CHAPTER ONE
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
Because of having to design a bride’s dress, a maid of honor’s dress, four bridesmaids’ dresses, and a mother of the bride’s dress to be ready in a little over two months, I ended up working late on Thursday.
It was almost six in the evening when I left Fallon’s studio. Of course, she was still there, laboring away.
My car was parked on the thin strip of concrete Fallon called a parking lot. At least it fit our cars, parked tightly at the back of the lot, and about four or five other compact cars. Maneuvering in or out wasn’t always easy, but today, there was only Fallon’s and my car there.
As I turned the corner from the sidewalk into the parking lot, something charged me and rammed my body into the building’s wall. My back hit the concrete wall with a loud thud, and the pain radiated through my body. My lungs compressed and I gasped for air, which didn’t come, as a clammy, strong hand closed around my throat.
I scrambled to focus, to regain composure, to understand what was happening. A face appeared before my eyes, only a couple of inches from mine. A man’s face. A man’s face I had seen only once before.
Mike, Evie’s abusive husband.
Panic rose from deep inside my chest.
“What do you think you’re doing, bitch?” he asked, his voice rough. His breath reeked of alcohol.
I gasped. Even if I knew what to say to him, I couldn’t. Fear paralyzed me, and his hand on my throat was tight enough to make speech difficult.
“Mike,” I tried, but it came out as a croak. “Let … let me go.” I pushed on his shoulders, but the man didn’t budge. “Please.”
He punched the wall, half an inch from my face. Desperate tears filled my eyes, making my already blurred sight worse. “It doesn’t matter what kind of ideas you put in Evie’s head, she’ll always come back to me. Always.” He jerked me off the wall, only to push me back hard into it. My head slammed against the facade, and my vision went dark. “You’ll regret it, bitch.”
His hand tightened around my throat. I was swimming in a dark sea made of oil. Even though I moved my arms and legs, fighting with each stroke, the oil carried me further and further from the shore, until it swallowed me, and I couldn’t do anything other than let it take me.
A gush of air rushed down my throat, burning its way to my lungs as I slid down the wall and fell on the concrete ground in a numb heap. Through the pain and burning, I gasped, willing my lungs to work. Slowly, my hearing focused and my vision cleared.
With a bloody nose, Mike spat at my feet, then turned and ran.
Gui knelt in front of me.
I stared, in shock. He had a cut on his lower lip and a red bruise on his left temple. His eyes, though, his eyes looked at me with pure concern and fear.
“Are you hurt?” he asked. I still stared, not sure what had happened. “Hil, answer me, please. Are you hurt?”
I started shaking my head, but pain radiated through my skull. “Ow,” I muttered, closing my eyes and pressing my hands on the top of my head.
Gui cursed under his breath. “All right, let’s go.” He took my hands in his and pulled me up. Still shaking, I could barely stand. A wave of dizziness overcame me and I leaned against the wall for support.
“Just … give me a moment,” I rasped, my throat still burning.
“Where are your car keys?”
“Purse. Outside pocket.”
He glanced around and found my purse on the ground, my portfolio case next to it. He picked up my things, grabbed the car keys, clicked the button to open the car, slid the strap of my purse up his arm, put my portfolio case between his knees, then he slid one arm around my back and the other under my knees and lifted me as if I were a rag doll.
“What …?” I started protesting, but with the shaking and the dizziness, I could barely take two steps on my own.
Somehow, Gui picked up the portfolio case with one of his hands and carried me and all my stuff to my car. He stopped by the door, raised one knee, and rested my bottom against his leg, while he opened the door and threw my stuff in the backseat, and then he picked me up again and deposited me on the passenger seat. He ducked inside the car with me, and pulled the seat belt around me. I could feel his arms and hands touching me, and I knew that, another time, another day, I would actually like this, but today I was too numb to think about him like that. One good thing I realized as he raced around the car and slipped into the driver’s seat was that, even though I had all the reasons to have a panic attack now, it didn’t come. And I should have been cowering from him too, and I wasn’t.
