At six, she handed over to Marion, grabbed her purse, and headed to the small coffee shop around the corner from the hotel where she’d arranged to meet Mom and Dad. Neutral territory for their first meeting in years seemed like a sensible idea, but that didn’t stop the hollow feeling in her stomach, or nervous tension in her spine making her back ache.
The weather had cooled from the intense heat of summer, and she pulled her jacket closer around her. When she reached the coffee shop, she paused to peer through the window. Her parents were sitting in the back, each nursing a cup of coffee, with a spare one she assumed was for her. She took a moment to watch them in private, because she almost stopped breathing and needed the time to collect herself. Her heart thundered against her ribs. God, she’d missed them so badly.
She slowly entered. Her parents glanced over when the bell above the door dinged. Mom scrambled to her feet, followed by Dad. As Millie reached them, their arms came around her, hugging so tightly it erred on painful. She didn’t care, though. She’d dreaded this moment for so long, worried they wouldn’t want to rekindle the relationship, especially after she’d treated them so badly. Yet now, folded in the warmth of her parents’ embrace, the years of hurt melted away.
“Oh, Millie.” Dad’s eyes shone with tears as he cupped her face, his keen gaze searching. And then he simply said, “My girl is back.”
A swell of remorse burst from within her. She wanted to cry, but years of training at Tanner’s hands prevented the outpouring of emotion. She forced a smile and gestured for them to sit.
“I’m so glad you called,” Mom said, pressing the cup of coffee into Millie’s hands. “We’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you, too. I’m sorry I let so many years go by.”
Mom stroked a hand down the back of Millie’s head, a soothing gesture she’d adopted when Millie was only a child. Yet it felt so good, she could almost have regressed into that eight-year-old girl.
“What happened, sweetheart? Between you and Tanner?”
Millie didn’t miss the hardening of her mother’s tone, or the way her lips pressed together as she mentioned Tanner’s name. She couldn’t tell them the truth. What if they trotted out a “We told you so”, or “Well, you made your bed”, or even worse, “If you let him treat you so badly, you deserved it”? These were all thoughts she regularly heard inside her own head. She suffered enough guilt for allowing Tanner to strip her of her self-respect. If they piled on even more, she’d crumble.
Or what if they decided to take matters into their own hands and tackled Tanner for his years of abuse? Dad was already taking blood pressure tablets for his heart. The last thing she wanted was her mistake to become their cross to bear. Or for their actions to confirm her location to Tanner.
“We grew apart, that’s all. It happens to lots of couples. Not everyone is as lucky as you and Dad,” she added with a teasing grin in an attempt to divert the conversation in a different direction. It didn’t work.
“And Tanner is okay with this?”
No. I’m sure Tanner is far from okay with this.
She gave a nonchalant shrug. She didn’t want to outright lie to her parents, but the truth wasn’t an option. “He’s disappointed, of course. We both are. But there’s no point staying together for the sake of it.”
“At least you don’t have children to worry about,” Mom said bluntly.
A searing pain almost cut off Millie’s air supply, sending her into a tailspin. She and Tanner had tried for kids in the early days, before he’d killed the love she’d once had for him. It hadn’t happened. They’d never found out which one of them had the fertility issue, because Tanner had refused to get checked out. Instead, he’d taken great pleasure in blaming the lack of a baby on her—another transgression to lay at her door.
“I guess so,” she said quietly.
Her mother must have sensed the tone because she hurriedly changed the subject. They spent the next hour or so catching up on all their news. She told them about her job at the hotel, her mind briefly straying to Cole. He was exactly the type of man her parents would have wanted for her. Hard-working, kind, strong, thoughtful, considerate. All perfect attributes in a partner. Instead, she’d ended up with a bitter, cruel, heartless, selfish man.
Not any longer. She’d escaped, and as each day passed, she moved closer to the woman she was meant to be. Making this initial step to reconcile with her parents was certainly heading in the right direction.
She put them in a cab with a fervent promise to meet up again soon. Her mom waved out the back window until the cab turned a corner and they disappeared from view.
