Blind Devotion

by S. Nelson

  “Don’t deflect, Alina. It’s not becoming.” He scoffed at me before reaching back into his jacket, pulling out a paper. Several pieces of paper to be exact.

  “What is that?” My gut told me I didn’t want to know the answer. My heart picked up the pace and my mouth went dry.

  “This,” he emphasized, “is exactly why I told you to stay away from Colter.” He shoved the papers at me, but before I could open them to see what he was talking about, there was a knock at my front door. Then another and another, until someone was pounding away with such force I thought they’d splinter the wood.

  “Who is that?” my father asked, already walking toward the door to investigate. His fingers circled the handle before I could jump in front of him, and the door was yanked open to reveal Max standing on the stoop, his arm raised for another knock.

  “What are you doing here?” my father snapped. “I thought I made it perfectly clear my daughter is off limits.”

  Max mumbled something, his words becoming jumbled as all my attention was on the piece of paper in front of me. I’d finally glanced down to see what my father had handed me was an arrest sheet and the name at the top was Maxton Colter. Quickly scanning the document, I searched for the reason, and there it was, halfway down the page.

  The words blurred together until I could barely read them. My brain knew what I’d seen, but the realization sent me into a nauseous wave of denial.

  Domestic violence.

  Max

  “THIS IS BETWEEN me and Alina,” I interrupted, the rantings of Randall Winthrop trying to shut me down at every opportunity.

  “Did you really think I’d never find out? That I wouldn’t protect my daughter from the likes of you?” He stepped closer, his need to dominate not only our conversation but me as well. He stood a mere inch shorter than my own six-one frame, and while the man was at least double my age, he appeared to be in good shape. Strong. Although right then, he looked a little worse for wear, no doubt the entire ordeal with Alina driving his stress levels to new heights.

  “What are you talking about?” I tried to move past him get to Alina, but he stepped in front of me. I had no idea if Chris was still in her house, or if he’d left. For that matter, I had no idea why her father had answered the door, glaring at me as if he truly wanted to rip me limb from limb.

  I managed to glance over Randall’s shoulder, and that was when I saw Alina clutching a few pieces of paper. That can’t be what I think it is.

  As I opened my mouth to speak to her, she looked up and locked eyes on me. The surprise and hurt in her gaze were enough to gut me, even though I had no idea why she was so upset. That was a lie. I had an inkling as to why she was upset.

  “What is this?” she finally asked, and I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or her father.

  “Alina, I can explain.” The more time swirled around all of us, the more I knew the pieces of paper in her hand had to be my arrest documents. Somehow her father had gotten a hold of them, even though I was told they were dismissed and wouldn’t be accessible to anyone.

  “How are you going to explain beating your wife?” her father shouted in my face, grabbing me by the lapels of my jacket and pulling me toward him.

  “Ex-wife,” I countered.

  “Doesn’t matter. You made a big mistake when you set your sights on my daughter.” I didn’t even try to remove his hands, so focused on Alina because she was all that mattered.

  “It’s not what you think.” I tried to pour all my sincerity into my words, but nothing seemed to reach her. She seemed lost in her own head, and I couldn’t say I blamed her. The only thing she had to go by was an irate father, who was hurling accusations at me, thinking he knew the truth about the situation, to which there was black and white proof of those accusations clenched tightly in her hands.

  Finally, after what seemed like forever, she spoke, tears falling down her reddened cheeks. She broke my heart.

  “You need to leave, Max.”

  “Alina,” I pleaded. “Please just let me explain.” I tried to once again move past her father, but he wouldn’t budge, and I wasn’t about to compound the situation by getting into a physical altercation with him, no matter how much I was itching to do so.

  She drew in a deep breath, her lower lip trembling more than before. “Did you get arrested for domestic violence against your wife?”

  I released all the tension inside me because I knew the end of our conversation was fast approaching. There was no way I was going to convince her what she was looking at wasn’t the whole truth, not even close.

  “Yes.”

  Alina hung her head in defeat, but it was I who felt as if my world was closing in on me. To have her think less of me, based on half-truths, tore at my insides, and while her father was still present, I knew my hopes of having a discussion were less than nil.

  “Get your ass out of here, Colter. And I don’t ever want to see your face again. Not at work and certainly not around my daughter. Ever,” he spat, shoving me backward.

  “You’re firing me?” Everything was happening so fast. Of course he was going to let me go. He thought I had beaten my ex-wife.

  “You’re damn right I am.” Based on the way the two of them looked, I knew it was in everyone’s best interest if I simply took my leave. I’d have a better shot at getting Alina to hear me out once her father wasn’t around anyway.

  I chanced a glance at Alina one last time, but she was looking at the floor. So I turned on my heel, walked out the door and bounded down the front steps.

  Alcohol.

  I needed lots of alcohol.

  Alina

  “YOU SHOULD’VE LISTENED to me,” my father berated, puffing out his chest with the knowledge he’d found dirt on the one man I’d been falling for, essentially ripping him from my world in one fell swoop. He always thought he knew what was best for me, my entire life never really giving me a say in how I wanted my future to unfold. It just figured this time he’d been right.

