“I didn’t tell my mom until the hospital.” Van could hear the tears in her voice. “See, she works for his dad—she’s his assistant. Tyler always threatened his dad would fire her if I told her what was going on or if I went to the police.”
Van’s hands clenched into fists. The more he heard, the angrier he got. “What did she say?”
Lila took another sip of coffee before answering. “She wanted to call the police, to report him. I talked her out of it.”
His eyebrows went up practically to his hairline. Lila convinced her mom not to report it? “But he put you in the hospital.” Van was beyond confused.
Now Lila did look at him. Her hazel eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Look, my mom needs her job. My dad left us years ago and she’s still got my younger brother to think about. I didn’t want to risk her getting fired over something like this.” She closed her eyes and a tear slipped out from beneath her closed lid.
Van swallowed, feeling dangerously off balance. “Okay,” he whispered.
“I was changing schools anyway,” Lila said softly, opening her eyes. “That’s what caused our last fight—I finally told him I wasn’t going back to State.” She lightly touched the scar on her forehead. “I figured that was enough, that I’d be safe here.”
“Do you feel safe now?” he asked, curious about what she’d say.
She startled, actually meeting his eyes fully for the first time all night. “Like, right now?” Her voice had dropped lower, and it did things to him below the waist.
His gaze skipped to the door, then back to Lila. He licked his lips. “Yeah,” he answered, his own voice strangely quiet, as if perhaps he spoke too loud he’d break the spell they were under. “Like right now.”
Her eyes dropped down to his mouth and he watched her pink tongue come out and wet her lips. Lila’s voice was barely audible when she spoke. “Yes. I suppose I do feel safe.” Her next words came out on a sigh. “With you.”
Very slowly so as not to frighten her, Van lowered his head, watching her eyes the whole time. He watched them spark with something like fear, but that faded, morphing into desire. Her eyelids began to slide closed, lashes fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings. Lila lifted her head slightly, angling her mouth towards his.
His lips had just touched hers, lightly brushing against them, when the sound of a key in the lock interrupted them. Lila’s eyes opened as Van pulled away. She leaned forward and grabbed her cup of coffee, giving him a small smile.
Gretchen entered the room with all of the finesse and grace of a Cat 5 hurricane. She dumped her coat and bag on the floor, oblivious to what she’d just interrupted. “I couldn’t enjoy myself thinking about Tyler. We walked back to Shonda’s and I asked her to take me home,” she said, even though no one had asked her for an explanation.
Van went ahead and stood up, taking his half-empty cup of coffee into the kitchen and putting it in the sink. “If you two are good, then I’m going to take off.”
Lila moved to get off the sofa to see him out, but Van waved her back down. “Don’t get up. I can see myself out.” He waved at her roommate. “Later, G-Love!”
“Thanks for the ride home,” Lila offered with a shy smile. “And the talk.”
“Any time, Lila.” He grinned, finding that he meant it. “I’ll see you later.”
He could feel Gretchen’s eyes on him as he walked out the door. He didn’t envy Lila the grilling she was likely to get. He found himself smiling again, and wondered what was wrong with him. What was he thinking? Lila was hot as hell, but he’d vowed to steer clear of any and all relationships likely to require work. He didn’t want a girlfriend, wasn’t even sure he ever would after what happened to his family.
But Lila made him question all of that. She was dangerous to his peace of mind. He wanted to spend more time with her, wanted to learn everything about her. But nothing good could come of that, and he knew it. It didn’t make sense to get attached, especially a girl with a psycho ex-boyfriend stalking her. If that wasn’t work, he didn’t know what was.
Still, he rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth, feeling the faint press of her lips on his all over again.
Chapter Eighteen
Lila went to work on Monday morning, feeling like a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She’d spent her entire Sunday inside her apartment, not ready to risk another run-in with Tyler. She got ahead on her readings for class and the apartment was nearly spotless. She and Gretchen had celebrated with a marathon viewing session of what they had on their DVR. Shonda had come over, bringing dinner with her.
