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I awaken in the dark and lie there on my back, looking up at the ceiling and the light from the open blinds dancing across it. I can hear voices just outside the door talking quietly, and I know three of them are Kenyon, Brie, and Cobi. The others I can’t place. My eyes burn because I’ve cried so much and my throat’s sore and dry. With a pounding at the back of my skull that will only be cured with Tylenol, I toss back the blankets covering me and sit up. Carefully, I get out of bed and go to the bathroom. I search until I find something to take for my headache, splash water on my face, and then lean closer to the mirror, when my eye catches my attention. The white is blood red, probably from the pressure Mr. Shelp exerted when he was choking me. My eyes drop to my neck where a purple and ugly shade of green collar circles my throat. My head falls forward and I bring my hands toward my face, fingers curled into my palms. When I see the dried blood under my nails, my chest burns. I flip the hot water on, grab the hand soap, and start to scrub my hands together. My throat works as I try to swallow down a new wave of tears. When the blood doesn’t wash away, I whimper in distress, add more soap, and scrub harder. I hold my hands under the hot water and bend forward, resting my forehead to the cold counter, needing to calm down so I can breathe.
The water goes off and a strong arm wraps around me from behind. “I got you, baby,” Cobi says gently.
I shake my head frantically back and forth. “I can’t get his blood out from under my nails.”
“Let me see.” Grabbing my hips he moves me around to face him, then lifts me up to sit on the counter. I watch him take my hands between his and lift them to his lips. “There’s nothing there, baby. You got them all clean.”
“Why did he do that?” I drop my forehead to his chest with my hands still captured between us. “Why couldn’t he just do the right thing and clean himself up for his kids?” I draw in a shaky breath, trying to allow the feeling of him close relax me.
“You’ll never get those answers, babe. I think you know that better than most people do.” God, do I ever… At the same time I don’t at all, because I cannot imagine having a child, or children, taken from me because of my own stupidity then refusing to do everything within my power to get them back.
“Is he still in jail?” Panic fills me at the idea of him being out. I know the officers were taking him in when I was still crying on Cobi’s lap, but I don’t know if he was released on bail, because I’ve been asleep since Cobi brought me back to his place.
Releasing the hold he has on me, he slides his hands up between us then around each side of my neck tipping my face back toward him. His eyes move over me and his anger from earlier comes back as they land on my neck and the bruising there.
“He won’t see a judge until morning, and no way will I allow him to get off easy. He assaulted you in a public place with witnesses. Each and every person there agreed that if they hadn’t intervened he would have killed you.”
“Cobi,” I whisper, not sure what I can say to defuse the situation.
“I’m going to personally make sure he serves time, and a lot of it, for what he did and his reasoning for doing it.”
“Okay,” I agree, resting my palms against his chest where I can feel his heart pounding hard.
He drops his forehead to mine and keeps his gaze on mine as he speaks, “Life is not always roses. And I understand better than most that sometimes people slip up and make mistakes but I know—” His fingers on my neck slide ever so lightly across my skin. “—I know that if you want something better, you’ll get up, dust yourself off, find a way to right your wrongs, and make that happen.” His steady voice drops to a growl as he continues, “What you won’t do is blame someone else for up your fuck up and then take your pain out on them. He had no right to be pissed at you, no right to get in your space, and no fucking right to put his hands on you the way he did.”
“You’re right,” I state gently, hoping to calm him.
“I want to kill him.” His eyes close like he’s in pain.
I move my hands up his chest. Hoping to soothe him in some way, I run the tips of my fingers over his jaw saying quietly, “I’m okay.”