  Domestic violence. I still couldn’t believe it, but there it was in black and white, staring me in the face and telling me how foolish I’d been to let my hormones get the best of me. And even though I knew what I felt for Max went beyond lust, I shoved the notion way deep down because no good could come from the realization.

  “I just can’t believe it,” I said out loud, more to myself than my father, but he took the lead in as fuel to ridicule me once more.

  “That’s what you get for letting your loins lead you around.”

  “Loins? Really?” Shaking my head, I proceeded to walk away from him and into the kitchen. I needed a drink, and I believed I still had a bottle of scotch in one of the cabinets. I hardly drank but kept something on hand for those times when nothing less would suffice.

  My father followed closely, taking a seat at the island while I rooted around looking for the ten-year-old bottle. Once located, I poured myself a double and quickly downed it, looking to my father to see what his reaction would be.

  He arched his brow, his telltale sign he was annoyed with me. But I couldn’t care less. This was my home, and I’d do whatever I damned well pleased, and if he didn’t like it, then he knew where he could go. Well, maybe he didn’t, but I’d let him know if he started in on me again.

  I think I’m already starting to be affected by liquid courage. God only knew what would happen after another drink.

  After another moment of dead silence, my father shifted on his stool and cleared his throat. Here we go.

  “Now that you’ve seen Max for who he really is, you can stop messing around and make things right with Chris. I’m sure he’ll take you back, although you’ll probably have to do a small amount of begging.”

  The amber liquid passed my lips once more, allowing me the strength, false bravado or not, to battle with the man who’d controlled my every move thus far.

  “I’m not going back to Chris.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “No, I’m n
ot.” I raised my voice but thought better of it. I was in no shape to start a battle with him, not that night, not after everything that happened.

  My father abruptly stood and rounded the island, coming to stand a few feet from me. At first, I thought he was going to relent on the topic, say something somewhat compassionate and take his leave. But no such thing happened. Although his face had softened some, the lines around his mouth and eyes not as etched.

  “If you do not do as you’re told, I won’t hand over the position of managing partner to you when I retire, which will be sooner rather than later.” The sting of his statement, although not shocking, masked my inquisitiveness at the mention of him leaving the firm sooner than the five years he’d planned on.

  The entire reason I’d gone along with his crazy notion of marrying me off to Chris was so that I could take over when he stepped down, knowing that a bit of sacrifice, aka my personal life, was what was warranted in order to help the countless number of people who needed it. But as time went on, and I’d gotten a taste of what it could be like for me to follow my heart and not my head, I’d started to question everything, making me think of other ways to accomplish what I wanted to do in the very near future.

  Just because Max turned out to not be the man I thought he was, I was still grateful to him for waking me up to the possibility that maybe, just maybe, I didn’t have to settle.

  “I refuse to let you control my life any longer.” I stood tall, my hands finding their way to my hips. I was sure I was quite the sight, all red-eyed with my hair pulled up into a crazy bun and wrapped in an oversized robe. But I didn’t care. It was now or never, and with the liquor flowing freely through my veins, the opportunity was present, I was going to grab on tightly.

  “Alina . . . ,” my father warned, flashing me his signature scowl.

  “Don’t Alina me, Dad. I’m way too old to tremble because you don’t approve. You’ve never approved so I should be used to it . . . this feeling I’ve somehow disappointed you. But it’s you who’s disappointed me.” I licked my lips, and it was as if the action had been done in slow motion. “I’m not marrying Chris. End of. If you decide to hand over the position to someone else, then so be it.”

  “What about all your do-gooder work you’re always going on about?” My father’s cocky question irritated me.

  “I’ll start my own firm.” The words flew from my mouth before I realized what I was saying. The notion was crazy, one I’d briefly thought of before, but I’d always dismissed because I didn’t have the money to start up a new business. I could probably obtain some clients because of my name, but then again, if my father wanted to put the kibosh on anyone coming to seek my legal help, I was sure he’d do it, just to get me back under his thumb. Still, the idea was out in the open now, and I wanted to run with it.

  He laughed. Genuinely laughed, which only served to piss me off. “With what money?” Oh yes, the obvious question. Where would I get the money from? My thoughts trailed off as I looked around me, my attention suddenly leaving my father and focusing on the walls around me, my head lifting toward the ceiling before coming back down to look toward the hallway.

  All of a sudden, my father stopped laughing, a ridiculously sharp expression quickly taking hold. “Don’t you even think about it,” he shouted, pointing his finger in my face.

  “Why? It’s not like I need all this space. It would do me good to downsize a bit, don’t you think?”

  “I will not allow you to sell your mother’s place.”

  “It’s my place. She left it to me. Me,” I yelled, hitting myself in the chest with the palm of my hand. “And I’ll do with it what I want.” What had started off as a surprise reveal turned into so much more. Of course I didn’t want to sell the home my mother had left for me, but it was spacious, with more room than I’d ever need. Besides, I held no sentimental attachment to the place since I hadn’t grown up there. No childhood memories would be lost with the sale of the townhome.

