Unworthy

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Unworthy Page 15

by Evans, A. K.


  Within five minutes of our arrival, Trent’s buddies all started showing up. Cruz, Pierce, Lorenzo, and Holden were all there, but there were a few others I hadn’t met yet. Trent introduced me to his boss, Levi Cunningham, as well as another co-worker, Tyson.

  After a round of introductions while everyone shoveled in the donuts, we got to work. We were fortunate that Trent had already taken care of the major things in the house, like the plumbing, heating, air conditioning, insulation, and the roof. Nearly everything left was cosmetic.

  Since Trent had already planned on knocking out the wall in the great room to expose the view to our spot, he had already ordered all of the wood and drywall needed to complete the task. Apparently, Tyson’s first job was in construction, something he’d done for six years, so he was more than capable of seeing to the project of demolishing an entire wall in a house without an issue.

  While a couple of the guys got to work on that, Trent made it clear that the most important rooms in the house were those necessary to us living there comfortably. This meant the kitchen, the master bedroom for us, a second bedroom for Tate, and the bathrooms were a top priority.

  Trent, Tyson, Levi, and Holden worked on demolition of the wall while I worked with Pierce, Cruz, and Lorenzo on tearing apart the kitchen. I was shocked to see that everyone just seemed to know what to do. And it was then I realized that Trent, Tate, and I might be able to move in before my lease was up.

  Everyone worked effectively and efficiently throughout the morning. When there was a knock at the front door hours after we’d started, I learned that Trent had ordered a few pizzas for everyone for lunch.

  So, we all stopped to eat.

  And that’s when everything went from great to awful.

  We were all standing around eating and chatting, everyone lost in their own conversations. Between the hard physical labor I’d been doing all morning and the hot pizza I was now eating, I was feeling a bit overheated. I set my plate down on one of the still-standing countertops and removed my sweatshirt.

  After tossing it aside, I picked up my plate and turned to Trent. “I can’t believe how much work we’ve already accomplished,” I started. “If your friends are willing to continue to help out, this place is going to be finished in no time at all.”

  Trent had a look of concern on his face. In fact, it was then I noticed he wasn’t even looking at me.

  “What happened to your arms?” he asked.

  Something funny was in his tone, something I knew wasn’t good.

  “What?” I responded with a question as I glanced down and looked at my forearms. I set my plate back down and held them out to him. “What’s wrong with my arms?”

  His voice had raised just a touch when he clarified, “Not your forearms.”

  Still confused, I moved my eyes to my biceps. That’s when I saw what he was seeing. Dark, angry bruises covering both of them.

  Keith.

  Keith had squeezed my arms so hard yesterday when I dropped off Tate that he left bruises on my body.

  I swallowed hard and looked up at Trent, unsure of what to say.

  The look on my face must have told him enough. The air in the room went charged, and all the guys could feel it. I knew it because all other conversations suddenly ceased to exist.

  “Um, well,” I stammered, trying to figure out the best way to answer his question.

  “Delaney,” he warned. It was evident he was not interested in my stall tactics.

  I took in a deep breath and admitted, “I didn’t know they were even there.”

  “Okay, but now you do. What I want to know is how they got there?”

  My belly was full of nerves as I answered quietly, “There might have been an altercation with Keith when I dropped Tate off yesterday.”

  Tension and anger filled the room.

  Trent’s jaw clenched. He narrowed his eyes and asked, “He put his hands on you?”

  I nodded. “I was trying to talk to him about Tate’s custody arrangement and—”

  “I don’t give a fuck what you were talking to him about,” Trent cut me off. “That motherfucker put his hands on you?”

  There was no use repeating what I’d already confirmed for him, so I stood there trying to figure out the best way to calm him down. Before I could come up with anything, Trent spoke. And when he did, I knew things were going to get even worse.

  “Why are you getting a divorce, Delaney?”

  I stared at him, remaining silent.

  Trent snapped his head to the side and started walking away as he ordered, “Somebody better follow me and make sure I don’t kill this motherfucker.”

  Oh no.

  No.

  “Trent!” I cried.

  He turned around. Even though my focus was on him, it was hard not to notice his friends moving in behind him.

  “This is all that happened,” I assured him. “What happened yesterday and what happened one other time a week before I officially left him.”

  Something moved over his face and his look grew scary. “You told me you left him when you were three months pregnant. Did he hurt you when you had Tate growing in your belly, baby?”

  I nodded and rasped, “It wasn’t bad. He only backed me up against the wall, pulled my hair, and put his fist through the wall at the side of my head. But it was enough to scare me, especially since I’d never seen him that way. I knew I wasn’t going to risk my baby, so I left him. He never did it again until yesterday. Please, you have to calm down. Don’t do anything that’s going to take you away from me again. It really wasn’t that bad.”

  “Anytime a man puts his hands on a woman like that, sweet cheeks, it’s bad. When a man does that to a pregnant woman, it’s even worse. I don’t care if he pulled your hair and bruised your arms or gave you a black eye and some broken ribs. It’s always all bad.”

