by Steph Nuss
“What the hell, man?” I asked, pushing him off of me.
“What happened with Tessa this morning?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “She came into the gym crying.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, completely taken aback by his words. “She ran out of the apartment this morning like her ass was on fire, so I didn’t even get a chance to talk to her.”
“Did something happen last night after you got home?” Carter asked, seeming just as confused as me.
I leaned my head back against the wall and sighed. I’d just about hit my limit with these guys and their meddling. “When I got home, she was already pretty drunk, but we talked and she seemed like she was in a better mood. She thanked me with a kiss on the cheek, asked me to help her with her dress, and then she went to bed. Nothing happened.”
“Nothing happened?” Cash asked incredulously.
“You really are the stupidest guy ever!” Fletcher exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.
Maverick sighed, shaking his head in disappointment, while Carter just looked at me in disbelief.
“Do you like her?” Cash asked, harshly.
“What kind of question is that?” I asked, glaring at him. “Of course, I like her, but I’m not about to take advantage of her.”
“She was giving you the advantage!” Fletcher insisted bitterly. “I’m sorry, but this wasn’t just some accident where you ran into her naked. If she didn’t need your help getting the dress on, why would she need your help getting it off? She wanted you to take it off her. Jesus, Jameson, do we need to make you a playbook for how to get women?”
I rolled my eyes at him. “She said the zipper stuck.”
The four of them smiled at one another and then laughed. “Zipper’s stuck, my ass.”
I pushed off the wall with my foot and glared at them. “Is it so awful that I actually want her to have a good time with me? I don’t want to be the guy she uses to get over some asshole who stood her up. Look, I appreciate all the help you guys think you’re giving me, but I don’t need it. What I need is for you all to back off.” I made eye contact with Carter and added, “And maybe stop telling your wife everything we talk about!”
“Hey,” Carter said, pointing at Maverick. “He tells Harper shit, too.”
“What about this morning?” Maverick asked quizzically. “Why would Tessa have walked in here so upset?”
“I don’t know. Like I said, she barely talked to me this morning. She didn’t even give me the chance to introduce her to Whit before she stormed out of the place.”
“Wait,” Cash said, holding his hand up. “Whitley was there?”
“Yeah, she came over this morning because the drain in her shower stopped working, so she asked if she could use ours.”
Maverick thought about the situation for a second and then asked, “So, had she already taken a shower or—”
“Yeah, she stayed for a cup of coffee.”
“Jameson,” Fletcher muttered in a chastising tone, running a hand through his hair.
“What?” I asked, growing more irritated with them by the second. “What did I do wrong now?”
“Can you describe what Whitley was wearing while you two had coffee together?” Cash asked, laughing hysterically. “Please say just a towel!”
Oh fuck, I thought as I pictured the scene in my head, trying to imagine how Tessa might have seen it when she walked into the kitchen. It wasn’t pretty. I saw myself talking with a gorgeous woman clothed in just a towel. Even though I hadn’t given the towel much thought when I was actually talking to Whit, Tessa wouldn’t have missed it. “She must’ve thought Whit and I—”
“Exactly,” Maverick interjected.
“Why would she think that though?” I asked sharply, scowling. “I would never hang out with a woman and call another one for sex. She should know that!”
“Well, she has been screwed over by guys lately,” Carter explained.
“I don’t care!” I zipped my coat up harshly and looked at my friends. “She knows me. You guys know I would never fucking do something that shitty.”
They nodded, glancing at one another silently.
“I have to go,” I stated, shaking my head. “I have to talk to her. I can’t believe she’d think I’d do that to her.”
***
After running all the way back home, I’d calmed down from my initial outburst in the gym and found Tessa in her room. She was still in her yoga clothes, standing next to her bed, folding laundry. When she noticed me standing in the doorway, she dropped the shirt in her hand and shot me a weak smile. Her sad eyes gave her away, and I knew, despite it being the afternoon, this morning was still fresh in her mind.
“Hey,” she said in a soft voice.
I walked toward her, determined to ease her troubled thoughts as I explained. “The woman I had coffee with this morning was Whitley Gonzales. She lives across the hall from us, and called this morning asking if she could use our shower because her drain is broken. So, I let her use ours, and she also used your shower gel because she thought it smelled nice. She has an eight-year-old son named Zane. She works part-time as a nurse and spends the rest of her time doing volunteer work.”
Tears took over her eyes as she looked away from me, realizing that I knew.
I stalked closer and sat on the edge of her bed. “I wanted to introduce you to her this morning, but you ran out of here so fast, you didn’t give me the chance.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, turning her gaze down to the floor.
“For what? For thinking I’d hang out with you all night and then invite a different woman over for sex, or for not sticking around this morning to meet our neighbor?”
She worried her lip with her teeth. “Both.”
My hand curled around her neck and turned her face to look at me. “I would never treat someone like that, especially you.”
“I know,” she whispered, blinking away tears.
My other hand settled on her hip and pulled her in between my thighs. God, she looked so beautiful and raw standing in front of me right now. I wanted to crush my mouth to hers and show her all the ways she should be treated, but I knew I couldn’t.