Now Lila put out the brew pots, wiping down the counters as she went. Lila was surprised at how good she felt. She’d actually slept well both nights, which was a real shock. She’d been expecting another round of nightmares, but no dreams had plagued her. She’d woken up feeling refreshed.
Lila checked the condiment area, making sure there was plenty of cream and sugar. The morning rush had already passed, with the students in the earlier classes having already been through. Now it was just dealing with the regulars and those people who had mid-morning classes. A few patrons sat at the wooden tables, either reading the papers the coffee shop provided, or working on last minute homework for a class later in the day.
The bell rang on the door, causing Lila to look up from her task of cleaning the frother. Van stepped inside, smiling when he saw her behind the counter. She felt a bloom of butterflies begin their incessant fluttering in her stomach at the sight of him. It was a strange feeling, one she hadn’t experienced in over two years. She wasn’t sure she even wanted to feel this way right now. But she couldn’t deny the attraction she felt towards Van.
“Your usual?” she asked as he came up to the counter.
“Yeah, thanks.” He placed his money down while she poured his coffee. “How are you doing?”
She handed him his coffee so he could doctor it as he pleased and leaned against the counter. “I’m good. Quiet Sunday.” When he raised his eyebrows at her, she grimaced. “No unwanted visitors. Gretchen didn’t let me out of her sight. How about you?”
“Same.” He grinned, ducking his head. “Well not with the whole Gretchen thing.”
Lila laughed. She liked talking to Van—he was easy to talk to. It felt good to just hang out with a guy, without feeling like she had to navigate some hidden minefield. She’d locked down so much of herself when she was with Tyler because he hadn’t liked or wanted to see those parts of her that it was nice to actually be who she really was with someone.
It felt like waking up from a long sleep.
“I’ve gotta get to class. Catch up with you later?”
She handed him a lid for his to go cup. “Sure.” Before he could leave, Lila put her hand over his. It felt warm and strong beneath hers. It felt good. “Thanks for the other night. It helped…to talk about it, I mean.”
He left his hand beneath hers for a few more moments before pulling away reluctantly. “Glad I could help,” he said in a voice that started the damn butterflies fluttering again. “See you.”
“Yeah,” Lila answered, watching his retreating back. “See you.”
Chapter Nineteen
Lila walked to the student health building. After her talk with Gretchen, she realized that her roommate was right—Lila needed some help. Despite the weekend’s reprieve, her nightmares were getting worse, not better, and the dread that she felt at going home for Thanksgiving break was only growing as the days on the calendar ticked down. She had to do something. Chances are she’d run into Tyler at some point when she was home on one of her breaks—if not Thanksgiving, then definitely Christmas break—especially if he made it a point to seek her out.
And Lila knew without a doubt that he would. She’d received two more calls from strange phone numbers over the last week. She hadn’t answered them and the caller hadn’t left a message. Whether or not it was Tyler on a borrowed phone, Lila’s nerves were shot. She felt like she was goin
g to throw up every time the damn thing rang. She had to do something.
She stopped at the reception desk. “I was wondering if it would be possible to talk to someone about counseling?” Lila asked the bored looking girl sitting behind it.
A clipboard full of forms was shoved at her, pen tucked beneath the clip. “Fill these out. I’ll see who’s available.”
Lila found a seat and began filling out what amounted to a bunch of information she’d already filled out a hundred times when applying for and then accepting admission to Davis. She’d memorized it and jotted it down with practiced ease while her eyes sized up the space. Sofas and chairs abounded in the waiting room, a few small tables scattered here and there. A rack of magazines along one wall. A door that led somewhere, back offices maybe. All sterile and clinical and just like every other waiting room she’d ever been in.
She finished the personal info pages and flipped to the next set. This was harder, and she almost lost her nerve right there. The words Purpose of Visit swam before her eyes. She managed to write the vaguest thing she could think of to describe why she was here. Then she couldn’t go any further without breaking out in a sweat.
