by Megan Green
Until now.
Nichole tries to push herself up into a sitting position, small whimpers of pain escaping her lips with every move. I take her hands in mine, trying to still her. Her big brown eyes stare up at me, a silent plea evident in the deep russet pools. Bracing myself against the side of the bed, I gingerly wrap my arms around her, letting her use me to pull herself up and helping as much as I can without hurting her. Once she’s settled and she has the sheet wrapped around her naked breasts, I pull away, dropping back on my haunches.
Cade crawls onto the bed next to her, and Nichole tucks him in under her arm and presses a kiss to the top of his head.
“What happened?” I ask quietly. I already know. But I need to hear it from her.
She gives Cade a cautious glance before blowing out a breath. “James happened.”
The chill in her voice causes shivers to shoot through me. I can feel those two words in my fingers and toes.
“It isn’t the first time,” I say, not a question.
She shakes her head so subtly that it’s almost imperceptible before, once again, pressing her lips against Cade’s hair. The little boy watches me, his eyes full of more affliction and concern than any seven-year-old has the right to bear. I reach a hand out to him, and he looks at his mom for permission before finally climbing across the bed and into my arms. I give him a quick hug before pulling back, placing both hands on his shoulders and looking him square in the eye.
“I need to talk to your mom for a couple of minutes, okay, bud? I promise, she’ll be safe with me. How about you run downstairs and tell Mario to give you a couple of cannolis? My treat. I’ll swing by on the way out and make sure we’re square. Sound good?”
Cade looks hesitantly at Nichole once more, but when she nods, he turns and walks silently out the door.
As soon as I hear his footsteps leave the stairs, I sit down next to Nichole. “One hell of a kid you’ve got there.”
She nods. “You don’t know the half of it. Sometimes, I’m sure he’s the only reason I’m still alive.”
Her words are slightly slurred due to her split lip, but her tone is so full of pride and love for her son that she could be speaking another language entirely, and I’d still be able to understand the gist of what she was trying to say.
I reach out, placing my hand on her bare knee. It’s the one visible place that isn’t covered in bruises. “You need to go to the hospital.”
Her head starts to shake before I’ve even finished my sentence.
“Trust me, I know what cracked ribs and broken bones feel like. I’m fine. I got lucky this time.”
I want to argue, but I also don’t want to cause her any more distress. I decide we’ll come back to that later.
“How long has it been going on, Nichole?”
She snorts. “It’s hard to remember a time when it wasn’t.”
My heart aches at her response, but I stay silent, hoping she’ll continue. And, after a few moments of silence, she does exactly that.
“James and I got married about six months after you left. I was hurting, and he made it feel better. I thought, if I could just find love again, it might make the pain go away. So, I ran headlong into the first relationship that presented itself. We were married not even three months after meeting.”
The tugging in my chest only intensifies when she mentions the fact that she was hurting because of me. It kills me that I had some small role in the pain she’s endured all these years, however indirectly.
“Little did I know at the time that the pain I’d been feeling before I met James was nothing compared to what awaited me. The first time it happened was only a few months after the wedding. And it’s been happening ever since.”
“Why?” I rasp out through the lump forming in my throat. “Why did you stay?”
Nichole’s eyes meet mine, and I can see the hopelessness she must feel.
“Where else was I going to go, Joey? I had no job. No friends. My parents had just died. James was all I had. So, I made excuses. If I could just be better to him, for him, things would go back to the way they had been. Each time he hurt me, I would think of all the ways I could’ve prevented it, how I had really brought it on myself.
“And then I got pregnant with Cade. Leaving after that seemed impossible. How could I care for my precious baby when I couldn’t even take care of myself? We needed James. As much as I hate to admit it, we did.”
I don’t understand. I want to rage at her, tell her she could’ve called me any-fucking-time, and I would’ve helped her. She could’ve gone to Chief Morgan, and he would’ve helped her. She didn’t have to stay with that man. There were other options.
But, looking at her face, I can’t bring myself to say the words. No matter what I think, how pissed off the whole situation makes me, I have no fucking idea. No idea what this woman has gone through. I don’t know what it’s like to have someone who’s supposed to cherish and support you completely turn on you. I have no idea what it’s like to be physically harmed by the person who’s supposed to love you more than anyone else on the planet. I simply do not know. So, therefore, I have no room to judge. I have no place in telling her what she should’ve done. Could’ve done. She did what she thought she needed to do in order to survive and in order to keep her son safe. The only thing I can do now is make sure she never has to go through it again.
I smooth her hair back behind her ear, leaving my hand so that I’m cradling her head in my fingers. She turns into my touch, rubbing her cheek against my palm. I lean forward, pressing my lips to her forehead in a gentle kiss.
“You don’t need him anymore. You hear me? I’m going to make sure you and Cade never need him again. That’s a promise.”
She sighs heavily, as if she doesn’t believe me. But, instead of arguing, she leans her forehead back against my lips. I wrap my arms around her, taking great care not to touch any of her tender spots.
