When I came to, Daniel was gone, more than likely back at the bar tying another one on, and I took that as my opportunity to escape. The fact that I made it to my brother’s house, my vision blurred from the broken nose and intense pain, one hand curled and useless, was nothing less than a miracle.

His front door flew open and he came running out when I pulled into his driveway at a fast clip, taking out his mailbox in my attempt to park.

“Jesus Christ!” he yelled as he rushed to the driver side. “What the fuck, Ly. Are you all ri—” His words cut off when he got my door open and caught his first glimpse of my bruised and bloodied face. “What. The. Fuck!” he bellowed, pulling me from the car.

I let out a yelp as fire shot through my ribs. “Stop, stop, stop,” I cried. “My ribs. I think he broke my ribs.”

“Who broke your ribs, sweetheart? Talk to me. What happened?”

“Dan,” I managed to get out as the pain began to overwhelm me and my vision started to fade again. “Dan. Hospital.” Then I blacked out again.

* * *

My hospital room had finally cleared out, leaving me alone with Will for some much-needed peace and quiet after hours of being poked, prodded, and questioned. I regained consciousness on the car ride to the hospital, but had been in too much pain to fully disclose what had happened.

When Will pulled up to the emergency room, they’d immediately taken me back to be seen but had barred my brother from going with me. At first I’d been confused and upset, as had he, which he made obvious by raging and fighting with the security guards in the waiting room for keeping him from his sister.

Turned out they were under the mistaken impression that he’d been the one to do this to me, and they wanted me alone so they could ask questions they feared I wouldn’t be honest about with him in the room. I quickly explained, placing the blame on the person who deserved it.

After telling the nurses that my soon-to-be ex-husband had been the one to do a number on me, they quickly allowed Will back. Shortly after, the cops arrived, having been called by the hospital, and I went through the entire horrific story for them all to hear. Having to admit my failure in front of my big brother, the one who’d protected me all my life, was the most humiliating ordeal I’d ever been through, and I could barely get through it all without bursting into tears.

There had been several times, when I started to silently cry, that he’d gotten so angry for me that the police officers had to warn him to keep calm or they’d have to remove him again. Of course, he hadn’t liked that one bit, so he quickly shut his mouth, but I could still feel the rage radiating off him from across the room.

When it was all finally over and done with, and my copious injuries—five cracked ribs, a broken nose, a broken hand, a concussion, and multiple lacerations and bruises—were documented and photographed, I was left alone.

They’d casted my hand and were keeping me overnight to monitor me because of the concussion when all I wanted to do was go home—or to Will’s home—and sleep in a comfortable bed that wasn’t paper thin.

Silence descended on the room, making me itchy and uncomfortable. Will sat in the chair beside my bed, staring but not saying a word. I was disconcerted enough as it was; I couldn’t handle his stoic silence any longer.

“Will you say something?” I finally asked, breaking through the whirring of the air conditioner. “Anything, I don’t care. Yell at me. Tell me I’m an idiot for ever marrying him. I just can’t take you giving me the silent treatment.”

His forehead furrowed in a deep, harsh frown. “Is that what you think?” he asked in an ominously low voice. “You think I’m mad at you?”

“I don’t know because you aren’t talking to me. What else was I supposed to think?” I went to throw my hands up, but a bolt of agony shot through my ribs so intense that it stole my breath and made me cry out, which only made the pain that much worse.

“Christ.” Will moved fast, shooting from his chair and bending over the bed to place gentle hands on me. “Careful, baby girl. Don’t hurt yourself. Just… stop moving.”

“Good God,” I grunted, sitting back on the reclined bed, my eyes squeezed closed. “Jeez, who knew cracked ribs could hurt so damn bad.”

“I’m gonna kill that motherfucker,” Will growled as he paced, prowling the room like a wild beast in captivity. “I’m gonna drive over there and rip his goddamn head off for what he did to you!”

I wasn’t sure why, but seeing my brother like that did me in. In spite of the excruciating pain, I burst into body-racking sobs. “Ow, ow, ow. Oh shit, that hurts,” I said between hiccups.

Will rushed back over, pulling his chair closer and wrapping my undamaged hand is his big, strong one. “Shh, shh, sweetheart. It’s okay.”

I finally got ahold of myself… somewhat. “I-I’m s-s-so st-stupid.” I sniffled.

“Hey now, stop that.” His callused fingers skated through my hair soothingly. “You’re not stupid, baby girl. This isn’t your fault at all. It’s all on that son of a bitch.”

“But if I hadn’t—”

“No,” he commanded fiercely. “No. I’m not letting you take blame for any of this, so don’t even try it.”

“You don’t understand,” I said on a broken, defeated whisper. “I knew. I knew I made a mistake before I ever walked down that aisle. I was having second thoughts when you came in to talk to me. Hell, I’d been having them since he slipped that ring on my finger. It gradually got worse throughout our engagement, but I always made excuses for it. I finally had enough. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I was packing up to leave when he—” I swallowed thickly, unable to finish that particular sentence. “I should’ve listened to my gut. I never should’ve married him. How is that not my fault?”

“You loved him once, and you wanted to make it work. That’s how. It didn’t work out. That isn’t a reflection on you, Lyla. You gave it your best shot, and no one, not one fucking person, can say you didn’t try.”

“But I never should’ve—”

“We grow, baby girl. As people, we grow every single day for as long as we live. That means we make mistakes, and we learn from those mistakes so we don’t find ourselves down the same road later in the future. If you aren’t constantly learning, you’re doin’ something wrong, sweetheart. This was you learning. But that doesn’t mean that bastard had a right to put his hands on you, and you can bet your ass that I’ll be making sure he never does again.”

“Will, please don’t. Whatever you’re thinking, just don’t. Okay? Promise me you won’t hurt him.”

“I can’t make that promise, Ly. And I can’t believe you’d ask me to. After what he did to you, are you really fuckin’ defending him right now?”

“No, of course not! I’m protecting you! I don’t want you to get into any trouble. Not for me. So please, promise.”

“I won’t get into any trouble.”

That did absolutely nothing to assuage the fear building in the pit of my stomach. “He’s an asshole, Will. Like the king of assholes! If you kick his ass, he’ll file charges, I just know it.” The longer I pleaded, the more frantic I grew. I couldn’t let him hurt Will too. I just couldn’t.

“Baby girl, I won’t get into trouble, I swear.”

“Just promise me you won’t touch him. Don’t give him an excuse to go after you. Don’t let that bastard take you away from me. Please.”

“Okay, okay,” he cooed as I pulled on his hand, forcing him closer. “I promise. You have my word, Lyla. I won’t touch him. But this asshole’s gonna pay. If you don’t press charges—”

“Oh, I’m pressing charges. You bet your ass I’m pressing charges.”

For the first time all night, my big brother actually smiled at me, and with that bright, handsome grin shining down on me, I finally felt like everything was going to be okay.

As long as I had my big brother, things would always be okay.