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“I’ve left him,” she whispers. “But he won’t let us go easy. When he finds us, he’ll take us back.”
“We’ll help you.” Bobby places a soft hand on her shoulder. “If you’re scared of him, if you’re serious, then we’ll help you. But you need to come to the police station. We start the paperwork for a restraining order.”
“But that’ll tip him off that we left!”
Kit steps around Bobby now that he’s decided she’s safe. She brushes a hand along Lindsi’s arm. “He’s gonna know two hours from now, anyway. When you’re not there to cook his dinner, he’ll know. Get your shit rolling now, then get behind the gate and bunker down.”
Lindsi’s eyes wheel around our group. Kit. Bobby. Me. Jim; who remains towering over her angrily.
“Jimmy, stand down.” I pull him back, and though he comes, his fiery eyes stop on my cheek.
“Apologize.”
My head whips back in shock. “Huh?”
He turns to Lindsi. “Apologize for hitting her. You don’t get to hit my wife, not ever.”
“Jim. Leave her alone.”
“I’m sorry.” Fat tears roll along her cheek. “I’m sorry I hit you. You’ve been so kind. I hit you, I called you a whore–”
“You what?”
I smack Jim’s arm to shush him.
“I called you horrible things, but you’ve been so kind to me.”
“It’s not your fault he’s a piece of shit. And it’s not my fault, either.”
“I’m sorry.”
I smile. “We’re cool. Let’s go back inside, give the kids some love, let them run off some energy while we talk.”
“Then we go to the police station,” Bobby adds seriously. “It’s non-negotiable.” He turns to me with a sly grin. “Go ahead and grab an ice pack, Rocky. How many times did she hit you? Your chin’s bruised, too.”
“The chin was from your wife, asshole. Then she laughed about it.”
He barks out a laugh and pulls Kit under his arm. “That’s my girl.”
I let Jim lead me away, but I turn and grab Lindsi’s hand in mine.
She’s coming in, whether she likes it or not.
