“Barns Veterinarian services, this is Tommy.” I don't recognize the number so I answer it like it's a business call. It's probably just a wrong number. The area code isn't even from around here.
“To—” The person on the line clears their throat. “Tommy?”
“The one and only.” I smirk. “Sorry, yes. This is Tommy, how can I help you?” I'm one elbow deep in cow shit and if I drop this phone in this pile I'm fucking burning it. Sometimes this job's the shit. Other days this job literally has me playing in shit.
“It's me...it's Affton,” the unfamiliar voice says and I chuckle. This is not Affton. This person's got the most city tone I've ever fuckin' heard. Affton would never sound like this.
“Funny. Who the hell is this?” I grunt and take a step back, yanking off my glove and tossing it to the ground.
“My mother died,” the voice clips. “I'll be in town in six hours and I need a place to stay. Just until the funeral tomorrow. Listen, no questions. No...small talk. I just need somewhere to sleep. I haven't slept in almost three days.”
“No que—” I stop myself. I heard Bo's mom died. I was planning on going to the funeral. But..Affton? “That really you, Beany?” My stomach drops and I have to sit down. “Affton?” I whisper after a moment of silence from her.
The woman huffs. “Yeah, it's me.” I've experienced a range of emotions from Affton, but I've never heard this tone from her. This ain't my girl.
“Hell,” I puff. “You're...coming? Here? Home?” And she wants to stay with me? “How long?”
“Just tonight.” She sounds annoyed. “The funeral is tomorrow and directly after it, I'm leaving.”
“Wow. I uh, yeah. Sure. Yes, of course,” I stammer, getting to my feet. My heart's racing. I'm going to see her in a few fucking hours and I smell like motherfucking cow shit! “Hey, I'll message you my address, okay? I gotta finish up some work and you shouldn't be driving and talking. So uh... I'll see you soon, okay?” There's a smile on my face and I'm not sure when it got there. It definitely should not be there with the current situation of her mom's death, but I can't break it.
“Tommy,” she blurts my name, and that sounds like my girl. “Thanks,” she whispers, going back to that sad tone then the call disconnects.
I'm sure the tone is just sadness over her mom dying. I'm sure she regrets never coming back to visit once she left.
I hop on the new Kenshaw horse, Control, and head out to Brandt in the field. Addict ended up not making it and it killed Jo, but she's pretty fond of this new horse. I think this one will be just as trainable as Addict was, which is helpful with their upcoming expansion. They bought the farm fields that butt up to their property so come harvest time they'll be fielding more crops as well as the animals on the ranch.
I find Brandt out in the field and head over to him.
“Hey,” I say, bringing Control to a stop.
“What's goin' on?” He glances over at me, gripping lightly onto his horse's reigns, moving his eyes back to the herd.
“I uh... I'm heading out. Good?”
I don't want to explain to him why. I’m not even sure I believe it, and the fact that she's not going to Bo's but she’s coming straight to my house means Bo probably doesn't even know she's gonna be in town. She told me no questions asked, but I plan on being full of them tonight.
“You just got here.” He chuckles. “Tommy, if ranch hours aren't your thing we can find a different vet. Honestly, I know you're busy at the shop. Tattoo artist and large animal veterinarian is the weirdest damn combination of jobs I've ever seen, so I totally get it.”
It is, but I'm not changing it. I can enjoy doing both.
“It's not the hours,” I blurt, pissed a kid two years younger than me has his shit together more than I do. It's intimidating, and I don't like being intimidated. “I just got a call from an old friend. A pretty important friend,” I mutter. “She's coming back to town today and I gotta be home and not smelling like shit when she gets here.”
“Who is it?” He's curious now but I can't tell him. He'll go straight to Bo; those two have always been inseparable.
“Just a friend. She's older than me, you probably wouldn't know her. Look, I'm almost done with what I needed to do this morning. I'm going to finish up.”
It's not been that long since I started working here, and aside from having the craziest work hours, I actually like it. I'm able to work with the large animals more, something that I didn't get to do as much when my dad and I traveled together. I'm in charge of the chick delivery, and now that Kenshaw Ranch supplies the farm stores in the few surrounding towns, that's a day’s worth of driving every week right there.