This was a mistake. She wasn’t ready to talk about this, not now. She stood up to leave, unable to finish the papers on the clipboard when the door opened. A pleasant older woman—perhaps in her late thirties—stepped through and smiled at her.
“Hey there, come on back.” She beckoned Lila with a fluttering hand. “I’m Abigail Feinberg.”
Lila clutched the clipboard to her chest, like it was a shield or a piece of armor. “I haven’t filled out the paperwork.”
“You can do that back here, after we talk. Come on,” she invited her again.
Lila looked longingly to the double doors that led out of the building. Then she squared her shoulders and walked over to Ms. Feinberg. “Hi, I’m Lila.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” the woman said warmly. Lila suspected she actually meant those words. “Right this way.” She led them down a hall and past a series of closed doors. She stopped at the last door on the left and gestured for Lila to go inside. “Here we are.”
Lila took a seat in front of a utilitarian desk while Ms. Feinberg closed the door behind them. She still clutched the clipboard like a lifeline, her knuckles tense and white. Her eyes followed the woman as she sat in the chair next to Lila, rather than behind the desk. Ms. Feinberg swiveled it so that she faced Lila.
“So what brings you here?” Her voice was warm and her face was open and accepting.
Lila looked down quickly, fiddling with the pages in her hand. “Um, my boyfriend—ex-boyfriend, I mean, I’m not dating him anymore, he used to hit me.”
If she was expecting a reaction, Lila was disappointed. There was no judgment in the older woman’s gaze, no intake of breath, no pity on her face. She simply leaned forward the slightest bit. “How long did you two date?”
“We got together the summer before my senior year, so about two years, maybe a little less.” Lila bit her lip to keep from losing control and sobbing like a baby.
Ms. Feinberg nodded once, but her open expression didn’t change. “And when did he start hitting you?”
Staring at the ceiling, Lila remembered the first time so clearly. It had been after the hand incident. That had supposedly been an accident, although now Lila highly doubted it. Maybe a month or two had passed, enough that the splints and bandages were off her fingers. Tyler’d had a practice game and his team hadn’t won. In fact, he’d made a critical error that caused a member of the other team to get into scoring position. Lila had watched the whole thing while she studied, trying to be supportive. Tyler’s moods had been all over the place lately, and he spent most of his free time with his teammates, either practicing or working out. He was putting on muscle quickly, bulking up his upper body with the training regimen the coaches had him on. But he’d also gotten meaner, his temper a hair-trigger thing that went off at the strangest times.
Lila had waited for him after the game, since they’d planned to get dinner together at the closest dining hall. But when he’d come out, he was furious. He didn’t want to eat, he just wanted to go back to his room. Lila had gone with him, thinking that he’d change his mind or that they’d order a pizza or something. She didn’t get to see him much.
When they’d got there, he’d taken some pills—vitamins, she’d thought—and swallowed down a prepackaged protein shake. Lila’s hand still ached, especially in rainy weather, and she had developed the habit of rubbing her fingers. She’d sat on his bed while he railed about his playing, tossing his gear around and getting more worked up by the second.
She wanted out of there. When she stood up to leave, Tyler had practically snarled at her. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Lila flinched, she couldn’t help it. “I…I thought I would go and get us something to eat. You know, bring it back here since you don’t feel like going out.”
“Are you fucking blind, Lila?” he’d shouted, pointing at the discarded shake. “I just drank that!”
“Sure,” she said, trying to stay calm. “But you need real food, right?” His towering rage seemed to take up all of the space in the room, leaving nowhere for her to go. All she wanted was to leave.
“I’m training, Lila. Do you not understand what that means?” He rolled his eyes, then took a step closer to her. She took an automatic step back, hoping to keep the space that was between them. “I do what they say, lift what they say, eat what they say, and then I play when they say. Do you get that?”
“Y-yes,” she said.
“And I’m doing everything they say and I’m still making stupid mistakes out there. I know you saw it!” His green eyes were wild, the pupils swallowing up the iris.
