Blake ignored him, faced her alone. “Kasia, I just want to talk. I don’t want to hurt you. Why are you pushing me away so hard?”
She flicked her gaze back and forth between the stranger and Blake. Was it dangerous for her to ask for help again? Blake was only a foot away. Kasia glanced back at the man. He approached in silence, furtive. Watchful.
She wished Coward-Blake would make an appearance. Had he finally snapped? “Don’t come any closer. Stand right there and say whatever you have to say. But nothing will change. We’re done.”
His eyes blackened, and he dove at her, grabbed a fistful of her hair. “You don’t get to say when we’re done!” He twisted his fist into her head, and a screaming pain tore at her scalp.
“That’s enough, sir!” the stranger shouted. “Let go of the young lady and back away.”
“Ow! Blake. Do what he’s asking.” She pulled in a deep breath and stomped the heel of her boot on his toes.
“Augh!” Blake wrenched her hair, seething. “I will do what I want.”
“Take your hands off the lady.” The man was now a single step behind Blake.
Without a word, Blake yanked Kasia backward and shoved her to the side. Her knee slammed into the pavement, and she felt the impact in her teeth. The heel of her hand burned. She needed to get out of there. A parked car was only a few feet away. She crawled behind it and watched.
Blake spun and shoved the stranger back.
The man stumbled for a millisecond but regained his balance quickly. “You do not want to do that, young man.”
“You shouldn’t have gotten out of your car.” Blake swung, but the man reacted in a blur of motion. Before Kasia could make sense of it, Blake was flat on his face, one arm pinned behind his back.
“I’m Deputy Brad Osbourne.” He flipped his badge open and showed both of them.
Kasia sat up, stared dumbly at the scene playing out before her.
The man read Blake his Miranda rights and pulled out a pair of cuffs. “You’re under arrest for assault.”
“There was a warrant for his arrest out already—for vandalizing my car.”
“I’m the one pressing charges!” Blake cried out. “Did you see my face? I was only defending myself. She’s crazy!”
“You just assaulted an officer of the law, and I watched you attack her, so shut it.” The officer leveled his eyes at Kasia. “I’ll need you to stay around for a statement.”
She nodded. She was a pro at giving statements by now.
Mrs. Anderson hustled down the sidewalk from 10B. “Kasia? David? What happened? Brad, what’s going on?”
“This young lady’s lucky I forgot my coffee.” Officer Osbourne explained what he’d seen, but Kasia tuned it all out.
The officer was Brad… “Who’s David?”
“That young man. Your friend from school.” She pointed at Blake as if it were obvious.
Kasia shook her head and stood up cautiously. Enough. “This is Blake Hamilton. I have a temporary restraining order against him. He’s not supposed to be anywhere near me, and he knows it.”
“You have a protective order, and you didn’t tell me, Kasia?” Mrs. Anderson’s hands landed on her hips. “How are people s’posed to help you, if you don’t let ’em?”
The plain-clothed officer stood Blake up and put him in the back of the car. “It wouldn’t have done you any good. He gave you false information.”
“Lied to me to get in my clubhouse, is what you’re sayin’.”
Blake whined. “I didn’t know if you knew about the stupid restraining order!”
Keep talking, idiot. Kasia brushed herself off. “I’ll be inside. I’ll make a statement whenever you’re ready, Officer.” She flipped her phone open and called A.J.
Somebody needed to come help Kyle with the kids.
~*~
Kasia answered the officer’s questions but kept an eye on the kids the whole time. The room bustled with rambunctious middle-schoolers, and Kyle quickly gave A.J. and Jayce directions. Of course, all the boys vied for A.J.’s attention.
“Mr. Hamilton could press charges against you for throwing the stapler,” he stated.
Kasia turned back to him. “I know.”
“I don’t think they’d stick, but you should be aware.”
“Thanks, um…for everything. I’m glad you showed up when you did.”
“I guess the Big Guy upstairs had an eye out for you.”
The Big Guy, indeed. She smiled.