  I couldn’t say he was wrong. I knew that was the truth. But I didn’t want him going off the deep end doing something that would jeopardize our future together when we’d only just gotten back together.

  “Name.”

  The single word request came from behind Trent. I looked to see Lorenzo had stepped forward. “Pardon?”

  “Your kid’s father. What’s his last name?”

  “Pearson,” I replied immediately, not understanding why he was asking.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t get an answer to that either. Lorenzo turned on his boot and walked toward the front door.

  “Cruz, follow him,” Levi ordered.

  Cruz gave a nod and took off.

  My eyes were darting back and forth through the kitchen at each of the guys. They finally settled on Trent and I asked, “What’s happening? What’s Lorenzo going to do?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. There isn’t one of us that easily tolerates a woman being abused or assaulted, but especially not Lorenzo. He grew up witnessing his father beating the life out of his mother, so stuff like this affects him differently than it does the rest of us.”

  “He’s not going to get himself into trouble, is he?”

  Trent shook his head slowly and assured me, “The only one who’s in trouble right now is your ex. I don’t understand. How is it possible that this happened yesterday, and you didn’t tell me? Furthermore, how did you walk out of there and leave Tate with him?”

  Suddenly, I felt dizzy. The thought of Keith putting his hands on Tate and hurting him never crossed my mind. Trent noticed I was wavering and wrapped his arm around my back to hold me steady.

  “You have to report him, Delaney. He needs to know he can’t get away with doing it, especially not when he’s got your son in his care.”

  My eyes welled with tears.

  How is this what my life had become? And what was wrong with me for not reporting him the first time something happened?

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  “Okay? You’ll go down to the station now and report it?” Trent asked. There was an edge of surprise in his voice.
/>   “Yeah,” I insisted. “I’m not looking to protect him, Trent. My only concern is Tate.”

  Trent looked around the room at his friends.

  “Go,” Tyson stated. “We’ll get that space in the great room finished up and lock up the place for you if you don’t make it back here.”

  Following a beat of silence, Trent said, “Thanks.”

  At that, he pulled the key for the house off his key ring, left it with men he clearly trusted, and guided me toward the door.

  Once we were back in Trent’s truck, he didn’t immediately start it. I turned my head toward him and saw him looking at me with such softness in his eyes.

  “Trent?” I called.

  He reached his hand out and cupped my cheek. As his thumb stroked over the skin on my cheek, I saw something else wash over him.

  Worry.

  Maybe a little bit of pain, too.

  I pressed my cheek into his hand.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “For what?”

  “For always taking care of me.”

  “You mean the world to me, Delaney,” he started. “I’ll never stop. And no matter what happens with this, you need to know that he’ll never put his hands on you again.”

  He tugged me in his direction, leaned toward me, and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips.

  Then, he started the truck and drove us to the police station.

  I interlaced my fingers with Delaney’s as we walked from my truck to the front door of the Windsor Police Department.

  It had been less than an hour since Delaney took off her sweatshirt and I saw the bruising on her arms. The second I saw the bruises I knew exactly what they were. I could see the outline of his fingers and where he’d pressed entirely too hard on her.

  And in a matter of seconds, I went from happy and excited about the fact we were working together with my buddies to get the house we’d soon share together done to just plain irate. Knowing that Delaney had been in not just one but two situations that scared her and put her safety at risk fueled a raging fire inside me like I’d never felt before.

  So, now as we walked into the police department, I wanted to offer her reassurance. I used the relatively silent drive from the house to the station to calm myself down. Delaney was showing her strength and resilience by doing the best thing she could to protect herself and her son. My job was to be there by her side while she did that. I needed to be certain she knew that she could trust me with whatever was happening in her life and not have to worry that I’d go off half-cocked…no matter how badly I wanted to shove my fist down this guy’s throat.

  We stepped inside and were greeted by the dispatcher. Given how closely the Cunningham Security team worked with the WPD, my face was a familiar one.

  “Hi, Trent,” Janice acknowledged me.

  “Afternoon, Janice. Is Detective Baines around?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Yeah, I believe he just got back from a late lunch break. Let me call him for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  A few minutes later, the door opened, and Detective Baines walked out. “Hey, Michaels. How are you doing? I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to properly thank you a few weeks ago when we finally got our guy on that arson case. You know how the scene was that day.”

  I brushed it off. “It’s not a problem. I’m just happy it’s finally over and the business owners in town can breathe a little easier.”

  He agreed, “That’s the truth. I’m grateful we have you guys on board and willing to help out when it’s needed. Anyway, is there something else going on I can help with?”

  I looked to Delaney and said, “Delaney, this is Detective Jackson Baines. Detective Baines, this is my girlfriend, Delaney.”

  She held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Detective.”

  “The pleasure is mine,” he returned.

  His eyes came back to mine. When they did, I asked, “Do you have somewhere we can talk privately?”