She set off for home, but she’d barely taken a few steps when a large hand clasped her elbow. She turned around, blood draining out of her face. She urged her legs to run, but there was nowhere to go.
“Hello, wife,” Tanner said.
Chapter 9
Cole started the trek home at the end of a long shift. His legs weighed a ton after pounding the streets of Manhattan for the last twelve hours, and every bone in his spine felt fused together. It had been a shitty day, one of those days where he wondered if his efforts made one jot of difference to the eventual outcome. No matter how many months and years passed, he was still arresting youths who’d made a bad decision that would affect the rest of their lives, and picking up lifelong criminals who’d been out of prison less than a week. Was it really worth the effort?
Yes, of course it is. More than worth it. For every person swallowed up by the system, he had a chance of saving another, of pointing out that an alternative to their pre-defined life existed. That they had choices. He needed a vacation, that was all. Maybe he should take the boat out. He hadn’t found the time to do that for a while, and he was paying a shitload in mooring fees. May as well make use of it.
He considered asking Millie whether she wanted to go out on the river for the day. He’d kept a polite distance since their altercation a few weeks earlier while praying that she’d make the first move. She hadn’t. When she’d reappeared in his life, his hopes had been raised of a third chance with her—even though he could hardly call the first two chances. Standing aside while not one, but two other guys swooped in and stole the woman he wanted didn’t make him gallant. It made him a dick.
Promising to stay back and give her space to work through her shit wasn’t working. Maybe it was time to ease out from the shadows, get her to notice him. At high school he hadn’t even tried to tell her how he felt, and look how that had worked out. If he continued acting the same way over and over, he’d get the same damned result. Decision made. He’d ask her. If she said no, he’d deal.
Sure you will.
He stopped off at a grocery store close to home to pick up dinner and a pack of beers. As he left the store he spotted Millie across the street. His spirits lifted, and he was about to jog across to meet her when a tall, broad guy stepped out from behind her, his hand firmly at her elbow. Cole’s body tensed as blood rushed to his head, and white spots danced in front of his eyes. Fuck’s sake. He’d read her wrong. All this time he’d been giving her space to get over her broken marriage, hoping she’d notice him. Instead, she’d moved on to someone else. Yet again, his stupid reticence to step up and take what he wanted meant he’d missed out for a third fucking time.
He angrily turned away, his plan of a quiet night shifting into finding the nearest bar and getting blind drunk. But then he hesitated, turned back around, peered closer. The guy had his head bent, a navy-blue baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. He was murmuring something in her ear. Cole watched her body stiffen. She tried to tug her arm away, but the guy tightened his grip. The man’s head lifted and he glanced left and right, allowing Cole to get a good look. A shot of ice rushed through his veins.
Tanner.
Fuck.
He didn’t think. He acted.
He dropped his shopping and sprinted across four lanes of busy traffic. Taxi drivers blasted their horns, and he sla
mmed the palm of his hand on the hood of a car that almost mowed him down, cursing the fact he’d gotten changed out of his uniform before setting off for home. Not that he was scared of Tanner in the slightest, but faced with a cop rather than a man, it may have made the upcoming conflict easier to deal with.
“Millie?”
Her chin kicked up, and her eyes latched on to his. They widened and then flashed with…relief? Regardless, she seemed fucking glad to see him.
Tanner narrowed his gaze as Cole got closer, and then recognition sparked in his eyes.
“Cole Brook. Fuck me. Or is it Calum? I never could tell you two apart. Good to see you, man.” He thrust out his hand. His wide, too-bright smile, so cocky, so fucking fake, jacked up Cole’s anger. He let Tanner’s hand linger in the air.
“Tanner,” he said, his tone short and brusque.
Tanner’s hand fell to his side, and his face hardened. “Sorry we can’t stop. Millie and I have things to discuss.”
He went to move off, his grip still firmly on Millie’s arm. Cole stood in front of him, barring his way.
Tanner’s nostrils flared. “What the fuck you doing, man? Move.”