Kasia made it back into the meeting room just before the middle-schoolers wrapped up. The kids bounced out the door, already making plans. In the brief interlude when the clubhouse was empty, Jayce gave her a hug that poured strength into her.
“You good, Kosh?”
“Well enough to focus on the kids, and that’s all I can ask right now.”
She stepped back and noticed for the first time that he was semi-dressed-up. Nice khakis and a button-down with the sleeves rolled up. His tat showed. “Did you raid Zan’s closet?”
“Ha, ha. You’re so funny. You forget, as a music major, I gotta perform sometimes. Every once in a while, a venue may not approve of my tees and chains.”
A.J. and Kyle finished the snacks and came over to join them.
Kasia smiled at Kyle. “Way to run the show. You were awesome today.”
He shrugged. “Glad you’re back for the small ones. They can get a little moist for me.”
“That’s gross,” A.J. said.
“They’ll be here in five minutes,” Kasia reminded them. “Let’s get in the right frame of mind. A.J., Jayce, this group is super sweet, but really distractible.”
“So I gotta use my charm, is what you’re telling me.”
The group stampeded through the door, left it standing somehow, and found their seats. Everyone was busy from the start, each with their own table full.
Ki-ki bustled in a few minutes late, winded, and ran up to hug Kasia.
“Hey, little lady.”
“I did good on my quiz, Kasia.”
“I had no doubt you would. Show me.” Kasia squatted beside Ki-ki’s chair, when she felt eyes on her again. Kind eyes though. She scanned the room and caught Jayce’s crooked smile. He gave her a Southie nod and turned to the next table.
“Good afternoon, ladies. I have a granola bar for each of you. How else may I be of service?” Two girls snickered. Mallory actually blushed and hid her little face.
All around, there were smiles and bright conversations. During break time, Jayce and Kasia both noticed a little black-haired boy giving A.J. eyes. Jayce smirked at Kasia, until the kid actually walked over, leaned in, and put his arm on the back of A.J.’s chair.
“Hey,” he said with confidence. “My name’s Taylor, but you can call me T-Dawg.”
“How old are you, T-Dawg?” A.J. asked. “Nine?”
“Ten. I haven’t seen you around here before.”
“That’s probably because I’m usually very busy studying and hanging out with this guy—at college.” She pointed to Jayce, who stepped up and offered his hand to Taylor. “Excuse me for a second.” A.J. scooted over to the table of girls.
Jayce sat for a little man-to-man. “You must have a pretty smooth-talking older brother, T-Dawg.” The boy’s chest puffed out. “Lemme give ya a little hint about the older ladies—’specially this one.”
When Jayce stood up a minute later, the little man and the big man eyed each other with respect and bumped fists. Taylor asked Kasia if he could put a sticker on the chart as he left.
“Sure thing.”
He walked away, dignity intact. Nice, Jayce.
They cleaned up after the kids cleared out, and Kyle pulled Kasia aside.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
She shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. You were here on time. He skulked in early. And I appreciate you letting me have the time with the officer.”
“Do you want to grab somethin’ to eat, maybe? Chill a little
while?”
She had to give him points for persistence. “Sorry. I just want to get back to school.”
Jayce walked up. “Maybe we can all hang tonight after small group, yeah? A big group’s more Kasia’s speed.”
Kyle nodded. “That’d be cool.”
“We brought my car, Kasia,” A.J. said, “so you can ride back with us.”
Kasia picked up her belongings and followed them out.
The ride back was quiet. A.J. turned on the radio, and Jayce texted somebody.
When they drove onto the campus fifteen minutes later, Zan hopped down off his hood and watched them park.
40
What Zan wanted to do was hold her, make sure she was all right.
But he didn’t know what she would need after her run-in with that creep. Zan didn’t even know exactly what had gone down.
And what mattered was how she was doing.
So he leaned back against the grille and crossed his arms. Waited.