“It was just a practice game, Tyler. It didn’t mean anything.”
And he’d hit her. Just cracked her across the face with the back of his hand as if she were nothing. It had shocked her more than hurt her, at least at first. Then her cheek began to throb, the blood pulsing beneath her skin. She put her hand up to her face, unable to form words, just stared up at him with wide eyes.
He snorted air through his nose, his face gone white. “Jesus, Lila. I’m sorry.” He reached out to her, but she flinched away, not wanting him to put his hands on her. She reached out for her backpack, pulling it over to her without taking her eyes from Tyler.
“I’m going to go now.” Her voice had been calm, eerily so. She kept waiting for the break down, for the tears. But all that was in her was a strange blankness, almost as if she’d somehow known this was where the relationship was heading. She’d expected she’d feel surprised if her boyfriend hit her. She never expected to feel this emptiness.
“Lila, wait,” he’d said, his voice rising even as he’d tried to block her way. “Look, I’m sorry. But you’ve got to understand that what you said—it’s just—ugh! It’s not just a practice game. These games show the coach what we can do, how good we are. These determine if we start when it really matters. So when you said it was just practice, I—well—I lost it.” He ran a hand through his hair, gripping strands hard between his fingers. “I’m under so much pressure, Lil, and you’re the only one I can talk to—who understands what this means to me. I need your support. I need you.”
“Okay,” Lila remembered saying, still in that calm voice. “But I’m going to go now.”
“Please, Lila. I didn’t mean to hit you. I’m sorry. It won’t ever happen again. Just don’t say anything, okay? I swear. It will never happen again.” He was sweating now, and the reek was getting to her. She needed to get out to the quad, to walk back to her own dorm. She needed to be somewhere else.
“Please, Lila. Promise me we’re okay. I love you, baby. I really, really do.”
Lila remembered feeling like this was anything but love. Still, she said she loved him back—anything to get out of the room. She’d even smiled and given him a peck on the cheek.
She pu
t her hands to her mouth, heartsick with remembering. “It was our freshman year of college—last year.”
“Is he enrolled here?”
She startled. “No. I changed schools to get away from him.”
“Okay. Is he still in contact with you? Does he email or text you? Friends on Facebook?”
Lila looked down at her hands. “He calls me sometimes. Usually when he’s been drinking. And he sends me emails. He says he wants to talk to me, but I haven’t answered his calls or emails. I, uh, I don’t want to talk to him.”
“Is he threatening you?” Ms. Feinberg’s voice was calm and steady.
She shrugged, unsure how to answer that. “He was up here a few weekends ago and he cornered me in the ladies room. But he didn’t hurt me.”
“Has he been in contact with your friends or family? Has he been threatening with them?”
Lila stared at Ms. Feinberg, shocked. “I don’t think so, at least not my friends.” Lila didn’t think Tyler’s run in with Van at Bosco’s counted. “He did threaten my mom’s job and my brother in high school before I left for school this summer.”
“But nothing toward them recently? That you know of?”
“No, nothing.” Lila could feel the knot in her stomach beginning to loosen just the slightest bit.
Ms. Feinberg leaned forward slightly. “So let’s get back to the first time he hit you. That wasn’t the first time he was abusive, was it?”
Lila shook her head. “No.” She took a deep breath. “I just feel so stupid, you know? I mean, I didn’t think I was the kind of girl who would let a guy hit her. I thought I was stronger than that. That I was smarter than that! I just keep wondering how I could have been so stupid! Like, what was wrong with me—why did I stay with him for so long?” Lila looked down at her empty hands, as if they held any answers.
Ms. Feinberg leaned forward, her expression kind but serious. “You did nothing wrong. In fact, what you are feeling is pretty normal. I think every woman in your situation wonders why they stayed so long, or how the relationship got to that point.” She held Lila’s gaze, brown eyes warm behind her glasses. “I think the thing you have to remember was that it wasn’t your fault. Young women feel like they’re supposed to keep relationships together when the truth is that both partners are responsible for their own behavior.”
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