by CC Monroe
“I’m right here waiting for you. You have this, Kate. You really do,” Sadie assures beside me in her car. I asked her to drive me to end things with Eric, because if I went alone, who knows what I would do. I’m incapable of making choices that are rational and right. The years of abuse and madness with Eric have controlled me to a point that I know I need a team to rally around me.
“Do I?” I question, the pain swelling in the pit of my stomach.
“I’m certain. You have to get out, Kate. There isn't a world where this ends with a happy ending. You’re drowning, and I know you see it.”
As she runs her thumb over the back of my hand, I peer up at her again, the tears clouding my vision. “How did we get here? How did we get to this?”
She shrugs, shaking her head with the only obvious answer. “We just did. You let love muddy your vision. Just like these tears.” She wipes one away. “Those are heavy tears, babe. They’re filled with regret, heartbreak, and the end of an era kind of goodbye.”
“What will I do when this is all over?” I feel like a child searching for a Band-Aid after falling off my bike.
“We will cry it out. We will hold each other through it, and you will find yourself, Kate. But that’s exactly what you need. You lost yourself. You’re not this person, and I know that. We just have to get you to remember that.” She winks, and I smirk halfheartedly. I may not be able to see the silver lining, but I can say for a fact that I know the woman I am now, today, in this very moment, is a shell of a human I swore I would never be. I used to scoff at women like me.
Eric didn't just steal my happiness; he stole my essence. But even then, I know the real Eric, the sober one, would never do this to me. There is so much good in Eric, but the demons in him will make sure those parts of him stay in the shadows. His heart would break if sober him could see addicted him.
“Now. Pull those shoulders back, put on that Kate Beckett game face, and go in there and say goodbye to this life.”
I put my shoulders back and take a deep breath through my nose. When I find my so-called Zen as best as I can, given the moment, I give her a sideways smile.
“All right, Sister Christian, your scripture quotes better be all they’re hyped up to be.” I use my humor as a defense mechanism.
“It will be. Good luck, and call me if you need me to come in and show my muscles.” She gives me a wink. I roll my eyes and get out of the car.
I count each step meticulously, trying to remember every damn moment of this and trying to anchor myself to the ground.
I will be strong today.
I will end what is hurting me the most.
I will not be weak anymore.
Standing at the door, suddenly, I realize no matter what I tried to remember to tie me to here, it will never hurt less; it will never be more than heartbreak on the other side of this door. I release a few breaths, avoiding going in for as long as I can. Finally, I do it. I bite the bullet and open the door. My hand on the knob is the most prominent feeling. It’s cold, just like the aura around me, around this day, around this moment.
Pushing through, I look around at the apartment, and it looks like it’s been ransacked. Everything is thrown around, and things are broken all over the place. “A bender,” I whisper, unsure what version of Eric I will get today.
“Eric?” I holler into the apartment. I hear movement toward the bedroom, so I take a few steps but fall short, my heart rate dropping to my feet.
Jokes on me when I realize I walked into exactly what I said it was.
Two men with masks over their faces step out into the hall, and we all halt. We look at one another for what feels like minutes but it’s really just a split second before my survival instincts kick in and I turn to run.
I hear my heartbeat in my eardrums beating out of control as they chase after me. I nearly clear the door when they gain on me and pull me back into the apartment. One grabs me and throws me to the ground, and the other shuts the door and locks it, the sound echoing hauntingly. As I soon learn, these aren't everyday robbers. These are collectors. Eric owes money, and they came to collect, and me? I just got caught in the crossfire.
“Where is he, bitch?” The man who threw me to ground climbs on me, sitting on my stomach as he takes my hands and throws them above my head. Holding them there with one hand, he uses his others to slap me. I scream, and this angers him. “Grab something to put in this bitch’s mouth. She’s a screamer.”
“Please, I don't know where he is, and I won’t say anything. Just let me go, please.” I think about mentioning having someone outside waiting for me and that they will come looking, but I don't risk them going out there and taking Sadie.
“You’re all over this apartment. You're the pretty thing in all the pictures.” He gestures to some of the photos I have placed around the apartment.
“Please. I won’t tell anyone. I have nothing to offer you.”
“Ah, you’ve been here before.” He takes his hand and drags it down the side of my cheek. “You know what we’re here for.” He shakes his head, and I know that look in his eyes. “Tsk. Tsk. What a stupid man to owe a debt when he has a pretty girlfriend like you to offer up. Stupid man, isn't he?”
I shake my head as his hand travels down my neck and closer to my chest. “Fuck you, you lowlife!” I spit, doing anything to get him to stop. I would take a beating of any kind before I suffer that.
“Bitch!” He punches me, and although I was expecting him to react that way, I wasn't ready for the impact. He hit me so hard my head hit the hardwood floor and bounced up and back down again. A billion black dots swarm in my line of vision.
“Give us the money, or give us you. End of story,” the other man says, standing above me.
I shake my head and cry. “Please,” I beg.
“Begging makes it all that more fun, baby.” The smell of his breath is rancid as it skates across my face, and I know without a shadow of a doubt I have no option.
“How much does he owe?”