She wore the same blue sweater and black pants she’d been in when he dropped her off at noon—no surprise there—but the pants were ripped at the knee, a small piece of material flapping. Her wrist was wrapped in gauze, and her left boot was scuffed up. Left knee, left wrist, left boot. That piece of trash had shoved her on the ground.
God, I can’t do this. I can’t see how she’s been hurt and not want to go rip Hamilton apart. I need a real shift in focus here.
She’s here, Blake’s in jail, and a heart full of rage accomplishes nothing.
She shouldered her backpack and ambled toward him. He stepped up and met her, took the bag. Then he reached for her left hand and inspected it.
“I’m fine,” she said.
Zan nodded to Jayce, who waved and pointed toward the music building. He’d been working on a song for A.J. Must’ve finished it.
Zan traced Kasia’s thumb with his fingertip, searched her eyes. “Quite a day.”
“It was definitely something,” she said. “I don’t know what to say about it.”
“Jayce only told me Blake was waiting for you, and he chased you outside. I didn’t know he hurt you.”
Her mouth tipped up. “Not as bad as I hurt him. I threw a stapler at his face. I’m pretty sure that’s the only reason I made it out the door—other than divine intervention.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean—even when none of you guys were around—God had my back. Seriously. As Blake came after me, an unmarked car pulled in right behind him. The officer had left his coffee at home.”
Humbled and thankful, Zan tugged at a fraying thread of gauze and traced a line in her wrist. She shivered.
“Hey, you know what?” She took his hand and led him toward his passenger door.
“What?”
“I’m famished. Why don’t we go to Pete’s for a greasy burger?”
He unlocked the door and opened it. That was easy. He would’ve followed her anywhere.
His regular corner booth was empty, and he slid in across from her.
The waitress immediately brought two mugs and two waters over. She looked at Kasia. “I know he’s havin’ coffee. You too, doll?”
“Please. And I know what I want. A bacon cheeseburger with home fries, and a side of honey mustard.”
The waitress nodded, filled their coffee.
“I’ll have the same. No honey mustard.”
Kasia reached for the bowl of creamer and emptied four of the tiny cups into her mug. She noticed his perusal. “What? I’m a fan of lattes.”
Real conversation didn’t come easily though. Kasia’s smile was in place, but she spent most of the next ten minutes sipping at her coffee and rearranging her silverware.
“If you need to talk about anything…” he tried.
“Thanks, but I’d rather have some distraction.” She used the condensation from her ice water to draw a picture on the tabletop and said nothing more.
God? A little help?
~*~
Kasia was hungry, but a knot formed in the pit of her stomach that had nothing to do with food. It wasn’t nerves; it was…a ball of pure tension. She felt like a nocked arrow, unsure of her target.
Once food was on the table, she ate it, grateful for the warmth, but she hardly tasted it. And it did nothing for the stress.
“Jayce said you’re a natural with the kids. Tell me about some of ’em.”
Kasia recapped T-Dawg’s attempt to woo A.J.
He laughed. “I’ll ask Jayce what he said later.”
“Perfect. Then there are two precious little girls, Mallory and Maria. They have a huge crush on Kyle…and it didn’t take Jayce long to win them over either. I’m really just getting to know everyone though. Except Ki-ki. She’s my favorite.”
He pointed a home fry at her. “You’re not supposed to have favorites.”
“You’re probably right, but she’s Shea’s. We’ve got a history.” She rehashed all Shea had been through when her husband got locked up for possession.
The knot in her gut grew. Tension. “Can we leave? I don’t feel like sitting still.”
“Sure.” He slid out of the booth, laid some bills on the table, and they left.
As soon as they got outside, Kasia had to speak. Thinking about all Shea had been through stoked the frustration inside her. “Shea spread herself so thin—studied online, worked crazy hours to provide for the girls. And he got out, waltzed back into her life, and expected her to give him everything. It’s not right.”
Zan stood next to his vehicle. “No, it’s not.”