Not right now.
Caressing my thumb over her cheek, I continued. “I’m not going to be the guy you use to get over another one. I’m not going to take advantage of you after you’ve been drinking.”
“Justin—”
“Please let me finish,” I insisted.
She nodded silently.
“I’m not going to be the bad guy, Tessa. You can do whatever you want to me. Put on every single dress you own and ask me to unzip you out of it. Run around the apartment stark-ass naked. I still won’t make a move on you. Not because I don’t want to, but because I respect you.”
“I wasn’t running around the apartment naked!” she insisted with an eye roll and a flush of her cheeks.
Laughing, I dropped both hands to her waist and then stood up. “I know, but don’t think I’m letting you live that down.”
I turned to walk out of her room, but she grabbed my hand and stopped me. Glancing over my shoulder, I noticed contentment in her eyes. I felt all the satisfaction I needed from her right then with that one look.
“Thank you, Justin.”
“For what?” I asked, curiously.
“For being the good guy.”
Chapter Ten
I spent the following evening with a guy named Mitch. We’d met at a nice restaurant in Midtown and had dinner. It wasn’t anything too special, mostly because I was still reeling from my moment with Justin yesterday. The way my thoughts kept wandering back to him during my dinner conversation with Mitch only confirmed how awful I was at online dating. I couldn’t wait to get home and tell Justin I was officially done with it.
Mitch hailed a cab outside of the restaurant and held the door open for me. I crawled in and told the driver my address as Mitch slid in next to me. He was
around my height with dark hair and pale skin. He worked as a mechanic and mostly talked about cars throughout our entire meal. Still, he had passion for his job that a lot of people lacked, and I appreciated that.
When we arrived at my building, Mitch got out and offered to walk me to my door, even though I insisted he didn’t need to.
“I want to,” he said, smiling.
So, I let him, even though he’d been somewhat touchy during the cab ride back to my place, making me feel uneasy as he brushed a piece of hair out of my face, his hand lingering too long for my liking.
“Good evening, Miss Wilder,” George said as we walked in.
“Thanks, George.”
Once Mitch and I arrived at my door, I started digging through my purse for my keys. I smiled at him and said, “Thank you again for dinner. I had a great time.”
“Me too,” he said in low voice. “Maybe we can do it again sometime.”
“Oh, uh—”
“Or maybe we can continue inside your place.” He placed both hands next to my face and caged me in, pressing his body up against mine as he leaned in to kiss me.
“I-I’m sorry, Mitch,” I said, turning my face away from him. “I didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression. I just—”
“You just what?” he spit out angrily, his breath hot against my skin. “Do you enjoy teasing men for a free meal?”
“What?” I asked, completely confused. “That’s not what I—”
“Oh, save it, bitch!” Before I could move, he swung his hand in the air and let it fly across my cheek in one quick slap that immediately sent me back to the past.
He grabbed my chin roughly and turned my face to look at him. “It’s women like you who don’t know when to shut the fuck up and just take it.”
As his grip on my chin tightened and he shoved me back against the door, I reached into my purse and grabbed the mace. I watched him raise his hand again in the air, but I was quicker. I lifted the bottle and sprayed him in the eyes before he had a chance to hit me again.
His hands clawed at his eyes as he cried out in pain, so I grabbed ahold of his shoulders and kneed him in the groin.
He moaned louder. “You fucking bitch!”
Hunched over with one hand over his eyes, the other holding his crotch, he eventually fell to the ground in the fetal position, too weak to stand.
“You maced me!”
“You deserved it.” I squatted down beside him, pulled the knife out of my purse and flipped the blade out. With my glove-clad hand, I opened one of his eyes with my fingers and twirled the blade in front of his face with my other hand.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he shouted, twitching in pain. “I’m sorry! Please, let go of my eye! Please!”
“If I ever see you again, I swear to God I will use this knife here to carve your pathetic excuse of a penis into unidentifiable flesh. Do you understand?”
“Yes, God, yes!”
“Remember that the next time you think about raising a hand to a woman.” I released him, shoving his head to the floor before standing up to catch my breath. I was still tightly clutching the knife in my hand. My body trembled as adrenaline rushed through my system, making it almost impossible to breathe. Numb, I stared down at the groaning asshole, rolling around on the floor in pain. I blinked once, but when I opened my eyes, I saw Trey’s dad lying in a pool of his own blood.
“Tessa,” Trey said, his voice shaking with fear. “You’re bleeding. What do you want me to do? Tell me what to do.”
“Call 9-1-1,” I answered, unable to take my eyes off the motionless body only a few feet away from me.
“But what about your cut?”
Removing my hand from the injury on my stomach, I found my palm lined in blood and immediately put it back on my cut, applying as much pressure as I could. “Get me a towel and then make the call, okay?”
“I’ll be right back.” He ran to the bathroom and came back with a trail of towels falling behind him. “What now?”
I grabbed one of the longer towels and sat up straighter, swallowing back the agony as it cut further into my system. With the bloody knife still clenched in my right hand, I finally let it fall to the floor beside me. Wrapping the ragged cotton around my waist, I tightly secured it over the cut and fastened it into a temporary bandage.