Gui started the car. “What’s the closest hospital?”
“W-what?”
“Hospital. You’re hurt and I’m taking you to the hospital.”
I pressed a hand where my head had hit the wall, then stared at it. It still hurt like crazy, and every time I moved my head too fast, the pain radiated everywhere, but there was no blood.
“I’m fine,” I said.
“No, no, you’re not. I’m taking you to the hospital. Tell me where the nearest one is before I search for one on my phone.”
Looking into his eyes, I laid my hand on his extended arm. “Gui, I’m fine now. Yes, it hurts, but I think I’ll only have a bump. Please, don’t take me to the hospital. I hate hospitals.” In my gaze, I tried to show him I was serious, I was honest.
I saw the battle in his eyes. His knuckles were white around the steering wheel and his jaw popped every few seconds. He wanted to argue, he wanted to disagree, but with an exasperated sigh, he nodded and backed out of the parking lot. I watched him as he turned the car toward our building, and for the first time, I noticed his clothes. He was wearing black sweatpants and a blue Montenegro T-shirt and sneakers. His hair was disheveled and his phone was strapped to his arm.
“You were out running,” I said.
“Yes. I change my course every few days, so I don’t get bored. I started running down this street three days ago. Graças a Deus.”
“Thank you.”
Eyes on the road, he shook his head. “You have nothing to thank me for. I just wish …” He pressed his lips tight.
“What?”
“I wish I had been able to knock the guy unconscious and call the cops. Or at least landed a few more punches on him before he got away.” He stole a quick glance at me. “Que merda! What happened? The guy was robbing you? Or …” He shut his mouth, probably too afraid to say the R word. I was too.
“Neither.” I looked down at my hands. They still shook. “His name is Mike. His wife, Evangeline, is one of the women at the women’s center I visit every couple of weeks. We became friends and she told me all about him.” A tear slid down my cheek and I wiped it away. I hadn’t even noticed I was about to cry. “He’s … There are no words to describe him. He’s the worst kind of man there is. But Evie is too afraid to confront him and leave him. So, every now and then, she goes back to him. Then she comes back to the women’s center. I’m trying to help her, to convince her to leave him for good.” I snorted. “Me and all the staff at the center. But, for some reason, she’s not strong enough. A few days ago, I visited her and we talked a long while about that. She said she would finally do it, and I believed her this time. I checked with her a few days ago, and she still hadn’t done it, but my guess is that she left, or tried to, otherwise …”
“He wouldn’t have come after you,” Gui finished for me.
“I never thought he would do something like that. I didn’t even know she had mentioned me to him, but apparently she told him enough.”
“He knows where you work.” Gui punched the wheel, startling me. “Sorry, sorry.”
I just nodded and focused on him. Because if I didn’t, if I let my mind wander, if I let myself think about what had happened, if I let my emotions creep into me, I would succumb to the worst panic attack I had since the night that started this mess.
Taking deep breat
hs, I ignored my hands shaking and watched Gui as he drove the few blocks to our apartments. His hands clenched and unclenched the wheel, his arms taut, the muscles flexing with each of his movements. The blue shirt had a big wet spot on his back and his chest. His shirt clung to his skin, revealing the strong muscles beneath. His face was serious, almost feral, his lips pressed together, his brows furrowed, his jaw hard. His damp, messy hair framed his beautiful face. I gulped down the realization that Gui was more than handsome. He was stunning. Like underwear-model slash rock star slash movie star stunning.
At a red light, Gui glanced at me.
“What?” he asked.
“Hm?”
“You’re staring at me.”
Warmth flooded my cheeks. “I’m trying not to think about what happened, and you’re the only thing to stare at here.”
One corner of his lips tugged up. “Are you trying to make me relax or something?”
The truth was, I was trying to make me relax. “Is it working?”
