Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Okay,” I agreed, even if the slamming in my skull said that the over-the-counter stuff wasn’t going to cut it. But it was better than nothing.
He got me the pills and some water.
“Okay, come on, stand up. Let me see your side,” he demanded, and I watched as his jaw went hard as he saw the fingerprint bruises on my arms and thighs. But he said nothing as he lifted my skirt all the way up to my bra. “Tell me how much this hurts,” he said as his fingers started pressing in.
“Should I go to the hospital?”
“I think you’re okay. Some bruising, but I don’t think anything is broken. But you need to tell me if you start having any issues breathing, because that would mean that something might be fractured.”
“Okay,” I agreed, exhaling shakily.
“Baby, what happened?”
“I was stupid,” I said, hanging my head. “I… I got a call from my old super about my security deposit. But… it was a set-up.”
“Honey,” Seth said, eyes sad. “Why didn’t you have me come with you?”
“I… I wasn’t thinking. I just thought I would grab the check, then come see you at work, and get a little practice in, but… I wasn’t thinking.”
“Alright, hey, it’s not your fault,” he said, hand gently landing on one of my cheeks. “The only person to blame here is that fuckhead who put his hands on you.”
“And Carl…”
“Who’s Carl?”
“My old super,” I said. “Who took a bribe to call me, then get out of the office while I came.”
“Oh, yeah?” Seth asked, tone deadly, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “How much was this worth to him?” he asked, waving at me.
“A thousand dollars,” I said, the words tasting bitter in my mouth now that I had a chance to really think it over.
“Baby, how’d you get away?” he asked. “Did you scream?”
“There was no one around in that area to hear me if I did. I was trying to get my gun, but then the door flew open, and my elderly old neighbor was there with a shotgun, threatening to shoot his cock off.”
“No shit?” Seth asked, brows raised.
“No shit. I hope she’s okay.”
“I’ll send someone over to check,” he assured me, reaching for his phone, and shooting off a text as I slowly got to my feet, wincing at the ache in my side now that time had really let the pain settle in.
It was nothing compared to the slamming in my head, though, and as I moved in front of the mirror, I understood why.
My face was a smattering of bruises that I knew would only set in to deeper colors as the hours stretched on.
And my lip was about twice the size it should have been, with teeth-sized bruises starting to set in there as well.
“Oh, God. What am I going to tell the kids?” I asked, looking at myself.
Seth moved in behind me, grabbing the counter at either side of my body, trapping me in, as his chin went down on my shoulder.
“What do you want to tell them?” he asked. “The truth? That Simon found you, but that he is never going to get near you guys again?” he asked. And his words were a solemn vow.
Because Seth wasn’t going to let him get away with this.
Maybe I should have been having some crisis of conscience right then. Perhaps I should have been telling him no, that he couldn’t kill Simon, that we should go to the police, or something like that.
Even though I knew deep down in my heart that men like Simon didn’t get punished for what they did. He was too wealthy and, therefore, too powerful.
That said, I couldn’t muster a single bit of moral outrage at the idea of that man who’d done this to me, the man who wanted to steal my son from me, was going to die.
Hadn’t I been ready to shoot to kill myself?
Sure, that was in the heat of the moment.
But wasn’t this its own sort of self-defense? To make sure this man never came near me or my kids again?
I think there was always a gray area in everyone’s moral code.
Looking at a situation from afar, you might be able to say something like Oh, the police should have been called and the law should have handled this. But if it was you, and your kids, and your safety… well, it was different.
Simon had to die.
And I wasn’t going to feel bad about it.
Not for a single second.
I looked back at myself, trying to see myself through the eyes of my children. Hazel would be able to move past it, brush it off. She had less time with Simon. And I’d protected her as well as I could. So had Isaac.
But Isaac?
If Isaac saw this, if he knew that his father had reached us again, all those guards that had started to fall were only going to come back. He’d just started to relax, to be a kid again. I couldn’t take that away from him.