We sit like that for what feels like an eternity and an instant all at once.
But the longer she’s in my arms, the surer I am. I’ll never let anything happen to this woman ever again.
“Put that down over there in the corner, would ya?”
Cade looks in the direction where I jerked my chin, carrying the box of clothes to the corner of the bedroom, like I asked. My hands are busy with screwing together the cheap IKEA bed frame I picked up earlier this morning.
Alex walks in shortly after with a larger box in his arms. He follows Cade’s lead and places it in the corner.
It’s the Fourth of July, and I’ve spent every free moment I’ve had over the past three days finding this place and getting it ready for Nichole and Cade. I used some of the connections I had down at the station and was assured that nobody would be able to find them here if I didn’t want them to.
The apartment complex serves as a safe house for several other sources and women fleeing abusive relationships. The area is patrolled regularly, and anything out of the ordinary is immediately followed up on to ensure everyone’s safety.
When I told Nichole I’d found a place for them, she looked equal parts relieved and angry. Angry that I’d gone behind her back and arranged everything without talking to her. And relieved for that very same reason. She expressed her concern about being able to afford it, but after I told her that the government pays for things like this for as long as she needed, she agreed. I might not have been entirely honest about that bit. But, I mean, I work for the government, so my paying for it is practically the same thing.
Cade and Alex finish unloading the last few boxes from my truck while I finish putting together the bed. My dad had an old dresser and a couch I was able to con off him, and I found a small two-person table for the little dining area at a secondhand store yesterday. All of this has already been set up, and the flowers I picked this morning are sitting in a glass vase in the center of the tiny table. Now, all that is left is to finish this damn monstrosity and go get Nichole. Whoever said IKEA shit was e
asy was full of it.
The place is a two-bedroom, and I was looking forward to surprising Cade with his own bed in a few weeks. When I first mentioned him having his own room, Nichole asked that I hold off for just a bit on setting it up. She wanted him to be able to adjust. And, right now, the boy doesn’t like being away from his mother’s side for more than a few minutes. The only reason he is here with me now is because he wanted his mom to move in as soon as possible. That meant getting this all done as fast as possible.
I turn around and see the little guy pulling clothes out of one of the boxes and attempting to fold them before placing them in the drawer. It’d be hilarious as hell under any other circumstances, watching a seven-year-old try and fold laundry. Now, it’s just sort of sad, seeing such a small boy try to fold his mother’s shirt so that she won’t have to do it when she gets here.
The three of us work quietly. Alex comes over to help me finish the bed frame and hoist the mattress onto it, and Cade is busy unpacking the few boxes of belongings he and Nichole have. Within an hour, we’re finished. Fastest move in human history. But I guess, when you don’t have much, it doesn’t take long to move it.
Cade bounces on the seat next to me as we drive back to Moretti’s. Alex hops out of the truck with a quick good-bye, and within moments, Nichole is stepping out onto the sidewalk. She looks a million times better than she did three days ago, her bruises already beginning to yellow. And she smiles a genuine smile when Cade reaches her, pulling her by the hand, back over to the truck.
“C’mon, Mom! You’re going to love it!”
She giggles at his enthusiasm, and the two of them climb into the truck. I notice Nichole doesn’t even wince today, and I take that as a good sign. I tried convincing her several times over the past few days to go to the doctor, just to be on the safe side. You never know what might be going on internally after something like that. But she remained obstinate. Seeing her able to walk and climb up into my beast of a truck without so much as a cringe makes me feel infinitely better.
When we reach the apartment, I walk the two of them inside, letting Cade give Nichole a quick tour as I wait by the front door.
When they return, Nichole has tears in her eyes. “It’s perfect, Joey. Thank you.”
I smile. “No trouble at all. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a few errands to run. But don’t worry, little dude. I’ll be back before the sun goes down. And I’ll show you how we celebrate our independence, Roberts style.”
Cade grins up at me, and Nichole cocks her brow. Without another word, I turn on my heel, leaving them both wondering what I’ve got up my sleeve.
“All right, you ready for this?” I shout over to where Cade is sitting on the grass next to his mom.
He nods vigorously, wringing his hands together in anticipation.
“Okay. One…two…three!” I count out before lighting the fuse and running back to their side.
All three of us stare up at the night sky, waiting for the show to start.
A loud boom echoes through the street, and moments later, a burst of red and blue fills the sky above us. Cade gasps next to me, his eyes wide in wonder.
Nichole leans over to me. “He’s never been to a fireworks show. Only seen them on TV. I think you just became his new favorite person.”
I chuckle at her comment as I watch Cade. His eyes grow bigger with every break from the twenty-shot repeater I lit. I’d wondered how often he’d been to a fireworks show. And, now, I got my answer. I’m glad I made sure to buy extra just in case. I’m going to give this kid a night to remember.