The frown between his brows deepened and his lips lost their almost smile. “I might be furious, and ready to throw a punch at someone, but I swear, I would never hurt you. You know that, right?”
A lot of men who had said that had lied. I also knew women felt incredible safe with their boyfriends or husbands before they turned violent—or before they were raped. But for some reason, deep in my heart, I knew Gui was different and that he would never, ever hurt me. “I know.”
We remained silent the rest of the way, and I kept my mind busy, so as not to give in to the panic and fear.
Using the remote control, he drove past the gate and into the parking lot under the building. He parked my car in my reserved spot, killed the car’s engine, and turned to me.
“I still wish you would let me take you to the hospital. Or to your doctor. Or your therapist.”
I took in a deep breath and let it out, calming my nerves before I spoke. “Gui, something big just happened. I was assaulted by a known violent man.” Gui flinched as if I had hit him. Each word was paused as it hurt saying them out loud. “I have the right to slip into one of my panic attacks. I thought I would have slipped into one by now—probably the biggest one since that day—but for the first time in three years, I’m staying in control. For the first time, I can feel the panic coming, and I’m not surrendering to it. I’m pushing it back. I’m not sure why I’m able to do this now, or how, but I am.” That wasn’t entirely true. I kind of suspected my newfound strength had something to do with Gui’s presence, but I didn’t want to give much thought to it. Not yet. “Please, please, don’t spoil that by taking me to my doctor or my therapist. If you take me to them, I’ll break down, and I really, really don’t want to break down right now.” A stubborn tear escaped from my eye.
Gui reached over, cupped my face, and wiped my tear with his thumb. His hand lingered, the warmth of his skin seeping into mine. “You’re strong, Hilary. Stronger than you think, and I’m proud of you right now.”
“Thanks,” I said, offering him a tiny smile.
As I averted my eyes, Gui pulled his hand away and opened the car’s door. “All right. Let’s get you home, then.”
Gui
I had a slight idea of the time Hilary got off work, so I showed up half an hour before and waited on the sidewalk. I walked up and down the street, kicked loose stones on the pavement, watched the cars go by, browsed Facebook, answered some emails, and waited.
Over an hour later, I thought about going inside and asking for Hilary. Maybe she had gone home early, and here I was, a freaking puppy waiting with a sad face. Or maybe she had listened to me and taken the day off. God knew she needed to rest after what happened yesterday.
I closed my eyes as rage coursed through my veins. I couldn’t even remember it without my blood boiling. And when my mind went further and I thought about what could have happened if I hadn’t decided to go running yesterday. That bastard could have raped her, killed her. I clenched my fists and allowed my rage one more minute before I got it under control.
I counted to twenty and took three long breaths. Then, I reached for the front door, but it opened before I could touch it and Hilary stepped out.
She halted when she saw me. “Gui? What are you doing here?”
“Hey, Hil.” I took off my baseball hat, ran my hand through my hair, and tucked the hat on my head again. “I … I just wanted to make sure you were safe today.” I glanced to the sides. No signs of any evil characters.
“Oh, hm.” Her cheeks reddened. “Thanks.”
“I’ve brought you something,” I said, grabbing her little gift from the back pocket of my jeans. I handed it to her.
With a frown, she picked up the small red plastic bag and spied inside. “Pepper spray.”
I shrugged. “I hope you never have to use it, but I thought that, after what happened yesterday, it might make you feel safer.”
“That’s … that’s a good idea. Thanks.” She turned the pepper spray in her hands, and then put it inside her purse. She opened her mouth, and then closed it again.
I took a step toward her. “What?”
She wrapped one hand around the strap of her purse, squeezing it tight. “Last night, after you brought me home, I was thinking that I should know how to defend myself.” She shook her head once, making her blond hair spill over her shoulders. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before, right after what Eric—” She pressed her mouth tight. “Anyway, I heard of a self-defense class, and even though my size—” She gestured to her delicate frame. “—might be a disadvantage, I could learn how to break free long enough to run or call for help.”
