Come Back for Me

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Come Back for Me Page 7

by Corinne Michaels

Hadley.

  All I keep in my mind is that sweet little girl and the hope she’s still running, finding someone to give her shelter.

  I stay upright, staring into his vengeful eyes. “You can hit me, break me, cut me down, but I am not staying!”

  Kevin grips my hair again, pulling me up to my feet. The pain is so bad I scream, unable to hold it back. Everything feels heavy and even breathing feels like work.

  He hauls me back toward the house as I try to keep up, stumbling along the way.

  “You don’t have to stay, Ellie, but you’re not going anywhere.”

  Chapter Nine

  Connor

  “Just tonight. No names. No anything. Just . . . I need to feel.” Her voice is pleading.

  “Feel me.”

  Her deep blue eyes stare into mine, and I swear she sees all my demons and chases them away.

  Tonight, I’m not some kid who has dealt with his drunk dad, who thanked him with his fists and vitriol. I’m not the child of the man who threatened to ruin my life with the lies my brothers and I have told—to protect him.

  I’m not Connor Arrowood, the youngest brother, the troublemaker who barely made it out of high school.

  Right now, to her, my Angel, I’m a god. She looks at me with so much hope and honesty that it humbles me.

  “Tomorrow . . .” I say as I gently brush my thumb across her cheek.

  “No tomorrows.”

  I want to tell her that tomorrow I leave for boot camp. She should know that, even though we are agreeing to only one night, I’ll come back for her. She just has to wait.

  “There’s more,” I start, but her hand covers my lips.

  “There’s nothing but tonight. I want us to get lost in each other, can you give me that?”

  I’ll give her everything.

  Her hand lowers, and she replaces it with her mouth. I kiss her, giving her the answer through touch.

  We barely say a word as we slowly undress each other in a hotel room three towns over from Sugarloaf. I’m here to remember. I’m here to forget. I’m not even sure why I came, but maybe it was for her.

  I’m eighteen years old but feel as if I’ve lived a thirty-year-old’s life. Dealing with the loss of my mother, my drunk father, the beatings, the lies, and having to make decisions I never should’ve had to make—because of him.

  Right now, I don’t feel any of that. I’m a guy who is going to love a woman who is far better than he is.

  “Connor!”

  I look around, not knowing where the sound is coming from. No one else is here. It’s only my Angel and me.

  “Connor! Connor! Help!”

  I shoot up out of bed, my dream fading away as I search for the noise.

  “Please! Be home! Please! Connor, I need you!”

  Hadley.

  I jump out of bed, throwing my shorts on as I rush to the door. “Hadley?”

  When I open the door, she’s standing there, hair plastered to her face and eyes red rimmed. She grabs my hand, pulling me. “You have to come! You have to help!”

  “Come where?”

  “Hurry!” she screams.

  Hadley is trembling, gripping my hand so tight that I can almost feel the fear inside her. She stares at me, broken, sad, and terrified. Images of what can be wrong flash in my mind because I remember that look. I remember running with my face a mess, praying I could find some help.

  Before I go there, I need her to tell me what happened so I can prepare. I use my years of training to slow down my rapid heart rate and the urge to rush over.

  I squat down to her level, gripping both her small hands in mine. “I need you to tell me what’s wrong?”

  Her head moves to where her house would be and then back to me. “She told me to run.”

  “Your mother?”

  She nods. “He . . . he was . . . we tried.”

  I scoop her up quickly, gathering her in my arms and rushing into the house. Once I know she’s safely in the house, I sit her down and try to get more from her. “Is it your dad?” Hadley cries harder, and there’s a painful tightness in my throat. I want to hold her, comfort this kid who is falling apart, but I urge her gaze back to mine. “I need you to tell me so I can help her.”

  “He had her, but she made me run and told me not to stop.”

  Fuck.

  For just a second, I’m Hadley. I’m running, remembering how Declan screamed until I couldn’t hear him as I fled. I can feel the fear inside my body as I wouldn’t stop, finding that tree, praying he wouldn’t follow me.