“There’s so much blood,” Trey stated, clearly shocked.
“Don’t look at it,” I advised, pulling his attention away from the maroon puddles that now hid our kitchen tiles.
His eyes rimmed with tears as he looked at me. “He could’ve killed you.”
“Tessa?” Justin asked, bringing me back to the present.
His hands covered the knife, and he took it from me. I studied my hands to make sure there wasn’t any blood on them, and found them still enveloped in the warmth of my gloves. I quickly untied my coat and pressed a hand to my side. It also came back clean.
Thank God.
“Come on,” Justin said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “Let’s get you inside.”
I nodded, and without a word, he walked me back into our apartment. Visions of the past mixing with the present flashed in my mind, causing me more paranoia with each step. Mitch’s words were on replay, but I saw my stepdad saying them.
Once inside, he closed the door and secured the lock. I quickly rid myself of my coat and gloves, and Justin pulled me into his arms for a tight hug. “Jesus, you’re shaking right now.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head as his hands caressed up and down my arms. I focused my attention on Justin. On the sound of his voice. The scent of him surrounding me. His beautiful features distracted me from my greatest fear. “Are you okay? I heard a noise out in the hall, but by the time I opened the door, he was already on the ground complaining. What happened?”
“He hit me,” I uttered, my voice raw in shock.
“What?” He pulled away to look me over, and I saw it in his eyes when they landed on the mark on my face. The sting from the slap still sizzled over my marred flesh, and it obviously didn’t look any prettier by the alarmed look on Justin’s face.
“Does it look bad?”
“There’s going to be a bruise,” he confirmed, causing tears to pool in my eyes as he led me over to the couch and sat me down next to him. He brushed my hair back out of my face and caressed my neck. “Are you okay?”
One glance at his worried face and I broke. The tears rushed out of my eyes as I shook my head, and then he gathered me up in his arms and began trailing his hands up and down my back. He held me as I sobbed for the eighteen-year-old girl who killed out of self-defense and for the twenty-four-year-old woman who still carried weapons with her because she was terrified she’d have to do it again. I cried until I was completely out of breath and the streams of tears ran dry.
“You’re safe now,” he whispered, pressing another kiss to my forehead. “You defended yourself, and I am so proud of you.”
A powerful sniffle rocked through my chest as I took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have let him walk me to the door.”
“No, this was not your fault,” he said, running a hand over the back of my head.
“He was mad because I didn’t want to let him inside.” I pulled away from him and settled back against the couch. “He said I was a tease: that I teased men for a free meal.”
“He should’ve respected your decision and left.” He shook his head, gliding his thumb back and forth over my knuckles. “Do you want some ibuprofen? Maybe an ice pack?”
I wanted neither. I wanted to pretend none of this ever happened. After spending the last six years keeping them caged away, the demons ran wild again tonight. “I want to take a shower and go to bed.”
“Okay.” He grabbed my hands and helped me up. Holding my hand, he walked me back to the bathroom and started the shower for me. “If you need—”
“I know,” I said numbly, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I dropped his hand and walked closer to the vanity.
The image transposed back to that night, a girl wearing a ripped shirt stained with blood, face smudged with tears, eyes wide in fear.
“Tessa?”
Shaking my head, the reflection blurred away to the present, and I surveyed the large red mark on my cheek. It’d already started to bruise. Speckles of black and blue filtered in under the red; spots of broken blood vessels had risen to the surface of my skin. Turning my face to the side, it felt hot as I ran my fingers along the tender flesh and assessed the damage. This was nothing compared to what I’d endured in the past.
I noticed Justin standing behind me and focused my attention back to him. I shot him a weak smile through the mirror and ran a hand through my hair. “Nothing a little makeup can’t cover up.”
He moved closer, placing his hands on either side of me. He rested his chin on my shoulder, his voice warm and comforting in my ear as he spoke. “All I see is how strong you are. Don’t think for one second you need to cover that up.”
If he only knew what I saw.
“I’ll let you shower,” he said, backing away from me.
“Thanks.” I waited until he closed the door behind him to undress and step into the shower. When the hot water hit my skin I felt like I could finally breathe again. Too raw to move, I stood beneath the rushing water and closed my eyes. I imagined the water washing away all of my anxiety, taking every bad memory and scar with it as it spiraled down the drain, but I knew that was wishful thinking.
I opened my eyes, ran my fingers through my drenched hair, and trailed my eyes down my body. That’s when I saw it. Red streams, mixing with the water, fell down my legs and settled around the drain before disappearing completely. I stumbled back against the wall, away from the water, but the steam billowing around me felt suffocating. It was impossible to escape the panic trembling through my body.
Breathing hard, I rested my head against the tiles and grabbed my shower gel. I scrubbed my arms and legs hard, determined to wash the memories away, but when I brushed the loofa over my side, I saw the scar. His inch-long tombstone permanently etched into my skin. Something I carried around with me every day. As if the mental scars weren’t enough.
