“Show me you understand!” He yelled.
I nodded to buy myself a few precious seconds, black spots sparkling at the edge of my vision. I gripped the handle of the cast iron and drew it up in one fast motion with a last burst of strength. A thunk sound snapped as it connected with the side of his head, and Rick instantly released me, dropping to his knees as he cradled his head.
“Stupid bitch!” He screamed.
“Teagan!” Roman yelled from my doorway, nothing but undiluted rage on his face as he all but sprinted toward Rick.
“Don’t!” I darted into his path, my voice breathless as I sucked in lungfuls of air. “Don’t touch him.”
Sirens blared from the door Roman had left open, and I sagged against his chest as his arms encircled me.
“Teagan,” he said, his fingers trembling as he took in my face. “Oh my god.” His voice was ice as he saw my bloody cheek and the no-doubt red rings around my throat.
I shook my head, trying like hell to stay grounded as I looked down at Rick. “Cops are on their way,” I said. “They’ll deal with you.”
“Good!” Rick said, hauling to his feet. He pointed at me. “They can take care of you, you crazy bitch! You tried to kill me with a frying pan!” He shook his head. “All I tried to do was return your things!”
“Oh yeah?” I snapped and reached for the iPad on my countertop. I turned it toward him, revealing the live feed I’d clicked open when he’d entered my home uninvited. “I knew the second you stepped onto my property,” I said. “I have cameras all over this place, but this here?” I pointed to my Instagram feed. “One-hundred thousand people just saw who you really are, Rick Baker. A fucking monster.”
Rick’s skin turned a sickly shade, his fists curling again.
Roman stepped in front of me, tilting his head in a challenge.
“Everyone,” a masculine voice hollered from the doorway. “Hands up!”
Two police officers entered, and Roman and I instantly put our hands up. Rick was slow to follow, shouting accusations of being attacked.
One cop checked out my cheek, then eyed my neck. “He do that to you?”
I nodded, the floor feeling like it was on a tilt beneath my feet.
“I hit him with the pan,” I admitted. “I couldn’t breathe.” I rubbed at the raw spots on my neck.
The police officer nodded, and the one near Rick cuffed him and recited him his rights. He hauled him out the door, Rick yelling about calling his lawyer the whole way out.
I sagged against Roman, my head spinning.
“We need to get you to the hospital,” he said, his arms holding most of my weight.
“We can take her statement there,” the remaining officer said.
Roman nodded, telling the officer which hospital we’d be at.
The last thing I remembered was him securing me in the passenger seat of his car, then everything swirled to black.
21
Roman
“I swear to God if you don’t let me back there—” My voice rose with each word, drawing the attention of everyone in the emergency department’s waiting room.
“Sir, I’m going to need you to calm down,” the nurse responded patiently, giving me a glare that might have gotten through my head if it wasn’t Teagan back there.
Teagan. Teagan, whom I’d brought in unconscious. With a police escort. And bruises around her throat. And a very likeable Rick Baker shouting that I’d been the one to assault her after she’d passed out in my front seat. That she’d been scared of me, which was why she’d said it was him.
I’d been put in handcuffs the minute Teagan had disappeared behind those swinging doors. The cops had apologized at least a dozen times after watching Teagan’s video and letting me go, but I hadn’t been allowed back there while she was giving her statement.
“This is as calm as I’m going to get!” My blood pressure was through the roof, and my hands were itching to hit something—anything. I was ready to claw my way out of my own skin if it got me to her. “How many times do I have to tell you that I didn’t exactly grab my wallet when she called in the middle of an assault?”
He’d put his hands on her. Hit her. Split open her skin. Bruised her. Strangled her. And there was fucking nothing I could do about it. The police had him now.
Another nurse leaned over the shoulder of the one who was denying me access to the love of my life and her eyes widened.
“Sir,” the uniformed officer next to me winced when I turned that glare on him. “It’s really just a procedure. Only next of kin—”
“You’re Roman Padilla!” The nurse gasped. “Charlene, that’s Roman Padilla!” Her gaze flew between the computer and my face. “See? He’s listed as next of kin right there.”
“Right, but he doesn’t have ID. I’ve been round and round with him about this.”
“Oh my God, Charlene, just put his name into Google. He’s the running back for the Raptors,” she hissed.
“I’ll vouch for him,” a deep voice sounded to my right. Weston Rutherford, the owner of the Raptors, pushed his sleeves up and leaned against the chest-height counter.
“And you are?” Charlene asked, exasperated.
“Weston Rutherford,” the cop breathed, clearly awestruck. “He’s the team’s owner. Holy shit, no one is ever going to believe this.”
Weston reached for his wallet and pulled out a driver’s license. “See?”
“Right but that doesn’t mean—”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” the other nurse muttered, leaning over Charlene and typing on the keys. “See?” She gestured toward the screen.
Charlene glanced from the screen to my face and back again.
“Here.” Brynn, Weston’s secretary, pushed forward, and he moved without complaint, letting the petite, strawberry blonde through. She shoved a piece of paper at the nurse. “That’s a copy of his passport.”
My eyebrows hit the ceiling.
