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She shifted closer to him. He twirled his fork around some noodles and offered her a bite. She shook her head, and her smile disappeared. He almost dropped his fork by the sudden change in her expressions.
“Mia killed her father…and I helped.”
At that, he did drop his fork into the container.
He wasn’t sure if he heard her correctly. His hand was frozen in the air as he tried to process what she said.
“That’s the answer to your question.”
His brows dipped low. “No. That just raises another slew of questions. I don’t understand.” He set his container to the nightstand. “Don’t leave me hanging here, Gabriella. Please explain.”
Her eyes moved straight ahead, glaring at her closet as if it were the entrance to a mountain of treasure. “He was abusive. Beat her mom up until the day she died. Mia was sixteen when her mom died from cancer. He never hit Mia when her mom was around. But she wasn’t around anymore. So, he went to his next best target—Mia.”
He watched as her face morphed into so many emotions; it was hard to keep track of what one she was experiencing at the moment. The urge was strong to pull her into his arms, but he knew she needed to finish.
This had to be a sick joke. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Yet, by the stiffness in her posture and the fact she refused to look at him, told him this was no joke.
“I never knew anything. She was very good at hiding it. At masking her bruises with makeup, even her mother’s when she was alive. It’s no wonder she works at the theater costuming people and applying their makeup. She’s perfected it from a young age. It’s sad when you think about it.”
He watched as she fiddled with the end of the blanket. It took all his strength and control to wait for her to continue. If he interrupted, he feared she wouldn’t finish her story.
“We were coming home from a movie when I found out the first time what was happening. It started raining on us, and it washed part of her makeup off. You should’ve seen the nasty bruise on her face. It didn’t take long for her to confess it was from her dad. I didn’t give her much choice. I demanded she call the police. She wouldn’t. But I wouldn’t give up. I made her go.”
She sighed—a huge intake of breath followed by an equally large exhale; her entire body moved from the exertion.
“They didn’t believe her.”
“What?”
At his shocked tone, she finally turned in his direction. “Her dad was a cop. I made the mistake of taking her to the precinct where he worked. I guess he had a habit of saying how mentally unstable Mia was—hurting herself after her mother died. I guess he needed an excuse if she was ever brave enough to rat him out. It worked. They wouldn’t believe her. Of course, that didn’t stop me. I raised the roof, spouting out things a sixteen-year-old shouldn’t say. I wrote letters to the captain about how horribly he ran his department, how filthy and despicable his officers were.”
“I can picture that very well.” He smiled. She was a force to be reckoned with; he could only imagine what she had been at age sixteen. She didn’t magically turn out to be this strong, defiant woman in a day.
A small grin tinged her lips. “Mia started to hide herself better after that from me. She insisted he backed off since I made a stink with the cops. I didn’t believe her. I knew she was lying. But there wasn’t anything I could do. The dumb cops wouldn’t believe her. Her dad even made her go to therapy as if she was the one who needed help.”
She glanced back at the closet. “She called one night—crying, hysterical. I could hear yelling and banging in the background. She had locked herself in her room. He was in a drunken rage trying to get inside. All she kept saying to me was, ‘I need you, Gabby. Please help me.’ I can still hear those words sometimes when I close my eyes. I didn’t hesitate. I made it to her place as fast as I could. It didn’t even cross my mind to call the cops who probably wouldn’t have believed me anyway. The front door was unlocked. I ran up the stairs and started screaming at him to leave her alone. I didn’t know he had his gun, and neither did Mia. He turned to me and fired the weapon.”
“What?” He grabbed her by the shoulders, turning her to look at him. “He shot you. Where?”
A soft hand landed on his cheek. “He was drunk. He had horrible aim and only grazed my arm.” She pointed to a tiny scar on her right bicep. “I don’t know what came over me, but I charged at him. This two-hundred-fifty-pound man and I charged him like I could honestly kick his ass. I did manage to knock him to the ground, but that was about it. He got the upper hand and started hitting me. Mia rushed out of her room and joined in the fray. Two seventeen-year-old girls fighting a drunk bastard with a mean temper. When he knocked Mia out of the way, he lost the gun in the process. He started wailing into my face.”
Dane slid his hand down her arms in a soothing caress when she stopped speaking. He finally understood why she didn’t want to answer what he thought was a simple question. Forcing her to continue was the last thing he wanted to do, but he could tell she needed to finish her story even though she had paused. The determination was in her eyes to keep going. She inhaled deeply. Then she slowly let it out.
“Mia did the only thing she could think of. She picked up the gun on the floor and fired. I swear my heart stopped for a moment when his dead weight fell on me. That was almost worse than when he was beating me.”
He squeezed her hands when a shiver rippled throughout her body.
“The cops had no trouble believing us that time. My face was proof enough, as was the toxicology report that came back, indicating he was heavily under the influence. To my surprise, Mia kept very detailed documentation of every single time he hit her. The number of apologies we received was amazing.” Her face turned hard as granite. “Do you know what I told them they could do with those apologies?”
He chuckled as he pictured his beautiful Gabriella giving those men a piece of her mind. “To go screw themselves. Because that’s exactly what’s going through my mind.”
She laughed. “You do understand me.”
“I’m beginning to understand so many things.” He couldn’t resist any longer. He kissed her softly. “I see why you don’t like to talk about it. But thank you.”
“You asked why I would help Mia no matter what. Because every time she asks for the simplest of things, I don’t hear that simple request. I hear that terrified voice crying, whispering to me to come help her. It took a while for both of us to move on, but we managed together. Mia still has bad days. She’s so fragile.”
“This is why you became a cop.” He was in awe of her. Her bravery. Her strength. Her ability to keep fighting when it’s not always easy to fight.
