Damn.
“Like what?” she asks pointedly.
It takes a second for me to remember what she’s responding to.
“You mean… what can I do?”
Her annoyance returns, and I’m not loving the way she cloaks it with a paper-thin smile.
“Yeah. If you’re offering to help, what can you do?” An edge of challenge hardens her voice.
And at the challenge, I decide to show her exactly what I can do. I shift my focus to Nina.
“You got a restraining order on this guy yet?”
Not only do her eyes widen more—which I didn’t think was possible—but she pales.
“Oh God,” she utters. “He’d get so pissed if I did that.”
It’s the look on her face that makes me finally get it. “Nina, are you afraid for your life?”
She licks her lips and presses them together. Fresh tears well in her eyes.
Frowning, I push off from the doorframe and sit my ass down on the recliner across from her and Stella. Nina actually flinches at the movement, but Stella takes her hand.
“It’s all right,” Stella mutters, and even though half the time she’s looking at me like I’m a leper and the other half I think she’s checking me out, I feel an immoderate swell of pride that—for whatever reason—Stella might think I’m trustworthy.
I push the feeling aside and meet Nina’s frightened stare. “Has he threatened to kill you?” The question is as blunt as a hammer, but I know exact language is important. Maggie’s taught me that much. You can’t ask a domestic abuse victim if her partner has threatened to hurt her. He’s already hurt her.
If you meankill,you have to saykill.
But the word has the expected effect. Stella flinches, and Nina sort of implodes.
It’s like her ribs collapse, and everything folds in on itself as she sobs. She pulls her hand from Stella’s and covers her face.
“Jesus Christ,” Stella gasps, wrapping an arm around Nina’s back and tucking her into her side. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“I-I’m…” Nina hiccups between sobs, “sorry… I’ll… g-go.”
Stella’s eyes bug.“What?!No, you will not.” Her tone is so stern even I snap to attention. “You’re not going anywhere, and we’re not going to let anyone hurt you.”
We’re.
Stella just saidwe’re.
That swell of pride is back in triplicate.
But when I look at the two of them, Nina a wreck of tears and terror and Stella wrapping her up, green eyes calm but burning with a rare kind of determination, I know she’s right.
We’re not going to let anyone hurt Nina.
“I know someone who can help.”
Both women look up at me, one with hopelessness and the other with curiosity.
“My sister-in-law works for Faith House.” I shrug in concession. “She’s on maternity leave right now, but she’s a social worker in their Outreach Center. I can give her a call.”
I don’t mention that I’m currently at the top of Maggie’s shit list. Even today at Sunday dinner, she refused to crack a smile at any of my jokes, and she let the screen door slam right in my face when I was carrying a cup of hot coffee out to the back porch.