Eric has spent his fame money on his addiction, and I know he doesn't have it. But the only money I have is what was going to get me out of here and on my own to start a new life one day.
“Five grand. You got that kind of money, sweet thing? I hope not, because I’d much rather have you as my bitch.”
I nearly vomit, the bile making a burning journey to my throat. “Yes. I do. In the bedroom, in the third shoebox to the left in the back of the closet.”
He nods at the other man, and he takes off toward the room. He comes out a few minutes later. “It’s all here. We’re good.”
“Shame, I was excited to take this for a spin. But we can’t risk you running, pretty thing.” The man atop me says, his hand still tight on my neck, limiting my oxygen.
Suddenly, he blindsides me, hitting me so hard in the face that those dots turn into complete darkness and I lose awareness of my surroundings. The last sound I hear before I completely fade out is their feet fleeting.
Chapter Five
Nick
Listening to her tell me everything that happened is like having hands around my neck, draining all the blood and life from me. If I wasn't so worried about being here for her, I would spend the next few hours in my car searching high and low and in every druggie-ridden crevice of this town to find Eric. I should have went with her, should have protected her like I always said I would. I failed her, and now I’m stuck in this mind game of guilt and vengeance.
“Is she good to go?” I ask the paramedic, and he gives me the okay. I pick her up then, cradling her in my arms.
“Nick, I don't need you to carry me,” she protests, but her body leans into mine.
“Yeah, well, last time I let you out of my sight, I almost lost you.”
“Please don't blame yourself. That would make this worse for me,” she begs, and I bite my tongue, that broken look in her eyes even worse than what I’ve seen for the past three years. I place her in the car and go back to the officers.
I peer back at the car, and there are still tears rolling down her cheeks. I crack my neck and release a deep breath.
“Officer, do you need anything else from us?”
“No, not as of right now. She told me everything, and I will be in contact if I need anything else.”
I nod. “Can you take my number and call me if you need her or have any questions?”
“Will do, sir. What is the number I can contact you at?”
I give him my number, and he jots it down.
“Here is my card as well. If she remembers anything else, have her contact me.”
I shake his hand and don't say anything else, ready to get in the car to comfort my girl.
I round the front of the car, and her eyes follow me. Kate won’t ask for comfort or anything, but her eyes say a thousand words. I can tell everything Kate thinks, feels, and so desperately wants to say but refuses because that would mean she needs someone. She doesn't like to show weakness. Believing she got herself in this mess has been her biggest downfall.
Do we truly ever get ourselves into our messes, or do the messes find us and disguise themselves as love then destroy us when we no longer have the control?
As I climb in the car, she turns her face to look out the window, avoiding eye contact.
“Kate?”
“No, Nick. Not now.” Her words aren't harsh, but they are finite. I choose not to speak. She’ll come to me when she's ready. The drive is quiet, and between her pain and my rage, I’m convinced the car with set ablaze. My phone rings, and Ben’s name appears on my dash screen.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“I found him.”
Kate visibly shakes then goes stone-cold.
I grab my cell at the red light and remove the Bluetooth and place my phone to my ear. “Where?”
“I’m not telling you that, but he knows what happened.”
“Don’t fuck around, Ben.” I clench the steering wheel.
“I can’t let you know where he is, because you're not capable at the moment to make any logical decisions.”
My nostrils flare, and I release a heavy breath, pressing down hard on my throttle the second the light switches to green. “You don't get to make that choice for me. He is the reason Kate is hurting, and I’m not going—”
“Please don’t, Nick. I need you more than I need to watch you walk out the door to defend me. I need you right now,” Kate interrupts us, and I look over at her.
“Kate,” I protest.
“Don’t make me beg. It’s not my style, and I won’t do it.” That look in her eye is gut-wrenching, and it calms me down.
“I will call you tomorrow. I’m taking her to my place. Let us be for the night.” I end the call before I let Ben respond.
I drop my phone in the cup holder, and I take a chance. I reach my hand over and touch her knee.
“Can you take care of a broken soul?” she questions.
There is a pregnant pause, a thousand words wracking my brain, but the only ones that make sense make their way out.
“Yours. Only yours.”
“Good. Because it’s a fucking mess.” She hurries to turn her head to hide her shudders as her chest shakes and trembles.
Little does she know I’ve prepared for years now to take care of her and heal her wounds when she was ready. I knew she would one day find the strength to say goodbye to Eric. Did I think the damage would be this bad? No. But Kate is no burden. She's not a choice. She’s a desire, a necessity, a lifeline, a hand in fate, and I will take on all that damage, all that mess, and all that pain if it means she can see her worth again or feel her heart beating again. If I can revive the love of my life, then I’ll be a whole man again.
Pulling up to my house, I get out, and Kate waits for me. This action shocks me. Usually, she's out of the car before anyone can even think about opening her door. Walking around to her side, I open the door and hold out my hand. She takes it, and when her feet hit the ground, I pick her up again, cradling her to my chest.
“Nick,” she scolds.