After I left earlier, I ran to the store to buy a few staples for Nichole’s kitchen as well as some burgers and ice cream for tonight. Then, I stopped by my house to grab my tailgate grill before heading to the biggest fireworks stand I could find. And I bought one of everything. I told the guy at the stand that I was buying them for a kid. But I’m not going to lie. I was just as excited about lighting them as I was about showing them to Cade. Something about fireworks and the Fourth of July just brings out the kid in me.
We grilled burgers as the sun was setting. Cade decided to have two after he asked me how many I was having. He watched carefully as I put ketchup and mustard on both, adding a leaf of lettuce and three sliced pickles to each. He then dressed his burgers in exactly the same way. It made me smile, seeing him trying to emulate me. Also, it made me feel really damn good.
I like this kid. A lot. I am surprised at how quickly we’ve taken to each other. But I am pretty sure Cade is the coolest damn second grader around. So, I am not going to question it. I like him. And he seems to like me. End of story.
Now, if only it were as simple with his mom.
I turn to watch her as she smiles and claps along with her son when the fireworks finish. Her gaze turns to mine after a moment, as if she can feel my eyes on her. She gives me a sideways smile before reaching out and squeezing my hand.
Thank you, she mouths as Cade runs to the back of my truck to pick out the next firework.
I press my lips against her forehead in response.
It’s the best Fourth of July ever.
Joey Roberts is an angel sent from heaven.
I’m entirely convinced of this. If these past three weeks have taught me anything, it’s that good people still exist in this world.
And Joey Roberts is at the top of that list.
Three weeks ago, Joey burst into my bedroom above Moretti’s, pissed off and literally shaking from his rage. He completely upended my life over the next few days, creating something that I never thought I’d have for myself.
A home.
Not a big, gorgeous house where I would fear for my safety every time the front door opened. And not a tiny room above a restaurant.
A real-life home.
A place where I can tuck my son in at night and not have to worry about what tomorrow might bring. A place where he can run and swing on the playground outside without fear of angering his father. And, most of all, a place where we can just be. Be together. Be ourselves. Be content.
Mario was amazing to us over the past few months, putting himself out over and over again in order to help me get by, and I’d never be able to repay him for his generosity. But the place never felt like our own. I always felt like I was living on borrowed time, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. It felt like we were hiding instead of actually living.
I walk over to our second-story living-room window, taking in the scene below me. The playground sits in the center of the courtyard, and I have a clear view of Joey and Cade.
Cade is hiding behind one of the posts holding up the stairs to the huge plastic slide, and even though it’s painfully obvious where he is, Joey still makes a big show of looking for him. When he finally turns and spots Cade, he throws his arms up as he smiles wide, feigning shock that Cade was there the entire time. Cade takes off like a shot, his little legs pumping furiously. And, even through the closed window, I can hear Cade’s shrieking giggles as he runs while Joey is chasing close behind, attempting to tag him.
Watching my son smile and play, seeming as if he doesn’t have a care in the world, only reaffirms that I made the right decision. It might not be easy. In fact, I’m certain the worst is yet to come after James receives the papers I filed. But it will be worth it.
That’s another thing Joey did for me. Shortly after we moved, he brought up the legal side of things, asking if I intended to file for divorce. When I voiced my concerns over being able to find an attorney who would be willing to go up against James, he told me to leave everything to him.
The next day, I received a phone call from Grant Lucas, who I’ve since discovered is one of the best divorce attorneys in Colorado. When I told him I couldn’t afford to pay him much—as in, nothing—he assured me it was no trouble, and everything was taken care of. Within a week, I was sitting with him in this very room, signing the divorce paperwork he’d drafted as he explained to me where we’d go from here. Jam
es would be receiving said paperwork any day now.
Thinking of James’s reaction when that knock comes on his door causes my stomach to turn. James has never taken kindly to people going against him, especially someone whom he considers beneath him. In James’s eyes, I’m his subordinate, someone who is supposed to listen to his every order and bend to his every will. I don’t think he ever thought I’d have the guts to leave him, let alone try to legally divorce him. And, a year ago, he would’ve been right. But I’d been weak and frightened for far too long.
I am ready to take back my life.
Joey has given me that confidence. He helped me realize how much Cade and I were truly missing. Like I said, he’s given us a place to belong. Before he waltzed back into my life, I was certain I’d spend the rest of my life running, hiding from James. When I left, I never thought I’d actually be able to file for divorce. I was satisfied with just being away from him. I never expected to be truly free though.
Joey has made me want more. For myself and for Cade. He walked back into my life and completely changed everything. And, while I still want to be able to support myself and do this on my own, I’ll admit, it’s nice to have someone there in my corner.
And Joey is one hundred percent in my corner. I told him a few nights ago that I was considering going back to school someday in the future. Nothing too crazy. I’d always wanted to be a doctor when I was young. And, though I know that’s off the table at this point, I’ve been thinking of starting small. Maybe medical assisting at first and then gradually working my way to nursing.
I expected Joey to laugh at me, to tell me I was crazy for thinking I’d be capable of going back to school at my age.