“That is a great idea,” I said. Pride filled my chest. “Do you have a place in mind?”
“No. I’m going to research more online this weekend. I remember seeing a flyer at the women’s center my mom and I go to, but it won’t start for another eight weeks. I don’t want to wait that long. I’m sure I can find a class somewhere.”
“No need to research.” I took a step toward her and grabbed her hand. “I know just the place.”
I pulled her with me, to my Jeep, which was parked across the street.
“Wait, hm, my car is in the parking lot.”
“I can drive you back here afterward, if that’s okay,” I suggested, opening the passenger door for her.
Hilary stared at me, those green eyes wreaking havoc in me. “Okay,” she whispered.
She hopped in the Jeep. I closed her door, and rushed to the other side. When I slid into the driver’s seat, Hilary had already buckled and she sat completely still.
“Are you okay?” I asked. She nodded, glancing at me for a second, before returning her attention to her purse on her lap. “Have you changed your mind? You don’t have to do this now, you know.”
She looked at me, her eyes conveying much more than she let on. “I know. It’s okay. Let’s do this now.” She sighed. “If I don’t, I might spend too much time researching and thinking about doing this and never actually doing it.”
Instinct hit me and I reached over, grabbing her hand. “I’m proud of you for taking action.” I squeezed tight.
She stared at our hands. “Thanks,” she whispered, squeezing my hand back.
It felt too fucking good to have her hand in mine. I had to control myself not to entwine our fingers. To not tug her to me. To not pull her into my lap. To not grasp her hips and leaned her down to me, and not to claim—
Clearing my throat, I pulled my hand away. “All right. Let’s go.”
The drive took only a couple of minutes. Hilary eyed the building as I parked my Jeep in the parking lot. I remembered the first time I saw it years ago. The building looked like a gray box with a few windows, and in desperate need of a new paint job. The metal sign In Shape over the door looked precarious, like it was going to fall at any second.
“I know it doesn’t look like much,” I said, killing the engine. “But it’s a good place. The guys and I co
me here at least three times a week to work out.”
“They offer self-defense classes here?” she asked.
“Sim. Once every two or three months, I think. Let’s go in and check it out.”
I opened the front door for her. As we walked to the reception desk, I noticed she scanned the place, taking it all in. At least it looked better on the inside. New flooring, well taken care of machines, updated couches in the waiting area, a nice snack bar, and in the back, the lockers and the large classroom with a wooden floor, a mirrored wall, and a glass wall that overlooked the main gym floor.
“Hello, Gui,” the receptionist said with a smile.
“Hi, Janice,” I said. Hilary snapped her attention to the receptionist. “This is Hilary. She’s interested in self-defense classes.”
“Oh.” Janice looked at Hilary from head to toe and back, her expression disgusted.
I suppressed a sigh. Janice had been flirting with me since she started working here a few months ago, and even though I knew she was serious about hooking up, I wasn’t. I wouldn’t sleep with her once, twice, three times at most, then send her away, just to have to see her all the time here. It would be too awkward. And who knew how she might react? She could try to sabotage one of the machines so the weights fell on me and killed me. I had vengeful girls attack me like that before. I knew it was bound to happen again.
If I ever slept with a random girl again.
I glanced at Hilary.
She knew about my reputation and she probably had heard the worst version, the one that was ten times worse than the truth. I never treated a girl badly, not before, during, or after being with her. All the girls knew that I didn’t like getting too involved before hooking up with me—I wasn’t trying to be a jerk. It just wasn’t in me. I had my career and my family to keep my mind and heart filled. I always thought that was enough.
Until now.
Hilary was also watching Janice, her eyes narrowed. Fuck. Knowing my reputation, Hilary probably thought I had already slept with the receptionist.
Breaking Through (The Breaking Series Book 3) Page 13
