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I’d hoped the fact that we’re married now might have changed things between us. That it might make him look at me differently. But now I realize everything is going to stay the same, and it makes me sad.
*
The next day, Leia sleeps in until seven, which is unusual for her, and by the time I’m up and dressed, James has gone to work. I have a quiet morning—I chat to Ginny while she cleans the kitchen, then when she goes off to vacuum the house, I take Leia for a walk around the gardens. At ten I picture Dad arriving at Kia Kaha and wonder how he’s getting on, and I’m pleased when James texts me around eleven to say the guys loved him, and they’ve given him the job, starting tomorrow. Henry has taken him off to show him around the place and introduce him to some of the staff, and he says that Dad loves the building and thinks Henry’s great.
What are you doing for lunch? he says at the end. We’re ordering a working lunch, but Missie and Gaby are coming in, and you can join us if you like?
Delighted, I reply, I’d love to! That cheers me up no end. I make sure that Leia has a nap and feed, then head out in the Range Rover, arriving at Kia Kaha just before one.
I get out of the car, unbuckle Leia’s seat, and carry her across the car park to the front entrance. I’ve just reached the top of the steps when I realize a man is standing there, watching me.
I stop walking and stare at him. It’s Blue. My heart immediately doubles its speed. Not just because of who it is, but because of the look on his face. He looks absolutely furious.
“You married him,” he snarls. “You fucking bitch, you went and married him!”
My jaw drops, and I look around hurriedly for support, but although I can see people walking through the foyer, there’s nobody close by to help.
Holding Leia’s carry seat, I try to walk around him, but he moves to block my way.
“My lawyer will show the judge that it’s all fake,” he snaps. “You’re just a fucking money grabber—you married him for his money, and my lawyer will prove it.”
“Leave me alone.” Shaking, I try to walk around him to the right, but again he steps in my way. Although he’s not as tall as James, he’s bigger than me, and he’s wearing a vest that reveals alarmingly big biceps.
I’m angry and determined not to be intimidated. I take my phone out of my back pocket and, with one hand, start dialing. “I’m calling the police.”
Before I can react, though, he knocks the phone out of my hand, and it skitters across the floor. That upsets me—the phone is new and now it’s going to be all scratched, or worse, broken. “Get out of my way!” I say sharply.
Leia, unaccustomed to hearing me raise my voice, starts wailing.
Then, to my alarm, Blue reaches down and wraps a meaty fist around the handle of Leia’s carry seat. He tugs it, trying to wrench it out of my hand.
“Give her to me!” he yells.
“Blue, stop!” I’m frightened now. He yanks at the seat, but I hold it with both hands. As Leia is tossed about, she screams, striking fear into my heart. I can’t let her go. I can’t let this sorry excuse for a man have her.
“Fuck off, you fucking cunt!” He yanks the seat hard.
I stumble, then trip up the last concrete step and tumble onto my knees. Ooh, that hurt, but I still refuse to let go of the seat.
“Let go!” I yell.
He moves back, pulling me forward, and I fall onto my elbow, but continue to hold onto the seat as he drags me a few feet across the ground.
Infuriated, Blue kicks out at me, his shoe meeting my ribs with such force that it forces air out of my lungs. I scream until my throat hurts, terrified of losing Leia.
Oh God, I don’t know how much longer I can hold on…
Chapter Thirty-Three
Aroha
Blue kicks me again, harder, and it hurts so much… I curl around the carry seat, trying to protect Leia and myself. There’s blood on the concrete and on my clothes… Leia’s still wailing, and Blue’s cursing…
And then suddenly, there are voices and feet all around me. Someone wrenches Blue up and away, propelling him back to the wall, and James’s voice cuts through my pain. He says something I miss, but I hear the second bit: “You fucking piece of shit!”
There’s a smack like the sound of a fist striking a piece of meat, then another, and then someone—Henry I think—says, “James, enough.” Feet scuffle, but I’m distracted by a female voice, and then Missie appears in my vision, bending down.
“Aroha. Aw, sweetheart, come on, sit up.”