  Declan protected me and I will do anything to do the same for Ellie now.

  “Okay, I want you to stay here, lock the door behind me, and call 9-1-1 right away. Tell them what happened.”

  “I’m scared.”

  I shake my head, pulling on my bravest face. “I know you are, but you got to me and now I need you to call the police so that we can make sure everyone is safe. I will come back here as soon as I can.”

  “With Mommy?”

  I really fucking hope so. I know better than to make promises I can’t keep.

  “I’m going to try. Just don’t answer the door unless it’s me or Sheriff Mendoza . . . is he still the sheriff?” She nods. “Good, only us, okay?”

  I hate that I’m leaving her alone in this broken house, but Ellie needs help. If she had Hadley run . . . it was to protect her, like my brothers did for me.

  “Please help her, Connor,” Hadley pleads, and I want nothing more than to give her what she asks.

  This kid has somehow felt safe enough to come to me for help. I can’t let her down, no matter what.

  “I’m going now. Remember to call and don’t let anyone but me, your mom, or Sheriff Mendoza in.” I remind her again. I want to specifically tell her not to let her father in, but she’s terrified enough.

  “I promise.”

  With that, I pull her in for a quick hug, grab my gun out of the entry table, and run.

  My legs don’t stop. I don’t think about anything other than getting to her . . . fast. I can’t stop, slow, or falter. I know that taking the road might be the easiest, but cutting across the field is faster, so that’s what I do.

  I leap over the fence, moving at a pace I haven’t set in a long time. During my last deployment, I was restricted from running, but right now, nothing hurts. I’m running on pure adrenaline and the need to get to Ellie.

  In my gut, I knew something wasn’t right. If that son of a bitch hurt Hadley that day, I’ll kill him. I have to stop myself from going down that line of thinking because I’m already trying to rein my anger in that he’s hurt Ellie.

  As I move across the wet grass, I think about that night. I remember how she felt so secure in my arms. I’ve held that memory for so long that the idea of that being all we’d ever have is killing me. Ellie means something to me, whether it’s reciprocated or not, she’s been my talisman.

  I’ve dreamed of her so many times and then replayed the memory of that night just to have her close again.

  I’ve created hundreds of different scenarios for what would have happened if I’d only woken up earlier, of how the last eight years of my life would have played out.

  My heart is racing as the light from the house in front of me cuts through the night. I move even quicker, knowing that each second that passes could mean anything.

  I pull my gun out, keeping it down by my side as I move. The ranch-style house should make it easier for me to gain access through a window if I have to. There is a small porch on the front, and the bay window is bright with light from inside. That’s most likely where they are. I do a fast assessment of the house, trying to determine the best way in. It’s eerily quiet, the moon overhead is bright, giving me enough light to see but not be seen.

  I step closer and see the curtain move in the front.

  I’m hoping the sheriff is close, but it’s Sugarloaf, so I’m not overly hopeful, and there’s not a chance in hell I’m waiting for them to show up b
efore I go in.

  “Kevin.” I hear a mumble coming through the window. “Don’t do this.”

  Ellie’s voice sounds broken and raspy. Not at all like the beautiful, sweet and almost song-like quality that it was earlier.

  “Do you think I want my wife to leave me? I’m the man who has supported you, loved you, provided a life for you, and then I wake up to find you stealing my daughter?”

  I look through the window and see her lying on the floor in front of the fireplace as he walks around the room. I survey the area, deciding the front door is the best entry to get to her quickly.

  “I was bringing her somewhere safe,” she tries to yell, but her arm is supporting her chest, and it looks as if she can barely draw a full breath. “You hit me for the last time.”

  The motherfucker hurt her.

  Red fills my vision, and all my thoughtful planning goes out the window.

  I move to the front of the house, tuck my gun in my waistband, and kick the door open so hard that the wood splinters. I walk forward, no longer giving a shit about anything other than the bastard who raised his hand to a woman.

