not denial, I don’t know what is.”

  “You have got to stop blaming yourself. It wasn’t your fault. You fought to keep something you thought was right. That’s not a weakness, that’s strength. Giving up is easy, but you didn’t do that. You gave your marriage every single chance, doing everything in your power to make it better before you finally threw in the towel. Not many people can say that.”

  I’d never stopped to think of it like that. It was easier to place the blame on myself for getting into that relationship in the first place than to accept why I’d fought so hard. And I’d fought for it because I didn’t want to have any regrets. I never wanted to have to say I didn’t try hard enough. I was hoping the group I’d joined would help me get there.

  “So you were in love with him and he broke your heart. Is that why you’re hesitant to go there again?”

  “No. Well, not completely. I’ll admit it was hard to let that go at first, but I think I have. I’m not bitter about it anymore.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “He almost died, Ava. I told you that. That’s why I had to fly all the way to Prague, because he nearly drank himself to death. Daniel was a drunk. How stupid would I be to get tangled up in another guy with the same damn problem?”

  She examined me closely in that way a BFF does when she can pretty much read your mind. “You’re scared.”

  “I’m terrified.”

  “Of what? Of Mace getting drunk and beating the hell out of you, or of taking another risk on him and being hurt again?”

  Damn her and her stupid perceptiveness. “Mace would never hurt me physically,” I insisted passionately. “Never.”

  Her smile was small and full of empathy as she spoke. “Then there you have it, honey.”

  My head tilted in confusion. “There I have what?”

  She propped her forearms on the table and clasped her hands. “Look, there’s one simple way to figure this out. Answer this question for me: What’s the worse outcome? That you take your shot and it doesn’t work out, or that you don’t and never know if you missed out on something amazing?”

  I knew without having to give it any thought. Instead of answering flat-out, I pinched my face into a glare and said, “You know, you’re really freaking annoying when you’re being all intuitive and shit.”

  She grinned triumphantly and picked up her fork to spear a piece of lettuce. “Don’t hate just because I’m awesome like that.”

  She didn’t need me to say anything else to know she’d hit the nail on the head, and being the amazing friend she was, she let it drop without pressing me any further. We finished our lunch on more pleasant conversation, and spent five minutes hugging and going on about how much we’d miss each other before parting ways.

  But as I drove back to my parents’ house I kept replaying the question over and over in my head. And every single time the answer was same.

  No doubt about it. It would be worse to never know.

  Well shit.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Lyla

  Wiping the tears from my eyes, I looked around the circle of women to see they were all having the same emotional response to my story as I was. They all cared. They all had a stake in me taking my power back, just as I had a stake in them doing the same.

  I’d finally shared my story. The whole story, from Daniel to the loss of Will to nearly losing Mace to alcohol.

  Mace and I had returned from San Francisco a week and a half a
go. This was my third meeting in that time, my fourth total, and I’d finally shared every ugly detail of my struggle, and the emotional damage it had left me with.

  Rebecca, the woman who led the group, looked at me with a small smile. “Thank you for sharing, Lyla. You’ve experienced so much trauma in such a short amount of time. I understand that wasn’t easy for you to share. We all do. But if you take anything away from today’s meeting, I hope it’s that this is a safe place. We’re here for you in any way you need. And most importantly, you hold no fault for what happened in your marriage.”

  I ducked my head, shyness creeping in after everything I’d just spoken out loud. “I think I’m finally starting to realize that. It’s just taking a little longer for me to accept it.”

  The woman who’d been sitting next to me, Kate, reached out and placed a soothing hand on my shoulder, and I turned to give her an appreciative grin.

  “You’ll get there,” Rebecca said gently. “And we’ll be there every step of the way to help as long as you’ll let us.”

  “Thank you.”

  Rebecca took in the other faces in the circle and finally declared, “I think that’s a good place to stop for today. I hope to see you all again next week.”

  We stood and began folding our own chairs, placing them against the back wall.

  Kate caught up with me as I hooked my purse over my shoulder and started out the door. “That was really brave of you, sharing today. There are women in there who’ve been here for months and still haven’t told their stories. I’m proud of you for speaking up.”

  “Thanks. I knew it would be hard, but having all of you there while I relived what Daniel did to me helped more than I could’ve imagined.”

  “Well, I’m happy we were able to give you that.” She glanced at something over my shoulder and smiled a slow, knowing grin. “Don’t look now, but there’s a really hot dude in a ballcap watching you like a lollipop he can’t wait to lick.”

  “What?” I laughed and turned my head, everything in my body going cold at the sight of him. “Uh, Kate, I have to go. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, totally,” I lied. “I just forgot there’s somewhere I need to be.”

  That seemed to placate her. “Okay. But I’ll see you in group next week?”

  “I’ll be here.”

  “See you then.”

  She started in the opposite direction, and I watched for several seconds before finding the courage to turn around again.

  Mace was standing a foot away, his face like thunder as he asked on a growl, “What the fuck did I just hear?”

  Oh god.

  Mace

  Lyla stared with wide, panicked eyes. “Mace, please—”

  “Answer the fuckin’ question,” I barked. “What the fuck did I just hear?”

  A couple of the women who’d come out of that room with Lyla stopped and watched, all with leery expressions on their faces. She caught them staring just the same as I had.

  “It’s okay,” she said to them. “I promise it’s okay. He’s a close friend.” Then she turned back to me, grabbed my hand, and yanked me through the double glass doors and down the sidewalk. Once she stopped, she spun on me and snapped, “You need to lower your voice. Those women in there are sensitive to loud outbursts from men, so you need to be quiet.”