  He dipped his chin and ushered us through the door back to one of the empty interrogation rooms.

  “Can I get you anything to drink? A cup of coffee maybe?” he offered.

  “No, thanks. I’m good,” I replied.

  When he turned to Delaney, she shook her head.

  Detective Baines tossed his hand out to the side and instructed, “Have a seat.”

  Delaney and I sat on one side of the table while he sat on the other.

  “So, what’s going on?”

  “My son’s father, who I’m currently still married to but in the process of getting divorced from, physically assaulted me last night.”

  Apparently, she was all about cutting right to the chase.

  “Pardon?”

  That came from Detective Baines. The tone of his voice and the look on his face indicated he was in disbelief over what he’d just heard.

  Delaney decided that it was best to be more direct. She quickly began moving her arms and pulled them through her sweatshirt. When she slipped it over her head, Detective Baines’ eyes went right to her arms and his jaw hardened.

  He looked in my direction, slightly confused, before turning his attention back to Delaney. “This happened last night?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t know this happened until I saw the bruises on her arms for the first time roughly an hour ago,” I chimed in, understanding where his confusion was coming from.

  Realization dawned. “Okay. Delaney, can you tell me exactly what happened?”

  She went on to do just that. She explained everything that had happened from the moment she left work to pick Tate up from daycare until she was back home making his food. She also added in the issues regarding their custody battle, something that had only recently escalated. When she finished, he asked, “Was this the first time he’s ever assaulted you?”

  “It was the first time he’s done it and left evidence. It happened once before,” she shared.

  “When she was three months pregnant,” I added.

  Detective Baines was struggling to keep his composure. At least, I noticed it. I’m not sure Delaney did. He confirmed, “I assume you’d like to file an official report?”

  “Yes.”

  There was no waver to her voice. She was being strong, and I was incredibly proud of her.

  “Alright. I’m going to have to get some paperwork taken care of, but we’ll need to get an official statement. I’d also like to get some photographs taken of the bruises on your arms.”

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  He stood to leave the room, but before he could walk out Delaney called, “Detective?”

  “Yes?”

  She hesitated briefly before she stated, “I’m worried about my son. It didn’t dawn on me until Trent said something to me about it, but now I can’t help but fear for my son’s safety. There’s never been any evidence to suggest that Keith has ever abused my son or put him in danger, but I’m concerned now. I was with him for a long time and never saw this side of him.”

  “We’re going to do everything we can to make sure that you and your son stay safe,” he assured her. “The first step in making that happen is going to be getting your official statement.”

  Delaney gave him a nod of understanding.

  When Detective Baines returned, he brought in one of his colleagues to help with getting the photos of Delaney’s arms. While that was happening, I asked, “Can I speak with you privately, Detective?”

  “Sure.”

  I looked to my girl and assured, “I’ll just be outside for a minute.”

  “Okay.”

  The moment I was standing outside the room with Detective Baines, I asked, “What are the chances that official charges are going to be filed?”

  He sighed. “I can’t say for sure at this point. Based on what she’s said, it sounds like this guy has no priors. The fact that we’ll have her statement and the photographic evidence is good, but it may not be enough to make this situation go
away for her completely.”

  Unfortunately, that’s what I had suspected he’d say.

  He went on, “There’s a baby involved, though. I want you to know that I’m personally going to go out of my way to talk to the prosecutor on this one. I can’t make the call, but I’ll certainly do what I can to see to it that the right one is made.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  Much like I did when he’d thanked me for the work we did on the arson case, Detective Baines brushed it off. “It’s nothing,” he started. “We appreciate everything you do to help out our department, so when I have the opportunity to return a favor, I’m going to do just that.”

  Silence settled between us. We were simply two guys working on the right side of the law, hoping to make a difference. The way we did it wasn’t always the same, but the desired outcome almost always was.

  With that, I shifted my body and put my hand on the doorknob, intent on getting back to Delaney.

  “Never expected you’d want to get involved with a woman who has a child and is going through what looks like is going to be an ugly divorce,” he declared, halting my movements.

  I kept my body locked in place but turned my head toward him. When my eyes met his, I shared, “I’ve been in love with Delaney since high school. Stuff happened and things ended between us. It was ugly then, but we’re back together now in a way I know it never should have gone the way it did years ago. Now, seeing what she’s going through, I know it even more. And he might not be my kid, but I love her son as if he were my own.”

  A look of admiration and respect came over his face. “I’m going to do everything I can to make sure this case goes in the direction it needs to. I’ll keep you updated as I have any news.”

  “Thanks, Detective.”

  With that, I opened the door and went back to be by my woman’s side while she finished giving her official statement.

  “I ordered the wrong flooring.”

  This came from Delaney. We were in my bed back at the condo after what had been a long, exhausting day.

  By the time we finished up at the police station, it had been a bit since we left the house. Delaney really wanted to go back to the house to continue working for a little while. I was relieved to see that she was pushing forward and doing her best not to let this situation get her down.

 

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