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“Hey,” I tell my reflection in the elevator’s mirror. “Just say hey. Hey is good. Hey is normal. Everybody says hey.”
I groan loudly as the elevator door opens and I make my way to Tracy’s apartment. A knock on the door and then I wait.
Tracy’s voice comes from the other end, “Who is it?”
I frown at how frail it sounds, almost beaten down. “Tracy, it’s Duke. Open the door.”
There’s a pause from the other end and then she says, “I’m a little busy right now…”
Her voice is unsteady and alarm bells start ringing in my head. “What’s wrong? You don’t sound okay.”
“Nothing. Everything’s fine. Go away, Duke. P-please.” Her voice cracks at the please.
Something cold unfurls within me. ‘“Tracy, you’re not okay. Open the door.”
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“I’m fine!”
“If you don’t open the door, I’ll get the master keys and open it.” I put my hands on the door, wishing I could reach out to touch her and make sure she’s all right. “Please, Tracy. I just need to see if you’re okay.”
There’s a long pause and I hear the click of the door.
Before she opens it, she says, “You can’t overreact, okay?”
I make no such promise and the minute the door is open and I take a look at her face, I suck in a deep breath.
My anger is cold, ice is in my veins as I take in the bruises on her face, the black eye, the split lip. My hand reaches out to grasp her chin and she lets out a quiet gasp as I tilt her head up to study her injuries. “Give me a name.” I say, my tone dangerously calm.
“Duke, please.”
She looks so fragile in this moment that it pisses me off. Tracy is strong, confident like the calmest waters in a storm. She’s sassy, funny, and she’s like a fucking mountain. Seeing her like this, so broken and small, it makes me want to break something, shed some blood.
It’s really difficult to rein in my temper and I swallow my rage, sliding my hand down to grasp hers, and pulling her along with me. She doesn’t put up much of a fight.
I bring her to my apartment set her down on the couch facing the television and retrieve the first aid kit from the bathroom. She’s quiet and still, as my hands are gentle as I clean her injuries, my heart hurting with each flinch and each wince that escapes her lips.
I then speak, “You’ll have to cover all of these, so Max doesn’t see them. I’ll stay with you when you explain to him about what happened. We’ll handle this together. So, don’t worry. He shouldn’t go to school for the next few days. He’ll need to be around you. I’ll take care of everything.”
Tears are welling up in Tracy’s eyes and one slips over her cheek, as she whispers, hoarsely, “Thank you, Duke.”
“Don’t thank me,” I say, harshly. “Paul did this, didn’t he?”
She doesn’t say anything but her eyes give me all the answers, I need.
“I quit,” she says, finally, her voice quiet. “He called me into his office and he—”
I shake my head. “Don’t tell me. Not if you don’t want me to go and kill him right now.” My finger runs lightly over the bruise over her cheek. “I should slit his throat for even putting this look in your eyes.”
“You can’t do anything, Duke!” Tracy looks frantic.
I stare at her, silently.
Desperate, she grabs my arm, “Duke, promise me! Paul has very good connections. He can ruin your life.”
My jaw clenches but I can’t bear to see the fear in her eyes, so I lie between my teeth, “Fine. I promise.”
I apply the bandage to her cuts as I stare at her battered form, feeling helpless. If I want, I can go right now and wring that greasy bastard’s neck but I haven’t been sitting on my hands idle ever since I heard what Tracy has been going through at his hands. No, I’ve been collecting evidence to use, testimonials that will destroy him.