“Don’t. Not now, Kate,” I repeat her words from just a few minutes ago in the car. With great restraint, she gives up the fight. We get inside and head straight for the bathroom, and I start her shower. The blood on her face has dried, and the bruises on her neck have begun to show in a shade of purple.
She undresses while I make sure the temperature is right. When it’s warm enough, I turn to her. She stands naked, still beautiful in all her pain and bruises. There are so many emotions storming in me, but the one that outweighs them all is my need to make her feel safe.
“In you go.” I take her hand and help her climb inside. Once she steps in the water, I begin to undress, knowing damn well what I plan to do.
“Nick?”
“Yes, love?”
“What are you doing?” I remove my shoes then my jeans and briefs, now naked in front of her.
“Taking care of you.” Those tears come back, and when I think she’ll fight it, she surrenders, and it is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to witness.
I climb in, and she instantly clings to me. She mistakes this for weakness, I’m sure, but if she only knew it’s not weakness but a true emblem of her strength.
I wrap her up, the water cascading over us, the steam surrounding us. “Breathe through it, love. Take a deep breath and let it out on me.” I run circles over her back, the skin smooth and bare, a place I’ve never been, and it may sound inappropriate given the circumstances, but it feels perfect. I want this skin on me forever.
Her nipples and beautiful breasts press into my abs, her pouted lips gently resting against my pec as she cries against me. I kiss the top of her head, her hair still smelling like the rose shampoo she uses.
Time feels fleeting in this moment. I don't want to lose this closeness or this sense of security. I have never once in my life felt so connected to a human, or felt a love so deep for a woman before. Kate is my everything, and she's at the tips of my fingers and rubbing against my skin, so connected, and I swear I can feel her heart beating inside her and surging through me.
Kate breaks the silence, and it’s as if she’s reading my mind. “I have to say goodbye before I can ever give you anything. I’m awful for loving two men.” She drops her head. I don't care if it makes me sound pathetic, but I don't give a fuck who she loved before me, just as long as she loves me in a way she has never loved anyone else.
“I can understand that. Even though I don't want to, I can support you in that choice. Because I lo—”
“No. Please.” She drops her head to my chest, not letting me say the words I need to. The words I have hidden for years and kept to myself for longer then I should. But once again, I bite my tongue, because it would be selfish of me to do that when she's going through this. I’m a man, not a selfish prick.
“No more crying. It’s gonna give you wrinkles like me.” I humor her, and it works slightly. She looks up at me, her tears mingling with the water. I cup that beautiful freckled face, those sweet-looking spots darkening from her tears.
“There she is. Let me keep this woman for the night. Yeah?”
She nods weakly, but she's trying her best, and that’s all I can ask for.
We spend time in the shower, me holding her, feeling her, hearing her heartbreak that slowly tries its damnedest to heal again. We clean off the blood, and her body begins to soften. She must be exhausted.
“Bed.”
“That a question or demand?” she sasses me.
“Both. You need your rest, and your body needs to heal. You'll be on Nick house arrest until you’re feeling better.” I dress her in some of my clothing. She looks breathtaking when she's makeup-free and covered in nothing but my T-shirt, even with the dark bruises.
“Then you need to watch movies with me. Chick flicks.” She crosses her arms, challenging me.
“Kate. I am not emasculated by giving my girl what she wants. I also don't back down from what I want. Which is yo
u on the bed, resting. No matter the circumstances.” I mimic her, crossing my arms against my bare chest. She admires my muscles, and I smile smugly.
Quirking a brow, she stares me down, and I have no intentions of backing down. “Ugh. You're annoying. Fine. But don't think you can boss me around just because I’m in shit deeper than my knees.”
I crack, laughing. My hand hits my chest, and she punches me lightly against my abs. I use my other hand to touch where she just hit. These moments. That’s where I see it. Moments where there are four kids and no sleep shared between us. Laughter filling a home we built together. And if I weren't a mature man, I would fear that thought. The idea of a life with her.
I may not be able to have my own kids, but I will adopt a houseful of children as long as she lets me, and she gets to raise them. I will give her every ounce of love, life, and honor that I have.
“Stop looking at me like that. I’m tired, and I don't want to talk about what that look means.”
“What look?” I question, pulling the sheets on my bed back and adjusting my pillow, while she rounds to the other side, adjusting it the way she likes.
This feels so normal to me. Everything about it feels like we’ve been doing this for years. Sure, Kate and I have been the best of friends, but the way we move is unplanned, unintentional, and absolutely natural. When I met Kate, we clicked instantly. Everything felt right, and that only grew with years of secret sharing, emotional breakdowns, and laughter. Each moment built a connection that can’t be explained.
“You know the look. Don't pretend you don’t. Aren't you going to take the couch?”
I climb in and rest my head on my hands behind me. “Why would I do that?”
She puts her hands on her hips. “Because that would mean we are sharing a bed. Isn't that a bit too intimate?”
I give her an incredulous look. “I just had you beautiful body pressed against me. Naked. Wet and all mine. Falling asleep next to me shouldn’t be too intimate.”
Her jaw drops, and she huffs, climbing in. She's on the very edge when she finally settles, and I wait a minute, letting her have a little bit of a fit if it will make her feel better.