  “What the fuck?” He stumbles back and then comes forward. “Came to save your whore?”

  “I heard some noise, wanted to see what’s going on over here.”

  He shakes his head. We both know I couldn’t hear a damn thing almost a mile down the road, but I really don’t give a shit about what he thinks. I care about the woman on the floor and the little girl at my house who is scared out of her mind.

  Because of this scumbag.

  “Get out of my house.”

  “I’d really like to, but I have a strict rule about men who hit people smaller than them.” I step closer, making a fist and releasing it. “You see, I think a real man would pick on someone his own size, you know?”

  “Fuck off.”

  “How about you man up to me? I bet that would make you feel more like a man than hitting a woman would.”

  I circle him, stalking my prey, ready to pounce the second I see that Ellie is out of the way.

  However, the blue and red headlights fill the room, and I see the panic in his eyes.

  Kevin moves to the left as if to bolt down the hallway and probably out a back door, but I lunge for him. My arms wrap around his body, and I let momentum and gravity pull us both to the floor. He lands a punch to the side of my face, and I swing back, a loud thwack echoing around me.

  That’s all there is time for before hands are yanking me back. “Let him go, son. I’ll take it from here,” Sheriff Mendoza says.

  He grabs Kevin, and I rush over to Ellie, who is sitting huddled on the floor. “Are you okay?”

  She shakes her head.

  “We need to get you to the hospital.”

  “Hadley?”

  “She’s safe,” I tell her quickly. “She’s at my house.”

  “I need to get to her.” Ellie tries to get up but cries out.

  “Ellie?”

  “My ribs. My stomach . . .”

  I clench my teeth to stop myself from doing something I’ll end up in jail for. She’s hurt and survived God only knows what. For her, I need not to be anything like the man she just saw.

  “Can you walk?” Her lip trembles, and she tries to turn away, to hide the bruise forming on her cheek. I lift my hand, but she jerks away. “I’m sorry.”

  “No.” She tries to stop me. “I need Hadley, and I need to get out of here.”

  “I won’t hurt you.”

  “Is she somewhere safe?”

  “She’s at my place,” I answer.

  Her eyes meet mine and tears fall. “Thank you for coming for me.”

  If she only knew that she’s what kept me coming back time after time. It was the night we shared, the smile, the laughter, and everything she gave me that once. I felt alive, worthy. As though I could be someone’s hero. I would come back for her every day of my life even if I knew she could never be mine.

  “I’m glad I got here in time.”

  She wraps her arm around her stomach and gasps. “Ellie?”

  “It just hurts.”

  I want to rip his arms off. How dare he do this to his family? His wife and daughter should be all that matters, and he broke them both tonight.

  I glance back over to where he’s standing, arms behind his back, and I hope those metal cuffs are so tight they are digging into his skin. He watches me, and I move to obscure her from his view. He doesn’t deserve to look at her.

  She makes another sound, and I don’t know how to help her. Never have I felt so inept before. “What do I do?”

  The tears that have been brimming fall along with my heart. “Just get me to Hadley.”

  I nod, and then Sheriff Mendoza calls our attention. “Ellie, I have a few questions I need to ask.”

  “Okay. But I have to get to Hadley.”

  The quiver in her voice tells me she’s on the brink of losing it. She needs to see her daughter. “Would it be possible to have her give you her statement there, where they’re both safe?” I ask.

  Mendoza looks to her and then nods. “Of course. I’ll have Deputy McCabe bring Kevin down to the station, and I’ll drive you both over.”

  Ellie looks as though she’s ready to break. Her hands are shaking, and she keeps sucking in air when she moves. “Can you stand?” I ask her quietly.

  “Help me?” I put my hands out, not knowing where to touch, but she can barely move to take the offered help.

  Fuck this. I lean down, and as carefully as I can, take her into my arms. “I’m sorry,” I say as I hear her squeak.