“You’re lucky I had the team’s file in the car with me,” Brynn answered my unspoken question. “Nothing like moving offices the day you’re out of the playoffs.” She winced. “Sorry.”
I could have kissed her.
“You’re lucky Brynn’s a type A over-organized freak of nature,” Weston countered with a little shake of his head. “And lucky I have contacts at the precinct.”
We’d get to that later.
“Is that good enough?” I questioned through gritted teeth.
“Take him on back,” Charlene said with a smile like she hadn’t been blocking my path for the last half hour.
“We’ll be out here,” Weston assured me. “And you can tell Teagan that I saw the video. I hope they charge him, but if nothing else, Baker’s off my team. I don’t allow abusive mother fuckers on my field.” He looked me dead in the eye, and I knew he meant it.
“Thank you.” I nodded and took off through the swinging door.
“Type-A over-organized freak of nature?” I heard Brynn hiss at Weston as the door shut behind me. I’d never seen an employee so devoted to a boss the way she was…or put her boss in his place the way she always managed to do.
“The police just finished taking her statement,” the nurse told me as two uniformed officers walked past.
“Thank you…Grace,” I finished after reading her name tag.
“No problem. And don’t panic. Her vocal cords have swollen, so her voice probably sounds a little off, and her eyes are bloodshot. Just be prepared.” She gave my arm an encouraging pat and opened the door to an exam room.
I steadied myself, preparing for whatever I might see, and walked in.
Teagan was sitting up, clothed in a hospital gown, wincing as she sipped water through a straw.
I closed the door behind me with sure, slow motions, controlling every muscle in my body with the utmost care.
“Roman,” she croaked, then cleared her throat and tried again. “Hi.” That was better but still hoarse.
“Are you okay?” I as
ked gently, standing at the foot of her bed.
She nodded. “I’m fine. A little bruised—” she motioned toward her throat, “—but fine.”
I let my gaze slide past her red eyes and pale lips, to the ring of bruises she wore around her throat. Wrath flooded my veins, demanding I beat the ever-loving shit out of Rick Baker, then let him heal just to do it again.
“Say something,” she urged, putting her glass on the bedside table.
I sucked in breath after breath, trying to calm down. She’d just been assaulted, for fuck’s sake, the last thing she needed was my temper, and here it was, bubbling over.
“Say anything?” she offered with a timid little smile.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” I cried, gripping the textured frame of her bed.
“Come here.” She held out her arms.
My eyes bulged. I wasn’t getting near her, not when I felt like I might erupt at any second.
“Roman Padilla, get over here,” she snapped.
“You don’t want me that close to you, not when I’m this…” Shit, I didn’t even have a word for it. I was beyond anger. I was enraged and worried, and fucking terrified. I had all the adrenaline with nowhere to send it.
“You won’t hurt me. Come on.” She patted the bed.
She was right. It didn’t matter how pissed or wound up I’d got; I’d never put my hands on her. I gave in with a deep sigh and sat on the edge of her bed, our hips brushing through the blankets.
“Do you have any idea how fucking scared I was when I heard his voice?” I asked slowly.
“I can imagine.” She pressed her lips in a tight line.
“I can’t,” I countered. “I can’t begin to imagine how scared you had to have been. Jesus, T. What the hell were you thinking? He could have killed you! And we might not be together, but I refuse to even think about a world without you in it.” My hands fisted in the covers.
She leaned forward and kissed me softly, both stealing my breath and bringing my world back to its center—restoring my gravity. “I love you. I’m so sorry.”
I cupped her face gently, barely touching her skin and kissed her back, needing that contact more than air. She was here. She was safe. She’d survived.
“Can you please put me out of my misery and explain what happened?” I begged, bracing my hand on the other side of her hip and drawing back.
“I had a security system installed at my place,” she started, launching into the measures she’d taken to keep herself safe. I nodded as she filled me in on the tech aspects. The cameras that covered every entrance, the alarmed doors, the feature that allowed to share security footage with other system users.
The feature she’d managed to upload for live viewing on her social media.
She told me about the threats, and how she’d ignored them at first, only to be shaken to her core when I’d taken that hit before New Years.
“I knew then that he’d do it. He’d do whatever it took to hurt you to get to me, and I just couldn’t let him,” she whispered.
My heart broke all over. “You could have told me.”
“No one would have believed me without proof. Not with Rick being who he is. You know that. I needed proof.” She reached for my hand, stroking me with her thumb. “Can you honestly tell me that you would have let me get it? You would have let me bait and hook him the way I did?”
“Fuck no!” I yanked my hands from hers, raking them over my hair in frustration. “Damn, Teagan. We would have moved to a different country before I let you put yourself in danger like that.”
“You’re on contract,” she scoffed.
“Fuck the NFL. I don’t need it to breathe—I need you.” My hands fell to my sides.
“I wanted to protect you.”
“It almost got you killed! What if I hadn’t answered the phone?” Just thinking about that moment sent a chill down my spine. I’d grabbed a hold of the house phone—an ancient relic that it was—and dialed 911, sending them straight to Teagan’s without hanging up my cell. Then I’d made a fifteen-minute drive in just under six minutes.