“I'm just giving ya a hard time. You know I don't give a damn, as long as you get done what needs to get done. I'm just happy to have the help. Ever since Bo's had to slow down cause that injury, your extra help’s been appreciated. And with him being off all week for his mom's funeral, we're hurting. Whenever you can work helps out.”
“Thanks, man. I'll see ya tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” he mutters. “Burying my best friend's mom. We're too young for this shit.”
“Yeah.” I watch the field briefly, then it clicks that I'm burning time until she gets here and I need to get home and clean up. “I'll see ya tomorrow, Brandt.” My mind's focused on one thing and one thing only. I should be focused on feeling bad for Affton, but I need to see her first. I need my arms around her.
Fifteen years and she's finally coming back around.
“Later.” He clicks his heels and takes off to the other end of the field to round up some cattle that are starting to stray.
I finish up my work in record time and with a skip to my fucking step. Affton's coming back!
On the drive home I call Chase at the shop.
“What's up?” I hear the jingle of the front door bell and smile, knowing he's got a day full of appointments. “You still workin' tonight?”
“Uh, no.” I cringe. “I can't.”
“What? I got shit to do, Tommy, and we got appointments out the ass!”
“Can Grant come in?”
“I'll message him,” he groans and I hear him clicking on the keyboard.
Chase came back and bought the tattoo parlor. Now Disposable Ink's exploded over the last six months and he’s starting to get bogged down. His clients from Vegas found out where his new shop opened the minute his old boss keeled over from a heart attack. Ever since, he's had people driving in from all around to get inked by the famous Chase Haring. He needs another full time artist though. He's got me and Grant part-time, but no one else in this town is talented enough to do the work expected in his shop, and the two of us aren't about to go full-time. I enjoy working with the animals too much and Grant and his stunt-self has too much fun dusting the fields.
“Okay, Grant's got your back this time. But he says you owe him a beer,” he finally answers and I let out the breath I was holding. “Mind telling me why you can't come in?”
“You askin' as my friend or the boss?” I smirk.
“Your friend, you ass.” He laughs.
“Affton will be at my house in about four hours.” It feels so fucking weird saying those words out loud.
“Affton Hart?” Chase used to run with us back in the day so he's one of the crew I know will actually remember her. “Holy fuck, I thought she was gone for good! Back in town for the funeral, I guess?”
“Yeah, but don't tell Bo. I'm not sure if he knows. She's stayin’ at my place.”
“Wow.” He whistles. “Tommy... I mean, she's different. You've seen her social media pages. She ain’t the girl you used to lookout for.”
“She's Affton, Chase,” I say, my heart fluttering because he's probably right but that doesn't change a thing. She's my girl.
“Be careful with her. Big city fashionista girls aren't anything to mess with,” he warns. He’s right. I know she’s different than she was back then, but she's still my girl. I'm about to remind her that what she walked away from wasn't all that bad to begin with. Then remind her about the pact we made if she wasn’t married by now. And from everything I’ve gathered, she’s far from marriage.
“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, bro. I'll see you tomorrow.” I end the call as I pull into my driveway.
Four hours and I have too much to do. I get right to work after turning on my house-wide speaker system. From cleaning out Ginnie's outdoor pen to mopping the floors, scrubbing the counters, and lighting a couple candles. I'm sweating by the time I'm done, but I've never cleaned that thoroughly or that fast before. I've got thirty minutes before she's here, so I hop in the shower and try to scrub the smells of the day off me.
It's ten minutes till six when I see the cloud of dust coming down my drive. The white puffs billow into the air before I see the car. I'm sure she's cussing up a storm right now at the rock road. I yank on a t-shirt and head to the front porch. When she pulls up to the house I feel like my heart's in my throat. I've been waiting for this moment for way too fucking long.
The girl that gets out of the car isn't my Affton. It's not even the girl from the texts we exchanged a while ago. Granted, she's ignored my messages since that day, but I know this isn't who she was back then. Her hair's...short. So fucking short. She looks way too put together to belong here in the country. But she's still fucking beautiful. I knew she changed just from following her so closely online, but it's so much different seeing it in person. I thought the primped look was for the media… This is Affton.