  Pulling a deep breath in through my nose, I did my best to calm the rage boiling in my blood. She’d left the house two hours ago saying she was going shopping with Tate and Gina, so when I walked into the rec center a few minutes before my AA meeting was about to start and saw her walking out with a girl who was telling her how brave she was for sharing her story, I was obviously surprised. Lyla had already caught my attention by being there, but hearing that held it, and when I heard her tell the girl it was hard to relive what that asshole ex-husband of hers had done to her, I went on red alert.

  What the hell had that meant? And what did I just catch her walking out of?

  “I’m calm,” I stated flatly. “But you need to start talkin’. What was that in there?”

  She chewed on her lip anxiously as dread seeped into my bones and every hair on my body stood on end.

  “Lyla,” I pushed, desperate for an answer while terrified of hearing it all at the same time.

  “Why are you even here?” she bit out, getting defensive in order to avoid my question. “Are you following me?”

  “My meeting’s here, Lyla.”

  “Shit,” she hissed, raking a hand through her hair. “I didn’t realize.”

  “Stop avoiding the question. Tell me what the fuck that was in there.”

  She hesitated for several seconds. “It’s a support group,” she finally whispered so quietly it was a struggle to hear her.

  “A support group for what?”

  Her eyes stayed downcast, but there was no missing the tear that trickled down her cheek. “For women who suffer from domestic abuse.”

  Fuck me.

  Fuck me.

  Fuck me!

  Every muscle and tendon in my body strung so goddamn tight I thought I might snap right in half. I saw nothing but red. I wanted to put my fist through a fucking car window. I wanted to beat them against the cars around us until they were bloody and broken. But I couldn’t do that.

  Fuck me!

  “Domestic abuse?”

  “Mace, just listen—”

  “Domestic abuse?”

  “Please, just—”

  “Domestic fucking abuse?” I shouted, making her jump. At seeing that, my rage bubbled over.

  “Don’t be scared of me,” I growled in a low, ominous voice. “Don’t ever be scared of me. Not you. I’d never fuckin’ hurt you. I’d die before I hurt you.”

  “I know that,” she whispered. “I know, Mace. Please, just calm down. I’ll explain it all—”

  “Explain what? Explain how that motherfucker put his hands on you? Explain that it wounded you in a way that you have to go to meetings to deal with it?”

  “Look, I know you’re upset I didn’t tell you, but if you’ll let me—”

  “Damn fuckin’ right I’m upset! That cocksucker put his hands on you! He hurt you! He beat you! You! You’re mine. You’ve always been mine, and I wasn’t there to fuckin’ protect you!”

  Lyla sucked in a shocked gasp. “Mace,” she said quietly. “Honey….” She reached out to touch my hand, but I shot back a step.

  “Don’t. You don’t wanna touch me right now, Lyla.”

  I saw her honey eyes glisten with tears beneath the harsh glare of the lights illuminating the parking lot. “Please,” she continued to plead, her voice cracking. “Please just let me come to you. Let me touch you.”

  “Not right now,” I ordered, moving back again. “You don’t wanna be around me right now, Goldie.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “No I’m not. You just walked out of a meeting with a bunch of other abuse victims, and all I wanna do is hunt that fucker down and beat him to death. You do not want to be around me right now.”

  “I know it’s a lot to process right now, but if you’ll give me time to explain everything, you’ll understand why I kept it from you.”

  That gave me pause. “You think I’m pissed at you?”

  “Well….” She swallowed audibly. “Aren’t you?”

  I’d had all I could take. I was overflowing with fury and moments away from snapping. I needed to get out of there before I did something stupid that I’d regret for the rest of my life.

  “I have to go.” I took another step back and began to turn when her hand shot out and grasped mine.

  “Mace, wait.”

  “No. I just need to get outta here. I’ll see you at home.”

  “But… what about your meeting?”

  “It’s cool. I’ll catch another one. See you later.”

  With that, I spun around and took off toward my car, leaving a tearful Lyla behind.

  Chapter Tw
enty-Eight

  Lyla

  I drove around the city for hours, too terrified to go home. Terrified that Mace wouldn’t be there. Terrified he would, but that he’d be drunk. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but my mind kept taking me through every worst-case scenario until I convinced myself I’d be walking into a nightmare.

  It got late, and I had no choice but to finally head back to the house. When I pulled into the drive, the first thing I noticed was Mace’s car sitting in front of the garage. The second thing was that it looked like every single light in the house was burning bright. I wanted to bitch at him about the cost of the electric bill, but there were far more pressing things we needed to discuss first.

  I pulled my car in next to his and cut the engine, then moved up the front walk like I was heading for the hangman’s noose, slowly and full of dread.

  The house was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. “Mace?” I called out hesitantly. I got nothing for several seconds until a glass clanged from the kitchen, reverberating like a deafening boom in the otherwise silent house. I followed it and jerked to a stop just inside the entryway, my heart breaking at the sight of an open bottle of Jack and a half-full glass he was turning in his hands on the granite island.

  My heart hit the floor and my stomach revolted, but before I could ask he spoke. “Nothin’ to freak out about,” he grunted. “Haven’t had a drop. Only poured it.”

  “Then why’s it sitting in front of you?”

  He kept his focus on the amber liquid in the galls, like the swirling, wavy pattern was too mesmerizing to look away from. “To prove to myself I could.”

  My throat felt like it was closing, but I still managed to get out one simple word. “And?”

  “And… I can.” The tension in my muscles started to release until he continued talking. “I want nothing more than to pick this glass up and down the whole goddamn thing in one go, but I’m not going to.”