  “Don’t apologize, thank you. I don’t think I could walk.”

  I lift her, cradling her as gently as possible to my chest. “I won’t let you fall.”

  And God help me, I won’t let him hurt her again.

  Chapter Ten

  Ellie

  The sun is coming up as I sit on Connor’s porch swing, a blanket draped around my shoulders and a cup of tea in my hands. I’m numb, that’s all I can process. Nothing feels real. It’s almost as if I’ve settled into a dream-like state and have been watching everything that has happened, not living it.

  Even though, I know that isn’t true. The pain I feel burring through my chest every time I take a breath is proof.

  The other thing I feel is safe, or at least the safest I can be. Connor has been at my side or within view each moment, making sure I know I am protected and my daughter is as well. He was there when I refused the ambulance, knowing I couldn’t leave Hadley and that I wouldn’t allow her to see me in a hospital.

  He sat in the back of the police car with me as silent tears drifted down my face. I was in pain, yes, but more so . . . broken. When we reached the entry to the driveway, he squeezed my hand gently in reassurance. I wiped my eyes and shoved down my sadness because I needed to be strong again. Hadley needed that.

  Nothing could’ve stopped me from getting to her, so he ensured I was out of the car and standing before he went and opened the door. She rushed out, terror etched on her face, and then relief.

  All I could do was touch her face, and give her assurance I was okay. Whether she knows it or not, she’s the bravest person I’ve ever known. My daughter saved my life, and I will never be able to forgive myself for it.

  I comforted Hadley as much as I could before giving my statement and allowing the police to take photos of my injuries. As Connor bandaged my ribs, he had explained that they would need them for the court case. While he worked, I learned that he was a medic in the navy, which is why he wouldn’t let the EMT, Sydney, touch me.

  It was a whole other level of humiliation, but I was grateful for my ability to shut myself down and be numb to it all. I let Connor do what he could and pretended I was on the beach, away from it all. I simply held my daughter, forgetting the pain, as she drifted off.

  The door creeks open, and I startle, but Connor raises his hands immediately. “It’s just me. I’m coming to check o
n you.”

  I do my best to relax back into the swing. “I’m . . . here.”

  “How are you holding up?”

  I shrug. “I’m not really sure. I’m still processing it all.”

  “You did great with Sheriff Mendoza.”

  I laugh internally. I didn’t do great with anything. My entire life has been a series of errors, trying to get away last night being the biggest. Last night, I sat there, telling him and the sheriff the story, hating myself, berating myself, as tears fell down my face.

  There was nothing great about any of it.

  “I’m not so sure of that. I was a mess.”

  “You didn’t lie, and you told him everything when you didn’t have to. I’ve seen . . . there are people who cover up abuse because it’s easier. You were brave. You may not feel that way, and I’m sure you have your reasons for not leaving sooner, but you were, and I’m sure Hadley will see it that way.”

  I look out at the sunrise, wishing I could find some solace in knowing that I lived to see it again, but I can’t. Regrets are what fill me, and there isn’t a slice of bravery there. “If I were brave, I never would’ve let it get this far. I would’ve left after the first time he made me feel weak and small. If so many things didn’t happen . . . if only I had run when he raised his hand to me that first time, my daughter never would’ve seen a bruise on her mother or a tear fall because he’d hurt me.”

  “It’s easy to look at it that way, taking on the blame or playing the what-if game, but we make the choices we think are best at the time. We all have regrets.”

  He can’t possibly mean that. People who aren’t in the situation look at it differently. I’ve heard people talk about those in bad relationships and how they wouldn’t do this and they wouldn’t do that. If someone isn’t living in those shoes, they can’t say what they’d do.

  I never thought I’d be in an abusive relationship, but here I am.

  When I was growing up, I was this smart girl who thought she would find a man who treated her well, and if they didn’t, they’d be gone. Then I met Kevin and was in this whirlwind relationship where he became my entire world and I became an outsider in my own story.

 

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