Cole didn’t even acknowledge he’d spoken. He turned his attention to Millie.
“Do you want to go with him?”
Spittle gathered at the corner of Tanner’s mouth, and he almost tripped over his words. “She’s my fucking wife. She’ll go where I say. Now move before I put you down.”
Adrenaline rushed through him, giving him an edgy, twitchy feeling, emotions he was well used to in his day job. He rolled back his shoulders. “Dial it back, Tanner.” Cole widened his stance and thrust out his chest. His arms were loose at his sides.
“Fuck you,” Tanner spat, his own stance moving aggressively.
Oh, here we go.
Cole sneered. “Go ahead then, dickhead. Throw one.”
Tanner’s fists clenched, and then he swung. It took Cole about a second to dodge his attempt at a punch and get him in a headlock.
“Stop it!” Millie shouted as people on the street paused to stare at the commotion, then quickly lost interest. Scuffles on the streets of New York weren’t exactly unusual.
Cole met her panicked gaze, his own full of what he hoped was reassurance, while Tanner twisted his body, trying to escape the tight hold Cole had him in. It wouldn’t do any good—Cole had training and composure, Tanner had anger—there was only ever going to be one winner.
“Do you want me to let him go?” Cole asked her.
She nodded.
He released Tanner, who staggered backward, straightened, and then poked his finger in Cole’s direction. “I’m pressing charges.”
Cole grinned. “Good luck with that.” He didn’t expand on why. Let Tanner wonder.
Tanner went to grab Millie’s arm once more, but Cole got in between them. “Whoa there. Touch her again and I’ll break your face.”
“She’s my wife.”
Cole smiled slowly. “Yeah, so you said.” He turned to Millie. “Do you want to go with him?” he reiterated, because she hadn’t gotten the chance to answer the first time he’d asked.
She hesitated, inhaled a breath, and then gave the smallest shake of her head, followed by a reaffirming, if quiet, “No.”
Suppressing a triumphant grin, Cole turned back to Tanner. “You heard the lady. Now, if you hurry, you might just catch the last Greyhound back to Chicago.”
“I’m going nowhere,” Tanner said, looking past Cole toward Millie. “Not until we’ve talked.”
Cole inserted his body between them, cutting off Tanner’s view of Millie—and hers of him. He spun on his heel and marched down the street. When Tanner disappeared around the corner, Cole spotted Millie lose her balance. He caught her around the waist.
“Hey, steady now. I’ve got you.”
She looked up at him, and the expression on her face—like a dog that had been repeatedly kicked by its master—tore at his heart. She gripped his arm, her fingernails digging into his skin, and rested her head against his chest. He wasn’t going to lie. It felt so good to finally have her in his arms, leaning on him.
“You’re safe,” he murmured, his lips in her hair. “You’re safe with me.”
Her grip eased as though his words had resonated and she believed them. He was giving her comfort and a sense of security, and she was taking it. Right then he was making a goddamn difference, at least to her.
“I’m here, Millie. If you need me, I’m right here.”
She leaned back, her eyes finally meeting his. And then he saw it, bubbling to the surface in her dark mocha irises. Trust. His actions had made her realize he was someone she could confide in.
She sighed. “I need a drink. And I don’t mean coffee.”
He smiled at her unguarded moment of honesty. It showed him a glimpse of the girl he’d once known and fallen for. What’s more, she’d noticed him. At long last. When she’d needed him, he’d been there. He curled his fingers around hers, and when she didn’t pull away, a warm glow swept through his chest. “I know just the place.”
Chapter 10
Cole took her to a small, intimate bar with dim lights, cozy booths, and soft music. He ordered them both a whiskey, and after their drinks had been brought over, he sipped his while he waited for her to talk.
“I don’t know how he found me,” she murmured, almost to herself, as she dug her fingernail into a groove on the wooden table.
“Were you on your way home? Your shift finished hours ago, right?”