“I knew you would.” She smiled. “You always answer. You always show up. You’ve never let me down.” She reached for my hand again, and I let her take it.
“All over a necklace?” I marveled. I could have gone over to his house at any time and gotten it back for her. I would have moved heaven and earth for her.
“Not just a necklace, the necklace. You know what it means to me.”
“I haven’t seen you wear that thing in a decade.” I laughed softly. This whole situation was completely, totally insane.
“I slept with it under my pillow every night until I moved in with Rick, and you can guess what he would have done to it if he’d discovered it. It was the only thing I cared about enough to get back, and the perfect excuse to show the world what a monster he is. Forgive me?” Her breath hitched.
“You don’t owe me anything.” She didn’t. She’d fought her way out of a situation I hadn’t even realized she’d been in. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“Roman, you know it was all just a lie to get Rick to back away? Right? I love you. I want to be with you. I couldn’t care less if we adopt or decide not to have kids. You are my family, and you’ll always be enough for me.” A tear streaked down her cheek.
I gently brushed it away and laced the fingers of my other hand with hers.
“You still want me?” I clarified, needing to hear it again.
“I’ll always want you,” she promised, another tear escaping. “Walking away nearly killed me, and the only reason I got through it was because I knew it wouldn’t be permanent. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”
I cupped her cheek gently. “You’re the one in the hospital, apologizing for hurting me?”
“Well…yeah.”
Slowly, I brought my lips to hers and kissed her with all the love in my soul. “I love you. Am I happy that you put yourself in danger? Hell no. You’d kick my ass if I did something like this.”
“True,” she admitted, scrunching her nose.
“But you took control of your life and got him the hell out of it, and I can’t be pissed about that. I’m so damned proud of you.”
She started crying in earnest, and I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her against my chest. “I was so scared.” The words were muffled against my shirt.
“I bet you were. Gotta say, that was a damned good hit with the frying pan. Remind me not to ever buy cast iron for our kitchen.” I tucked her under my chin and smiled despite the myriad of emotions beating their way through me, all demanding to be felt first.
She pulled back and looked up at me with watery eyes. “Does that still mean you want me?”
My smile widened. “Baby, you could hit me upside the head with a frying pan, and I’d still want you. I’ll want you until the day I die, and then I’ll sit on the other side, still wanting you.” Eventually, I’d get over the need to scream my throat raw at her for what she’d put herself through, but loving her was way more important than scolding her for a choice that was never mine to make.
“So I can have my ring back?” She sniffled.
I tugged on the chain around my neck, and the ring popped free of my collar. “It’s right here. I might have given up hope—you’re pretty damned convincing, but I was never going to stop fighting to win you back.”
“You never lost me,” she swore as I took it off the chain.
“Promise me you’ll never keep something like that from me again, no matter if you think you’re protecting me or not,” I said, pausing with the ring at the tip of her finger. “I can’t live through that again, Teagan.” The bruises on her throat would fade, but the memories of what I’d heard through the phone as I raced toward her apartment, what I’d seen on that streamed video…those would haunt me for the rest of my life.
“I promise,” she vowed, nodding her head.
“Promise me we’ll never walk out on each other. That n
o matter what, we’ll talk it out and work it out.” I lifted my eyebrows at her.
“I promise.” Another enthusiastic nod.
“Promise me that when push comes to shove, we’ll protect each other together. Don’t ever forget that I’m yours to protect, but you’re mine, too.” My voice broke at the thought of what could have happened.
At how close we’d come to losing it all.
“We’ll do it together,” she swore.
I sucked in a breath, my heart skipping with the knowledge that this was real. There was no broken heart. No lonely nights. There was just us. “Anything you’d like me to promise?”
She drew her tongue across her lower lip and narrowed her eyes in thought.
I prepared myself for the worst.
“Promise me you’ll never stop doing that thing with your tongue—” she started.
I kissed her hard, careful to mind her injuries.
“Every part of me belongs to you,” I promised and slipped the ring back on her finger where it belonged.
Where it would always stay.
Epilogue
Six Months Later
Teagan
“I used to make Roman play this game when we were younger,” I said as my hands trembled around the piece of paper I held.
I looked out on the crowd of people—family and friends dressed in their finest—sitting atop white chairs that were gathered in perfect rows in the gardens. The warm summer sky was clear above us, and the sun kissed my bare back as I stood at the altar across from Roman.
“House,” I continued with my vows. “But I’d always make him marry me first.” I laughed a teary laugh, and Roman smiled down at me, the memory showing in his eyes.
“I never had to beg that hard, though,” I said, grinning up at him. “And I wonder if it’s because even then, all those years ago, our hearts knew. Our souls knew. That we’d end up right here, just as we were supposed to be.”
Roman visibly swallowed, water lining his eyes.
“You’ve always been my heart, Roman Padilla,” I said, folding the paper and focusing entirely on him. “And I promise to take care of you, through ups and downs, fumbles and TDs.” The crowd laughed again, and Roman begrudgingly rolled his eyes as he shook his head. “I promise to love you unconditionally and wholly. No matter what.”
Roman (Raleigh Raptors Book 2) Page 21