Kasia kicked his tire. Hard. She felt it through her spine, and the sensation threw fuel on her spark of irritation. “Where does he get off?” A few patrons rubbernecked as they passed. Kasia wanted to ask them what their problem was. So she was making a scene. Big deal. “Who does that? You know? He felt entitled to do whatever he wanted, whenever, however. Never once stopped to consider how it might affect her. She walked with her head held high until he robbed her, sucked her bone-dry. I mean—Just. Leave. Me. Alone.”
Zan’s face was etched with concern, and Kasia knew why.
She wasn’t talking about Shea anymore.
The knot in her stomach balled into a fist, punched her from the inside out. And she finally figured out what it was made of. Pure wrath. She clenched her fists until her knuckles were white, and her shoulders were so tight she shuddered.
“I loathe him,” she hissed. Anger locked her jaw. “I want to hurt him. I want to take back everything he took from me. I want to—”
Blake’s black coupe drove into the lot, made a U-turn, and signaled right.
Everything else faded to black. This was her chance.
Kasia hurled herself at the car, barely missed as his tires spun out of the lot.
Undeterred, she sprinted after him, out of Pete’s lot and down the road toward campus. All she heard was the sound of her breath, harsh, strained. When she caught him, she’d damage anything she could.
His taillights shrank in the distance, and she pushed herself harder. Her lungs burned as she sucked in the night air, desperate to catch him. And then her feet were off the ground, someone’s arms locked around her waist.
“Get off me! You can’t stop me!”
The mass of strength behind her carried her, fighting and kicking, several yards off the side of the road into a stand of trees and set her back on the ground. She stood there, crouched in defense, ready to launch herself at anyone who tried to stop her.
And then he walked around and stood in front of her, his face barely lit in the moonlight.
Zan.
“What are you doing?” she screamed.
“Kasia.”
“I want to hurt him! I hate everything he did to me! How he made me—what he took from me!”
“I know.” His voice was soft.
“No, you don’t,” she accused. “You stopped me. You had no right!”
“You can’t just chase him down and attack h
im.”
“Don’t you dare tell me what I can’t do!” She spun away from him, out of words, fury pumping hard in her chest.
She didn’t have to listen to this.
41
“Kasia?” Zan spoke quietly, as gently as possible.
She was like an injured animal, baring her teeth at anyone who came close enough to help. “Will you listen for a minute?”
She stared at him, so he took that as a yes. “Blake was arrested today. He probably wasn’t even in that car. Could’ve been a family member picking it up or something. The huge thing, though, is that you’ve just been granted a protective order. If you went after him…”
“Then what do I do?” she yelled. “I want to hit something! I want to kick him. I want to make him writhe in pain. What do I do with that?”
Zan’s heart broke for her. “You can hit me, Kasia.”
“What?”
“Hit. Me.” He was dead serious. If she needed to get it out, he would be her punching bag.
Her face contorted into a mask of utter disbelief. She must think he was insane.
“Let it out,” he said. “You’re right to be angry. What he did was wrong, and this has been a long time coming.” Too long.
“You can’t fix me, Zan. You want me to be all whole and happy like your sister, but I’m not—”
“No, I just want you to—”
“Shut up!” She shoved him, slammed into his shoulder with the brunt of her anger. He staggered backward and then spread his feet, steeled himself. Her eyes said there was more to come. And boy, did she let him have it.
He wanted to cheer for her. Wanted to cry.
Her small fists struck his chest and his stomach, over and over. She never came near his face—wouldn’t look at him, in fact. Did she imagine Blake’s face as she pounded him with every ounce of strength she had?
She roared. “You showed up in my life and acted like you cared. Said you were drawn to me. Pretended I was special. ‘Different,’ you said.”
Zan stood there and took it. He didn’t know what hurt more—the sharp jabs of her fists or the pain on her face.
She spat the words out like they were poison. “And you stole everything from me that mattered. You used me. Manipulated me. Just because I chose to be with you didn’t mean I owed you! You think you have some right to me. Get over yourself, Blake! I. Wish. You. Were. Dead.”
Strains of Silence Page 29