She lifted her chin. Her eyes were huge, and her skin even more pale than usual. “I’d been to meet my parents. We’d become estranged since I married Tanner. Tonight was a reconciliation of sorts, and it had gone so well. I was walking to the subway when he appeared out of nowhere.” She let out a breath and touched her fingers to her mouth. When she dropped her hand back to the table, she was wearing a tired and resigned expression. “I can’t stay here now. I’m sorry to mess you around, what with the job and all, but…” Her voice trailed off.
“You’re going nowhere.”
She ignored him, choosing instead to stare out the window into the dusk. He fixated on her reflection. He didn’t have an enormous amount of experience with domestic violence victims—that wasn’t his department—but the despair and utter desperation in her eyes, how wary she was to new situations or experiences, her nervousness, the manner in which she flinched from physical touch, the downturn to her mouth, the furrow between her brows. Yep, that was exactly what he was looking at in Millie.
He broke his promise never to ask her because, damn it, he needed to know.
“Tell me what he did to you. I can help you. I’ll keep you safe.”
She slowly turned her head. “Why would you do that? You don’t even know me anymore.”
He almost blurted out every last detail of how he felt about the woman sitting opposite, but at the last moment he managed to stop himself, because that would have been one fucking big mistake.
He longed to hold her, to soothe and comfort her. Christ, he wanted her, every broken piece, because he knew he could put her back together again. But he had to move slowly. This wasn’t about him, and his wants and needs, it was all about her.
He covered her hand with his and gave it a gentle squeeze before drawing back. “I know you’re hurting. I know who’s responsible. And I know I can help fix that.” He shrugged, then hit her with a broad grin. “What can I say? I’m a fucking A1 American hero. New York’s finest, baby.”
She laughed—a real, honest-to-goodness laugh that chased away the terrible pain on her face, if only for a few seconds. “Yes, you are.”
The moment over, she cast her eyes downward and picked at her thumbnail. He let the silence linger. It hovered there until, eventually, she sat a little straighter, and he knew she’d made the decision to talk, or at least share some details.
“For a long time, I didn’t realize anything was wrong. In fact, on t
he odd occasion one of Tanner’s colleagues would make a joke about him keeping me under lock and key, I’d get quite defensive. I wasn’t under Tanner’s control. I was my own woman.” She gave a short, bitter laugh. “It’s like a constant state of denial mixed with a nagging feeling you’re going insane. Tanner is a complete narcissist, which I could have understood more if he’d been successful. But because his ego couldn’t handle failure, his lack of a big football career became my fault.
“In hindsight, I realize I kind of shut down, went numb. I would bolster myself with daily ‘positive thinking’ mantras that everything was normal and okay. I would spend most of my day justifying myself to him—where I was going, what I was doing, who I spoke to, who spoke to me. It was worse because he couldn’t keep an eye on me twenty-four seven because he had to work. So, to make up for that, he’d force me to account for every second of every day.”
She swallowed the remains of her whiskey. Cole immediately called for another round for them both, because a horrible sick feeling had begun to churn in his stomach the more she spoke.
“He would ring me umpteen times throughout the day. If I didn’t answer immediately, then I’d get inundated with text messages and follow-up calls. ‘Worried about you, babe. Don’t want to stress you out, babe. Who’s there with you, babe?’”
She paused, waiting until the server dropped off their drinks. Her finger circled the rim of the glass as she kept her gaze averted. It made her harder to read, but he could hardly demand she look at him. However she needed to offload was fine by him, although the more she disclosed, the angrier Cole became. If that fucker Tanner thought he was getting within ten feet of this woman again, well, he’d have to get through Cole first.
Like that is gonna happen.
“My existence consisted of being on the receiving end of constant criticism and ridicule. Nothing I did was ever good enough for Tanner. He turned insignificant things into big problems, and every single one was my fault. Tanner mastered ‘the sulk’, and boy, I’d do anything I could to avoid one of those. They could last for weeks. He was an expert at passive aggression and manipulation. Treading on eggshells around someone you live with for days on end, well, it crushes your soul. Eventually he eroded my confidence, my self-esteem. My self-worth. I hated him for that and hated myself even more for allowing him to do that to me.
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