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I waitfor Louis in the waiting room of the ER. He needs stitches from the rock to the head he took. Big D fractured three of his ribs and caused severed bruising to his torso.
It’s minutes before five in the morning before he’s finally released. After so many hours in the waiting room reading eight-month-old tabloid magazines and watching informercials on the TV, I’ve dozed off.
“Kitty cat.”
A second goes by of me yawning and rubbing my eyes. “Louis? Louis!”
Relief sweeps over me as I jump up and throw my arms around him. He winces when I go in too hard.
“Careful. Still a little tender. Broken ribs.”
“Oh, shit. Sorry. Give me your keys. I’m driving.”
We make it to the parking garage. Louis refuses to let me help him into the passenger seat. I roll my eyes and go around to the driver side.
“How are you feeling?” I ask once we’re on the streets.
Even downtown Vegas is deserted so early in the morning. Most tourists have returned to their hotels for the night and locals long ago went home.
“I feel like some cazzo asshole knocked me over the head with a rock,” he answers.
I blow out a guilty breath. “Louis… you didn’t have to come. I didn’t want you getting involved.”
“Stop. Because I didn’t get involved sooner all this happened how it did. You should’ve told me what was going on. He’s been controlling you for how many years, and you’ve neglected to mention it?”
“Why would I mention it to you?”
“The guy was a piece of shit. I could’ve helped you get out.”
We’ve hit a red light. I use the time to close my eyes and keep my mood in check. “It was my situation. My problem to deal with. I didn’t want anybody involved.”
“And what were you gonna do when he kept demanding more money out of you?”
“I would’ve figured it out.”
“Because that was working out so well for you.”
I scowl, pressing the gas on green. “Well, I’ll tell you one thing. I couldn’t get bitched at if nobody knew. That was a good thing.”
“You can’t do everything on your own. Sometimes you need help. Sometimes there’s no shame in asking for it. People care about you. They want to help if they can. I’m one of those people, Tasha. You know that’s true,” he lectures. “I get it. You had a rough childhood and couldn’t depend on the people you were supposed to be able to. I feel the same way about my trash father.”
“You’re one to lecture about help. You wouldn’t even let me help you into the car.”
Louis’s glare burns through me from where I sit, even though I’m not even looking at him. My gaze is on the road, but I can see him out the corner of my eye.
I sigh. “Big D was a really dangerous guy. He’s killed people’s families. He had direct access to mine and let me know every chance he got.”
“We would’ve handled him.”
“You don’t get it.”
I’m shutting down.
Explaining myself feels exhausting when I already know no one gets it. No one understands my history with D and the effect he had on me. It probably doesn’t make sense to Louis why I listened to him, stayed working for him for so many years, but that’s because it doesn’t make sense to me either.
Big D has always been the worst thing to happen to me. Yet his influence never faded; some part of me was still the same girl who fell in love with him and believed if I worked hard enough, he’d love me too.