  “I forbid it!” His blood pressure rose to a whole new level, the veins in his temple throbbing from apparent anger. I almost felt bad for upsetting him, but a part of me patted myself on the back for finally standing up to him, for challenging him and reminding him I was a grown woman, someone who he could no longer control.

  I opened my mouth to continue to argue, or goad him, but he abruptly turned and stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the front door behind him and making me wince.

  And then . . . smile.

  Max

  “YOU NEED TO slow down,” Hal urged, reaching for the glass of whiskey in my hand, but I snatched it back before he could take it. “Fine, have it your way, but don’t complain tomorrow when you feel like you’ve been run over by a semi.” He smirked, and if I could’ve moved quickly enough, I would’ve smacked him for reveling in my misery, but my reaction time slowed with each sip of the liquor.

  Leaning back, I rested my head on the top of the leather sofa, the room spinning every time I tried to close my eyes. “I do . . . don’t know how to make her hear me,” I slurred, every syllable a struggle.

  “Well, you can start by putting down the glass.” My brother was younger, but right then, he was taking on my role, the role of protector. I should’ve listened to him. I should’ve put down the drink, but all I wanted to do was drown myself in my anguish. I’d finally found a woman who intrigued me, someone who gave meaning to my day, someone for whom I wished away all other distractions just so I could see her again, and she’d been taken away from me in the blink of an eye. All over a grave misunderstanding.

  “I don’t wanna feel shit right now,” I barked. Slowly picking my head up, it lolled forward before I’d been able to readjust and look at my brother. My vision blurred and I could barely keep my eyes open, but I refused to give in to anything other than the drink. Speaking of which, my glass had slipped from my hand and sloshed all over the hardwood floor below. There wasn’t much of a mess, however, because I’d been skilled at being able to drain the majority of the contents before the spill.

  As I faintly heard Hal grumbling, my body gave out, and I fell to the side, plopping not so gracefully onto the cushions and quickly passing out, not a care in the world as the darkness washed over me.

  An ear-piercing sound jerked me awake and at first, I thought it was the fire alarm going off, only to realize it was merely my cell, the noise exemplified tenfold due to the abuse I’d put my body through the previous night. Just as it finally silenced, I took a deep breath only to be jolted again when my phone started to ring once more.

  I felt around on the floor until my fingertips grazed the device, slowly pulling my arm back until the cell was in front of me, closer to my ear. Without even bothering to check and see who was calling, I swiped the screen.

  “Hello,” I mumbled, trying to pry my tongue from the roof of my mouth, the worst case of cotton mouth I’d ever experienced.

  “Mr. Colter? Are you not coming in today?” My secretary’s voice bombarded my eardrum, my eyes immediately popping open in search of a clock. It was 9:30 a.m., a couple hours after I usually started my work day. I stumbled to my feet only to fall onto the couch, knocking my head against the wall. “Shit!”

  “Are you okay? Is something wrong?” Linda sounded genuinely concerned.

  “I’m fine. I’ll be there in an hour.” After I hung up, I realized I no longer had a job, but I’d be damned if I was going to leave any personal items I had in my office for someone from security to meddle over and throw in a cardboard box.

  As I ascended the steps, Hal strolled out into the hallway dressed in workout gear, ready to go for a run. He smiled when he saw me struggling to climb toward him.

  “Rough night?” He waited for me at the top, grinning widely when he saw the state I was in. “I told you to slow down,” he teased, laughing when I purposely bumped into him with my shoulder.

  “You wait until you have a problem and take to the bottle. You’ll get no sympathy from me.” He said so
mething else, but I didn’t hear him, too focused on putting one foot in front of the other so I didn’t fall flat on my face.

  I think I’m still drunk.

  An hour later and I was feeling a little better, the shower I’d taken earlier doing wonders. How I felt and how I looked were two different things, however. While I was fully alert, with the aid of some strong headache meds and two cups of coffee, I looked disheveled, even though I was impeccably dressed in a dark gray suit and crisp white shirt. I hadn’t bothered to shave for fear my hand would tremble, and I’d end up cutting myself more times than not, so I donned a five o’clock shadow. My hair wasn’t cooperating, a few strands acting wayward, and dark circles shadowed the underneath of my eyes.

  As I approached the building, my breath got caught in my lungs when my eyes landed on the one woman I’d been both hoping and dreading to see. Dreading because I hadn’t prepared a good enough explanation, one that would convince her of the truth without hesitancy. Instead, I’d drowned myself in numbing liquor, throwing out any game plan I should have been contemplating.

  Alina was too wrapped up in conversation with some woman to notice me drawing closer.

  “You need to go to the police and report it, Tanya. He’s not allowed to come near you.” Alina’s hand rested on the woman’s upper arm in concern. I recognized the name, realizing the woman she was talking to was her pro bono client. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but she was not it. Her short black hair was cut into a stylish bob and the clothes she wore shouted class. Tanya was young and attractive, reminding me domestic violence victims didn’t possess a certain type of “look” like many would think.

  “It won’t matter,” she cried, tears escaping and sliding down her cheeks. She appeared genuinely scared. “Look at what he did to you? Do you think he’ll pay attention to some piece of paper?”

  Alina was set to respond when I sidled up next to her, startling both her and her client.