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“I don’t need you to take care of me, Shane,” I said, my voice a little hollow. “I’ve been doing alright dealing by myself so far.”
Shane exhaled loudly and I knew he was trying to think his words through, not let them explode from him like he usually did. A part of me would prefer the explosion. It was familiar.
“Look, I know you got away by yourself. You found your way here without me. You got your life set up all over again without me. But I’m part of that life now. I didn’t force you into that. You invited me in. So when shit like this is happening to you, it’s happening to me too. I need to be aware. Because the man stabbing a knife into your fucking brother’s stomach in retribution for you leaving doesn’t exactly seem like the kind of guy who is going to give up. Whatever went on in your past, it’s not over. I am asking you to tell me what I am up against when it does eventually find you here. Because, baby, I know you don’t want to hear this and I’m not trying to scare you, but it will find you here eventually.”
I knew that. I had always known that. It was why I didn’t want to get involved with him. It was why I didn’t want to make friends, let alone a makeshift family out of his. I knew Ross was determined. I knew I was his and what was his was always his. He would never give me up. He would, eventually, find his way to Navesink Bank.
My plan was always to run again.
To keep running.
“I should go,” I said, my tone defeated.
“You’re not going fucking anywhere. Are you really going to be so chickenshit as to run away so you don’t have to share? You’re stronger than that, Lea.”
I exhaled hard, blinking back the strange sting of tears in my eyes. I wasn’t sure if they were from his steadfast determination to get to know me, to protect me, to make me trust him… or if it was the fact that I really wanted that too and that scared the shit out of me.
“I loved him,” my voice said, I think shocking me as much as him. “I really did. He was great to me for a long time. Protective, giving, respectful. It went on long enough for me to let my guard down. And just about then was when I realized he was no longer just being rough or dominant like it started out. It was rape, plain and simple. I said no and it didn’t matter. I fought and he held me down. That was when I told him to go fuck himself and tried to leave. Tried,” I said, looking over at Shane as I swallowed hard. The worst part in retelling wasn’t the rape. It wasn’t remembering the helplessness I felt. It wasn’t the betrayal of trust that came from having someone you loved violate you. The hardest part was what came after.
Shane’s hand squeezed my knee again, a small show of comfort that was the only kind I would have accepted right then.
“Ross, well, he didn’t like that. He never put his hands on me outside of the bed before. But that night, he snapped, slammed me up against a wall so hard that I was too dizzy to fight him as he dragged me down the stairs, threw me into his car, and drove me to the compound. My grandfather, father, and brother were in his club,” I explained, forgetting I had left out the history there, knowing it wasn’t the most important part. I swallowed hard, steeling myself for the rest. “He dragged me out of the car and into the building by my hair, tossing me down on the ground. My family stood, surprised, unsure what to do. My grandfather started to say something. Ross reached into his waistband, pulled out a gun, and put a plug right between his eyes.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Shane hissed, his body going tight again.
But I couldn’t stop once I started. “He warned my father and brother to never step in on his business, that I was his woman and it didn’t matter that I was their family, that club rules applied: brotherhood above everything, especially bitches. If they tried to step in, help me, get me out, they would have a much more drawn-out, painful death than my grandfather did.”
“So you stayed,” Shane guessed.
“There’s no other way to put it. I wasn’t chained up. I wasn’t watched twenty-four seven. I just… stayed.”
“To protect them?” Shane asked.
I felt myself nod. “Mostly.”
“Can I say something here that you might not want to hear?”
“You’re pretty good at that,” I said, forcing a wobbly smile, giving him permission, surprised that he asked for it in the first place.
