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I shrug, hiding my smile behind my drink. “Guess we’ll find out.”
Chapter Fifty
Thea
“Ihave an old friend in town, do you mind if he stops by? I ended up with some of his souvenirs after our last cruise, I wanted to get them back to him,” my mom tells us from her spot at the table.
We’re just finishing dessert after our Thanksgiving meal. Jesse and I hosted this year since Nathan and Callie just got home from their honeymoon a few days ago.
“Sure, mom. No problem.” I clear away some of the dishes, feeling stuffed and ready for a nap. Jesse bumps my hip, shooing me from the sink. “I can do it,” I tell him.
“You cooked, I can handle dishes,” he insists, but I still lean against the counter wanting to be near him. Even after being together a couple of months now, I feel like we’re glued to the hip and I love it.
“Malec’s going to come to watch the game,” Jesse says eventually as we all make our way into the living room.
“Okay, sounds good.” I yawn. I’ll probably be out like a light before halftime.
“I’ll get it,” Nathan offers after the doorbell rings since he’s closest. I don’t pay attention to it, claiming my seat on the couch. “Chris?” I hear Nathan say, surprised.
“Look, Thea, it’s your dad’s old friend, Christopher. He’s in my widow group now.”
My mom’s words are lost on me as I process what I’m hearing in slow motion… People are moving around me, the TV is on, but I can’t focus on any one thing. My world is suddenly spinning upside down.
“Thea, are you okay?” I hear Jesse’s voice but my head is swimming. I turn to him, but my eyes make contact with the man standing in the doorway over his shoulder. Christopher.
I had forgotten his name, or chosen not to remember it after all of these years, but hearing it sends me right back to that day. The tequila, the drugs, the violation, the agony that I suffered.
“My dad’s friend…” I mumble almost incoherently, feeling the blood drain from my body and go who knows where. Jesse looks at me then over his shoulder, and his face morphs to fury. He moves quickly, but it looks like stop-motion flashing in front of me.
He’s on him, tackling him to the ground and punching him before anyone can even react. Nathan’s quickest, trying to pull him off, and letting the now gray-haired man stumble down the porch steps. Once he’s out of sight, I suck in a strangled breath of relief.
“What the hell, man?” Nathan shouts, struggling to hold Jesse back.
“He’s the one who hurt Thea. That bastard raped her,” Jesse yells, making everyone balk.
I don’t react, my fluttering eyelashes are the one thing keeping me from being completely paralyzed. I’m just lively enough to see the accusation register on Nathan’s face. He lets Jesse go and they both disappear from the entryway while my ears ring. My head hits the back of the couch and my vision goes white before I can see what happens next.
I don’t know how long I’m out for, but I have to blink away the blurriness in my eyes before I can see Jesse pacing in front of me. “Jesse?” I mumble, seeing his instant relief.
“Hey, baby. Are you okay?” He grabs my hands and kisses them before sweeping the hair out of my face.
“I’m okay, what happened?” I ask, noting the bloodiness of his hands, but choosing to ignore it. “Is he gone?”
“Yeah. He’s never coming back.” His voice is so hard, so void of emotion it startles me.
“What did you do?” I ask, panicked. If he killed him then he could be taken from me forever. I never want that to happen. Christopher isn’t worth losing Jesse.
“We chased him down and beat his ass,” Nathan says from somewhere in the room. “Someone wouldn’t let us finish the job…” He grumbles.
“You invited me over to watch football, not so I could witness a murder,” Malec interjects.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” Nathan mumbles, making Callie scold him quietly.
I don’t know why, the situation isn’t funny in the slightest, but I laugh. A full, deep belly laugh that makes my eyes water. It’s so ridiculous, the whole situation. What are the chances that he would show up here? How could he have the nerve?
I don’t care, he got what he deserved. I hope he’s disfigured the rest of his life from the beating he received.
“I think she’s cracked,” someone murmurs, but I’m laughing too hard to know who it is.