“Beany,” I say, taking the steps down to the pathway slowly. Like my legs can't believe she's really in front of me.
Her pinkish purple lips only partially pull up on one side. She's got a full face of makeup and huge black sunglasses hiding that beautiful face. She slides her fingers through her chin length hair then tugs at her shirt but she doesn't say anything. I walk over to her and wait for my hug but it doesn't come, so I awkwardly take her suitcase and set it on the ground next to me, then pull her in for contact. A tight fucking hug, because my god I've missed her. She quietly groans so I let go immediately and when she takes a step back, I cock my eyebrow.
“It was a long drive, Tommy.” Her voice almost sounds sick. This doesn't sound like her at all.
“Right.” I walk ahead of her, carrying her bag and when she slowly makes her way up the steps I watch her very carefully.
What's going on with her? I mean, I know her mom died but she was never close to her parents, even when she lived here. She’s moving like it’s hard to even process the task.
She follows me inside and out of the corner of my eye, I see her looking around, but she stays at my back. When I spin around, she flinches and bumps into the table; my lamp starts to spin and lands on the floor with a crash.
“Careful!” I blurt, not wanting her to step on the broken glass. She jumps when I yell and the small line between her eyebrows creases. “Sorry, Just... Don't hurt yourself. I'll be right back.” I head for the kitchen, mentally kicking myself for how this is going.
Maybe I shouldn't have pulled what I did when we exchanged those pictures. Maybe she wouldn’t be acting so awkward right now if that never happened.
When I walk back into the room with the broom and dustpan my steps falter and eyes go wide because she’s on the floor, cleaning it up herself.
“Affton, what the hell? Let me get that. I don't want you cutting yourself.”
She glances up at me, those massive sunglasses still planted firmly on her face and all I want to do is reach over and remove them. I want to see her eyes.
“I'm sorry,” she says with a quiver to her voice. “I'm so sorry. I'll buy you a new lamp. I promise. I didn't mean to do it.”
“It's a lamp.” I laugh it off. “Thing was ugly anyway. My dad bought it for me as a housewarming gift and I haven't had the heart to get rid of it. Thanks for helping me out.” I wink at her then go back to sweeping up the mess.
When she stands, she takes a few steps away and I glance over at her high-heeled feet. Heels. She used to be in cowboy boots or flip-flops. But I gotta say, high heels look sexy as fuck on Affton.
“Bathroom?” she asks in a whisper and I can hear the tears in her voice.
“Um...yeah.” I stand. “Yeah, um...” I watch her, a tear slipping below her sunglasses. “Shit, Beany.” I rush to her and wrap my arms around her, pulling her body to mine. “I'm so sorry, Bean,” I whisper.
“I'm so sorry,” she cries into my shoulder, her arms holding me tight while her body shakes.
I don't know what the hell she's apologizing for, and I sincerely hope it's not the lamp. I hold her, smoothing her hair down, still not used to the short cut but it looks good on her. Everything looks good on her. Even these goddamned heels that make her taller than me.
“Hey, come on. I'll show you your room and get some food heated up for ya. You hungry?”
“No,” she answers abruptly and pulls back, carefully wiping away those tears but not taking off the damn sunglasses. Maybe her eyes are bloodshot from crying? But that's just not Affton.
“Hey, it's evening, you know.” I chuckle and reach for the glasses but she flinches and my stomach drops. That's the third time she's flinched from me tonight. Affton never flinched from my touch before. What in the right hell did the last fifteen years do to her? “And it's way easier to see what other shit you're about to break in my house with these off,” I whisper, regaining my focus and slowly moving to take them off her face. “Hey,” I whisper when they're finally off. “There's my girl.”
“The glasses hide more.” She quietly chuckles, still not acting like herself and it's starting to worry me. Taking her sunglasses, she holds them in her hands and drops her head so we're not making eye contact anymore.
“I don’t like when you hide from me.” I rub the back of my neck. This shouldn't feel so forced. I reach out and take her hand in mine, needing some sort of contact with her.
But that's the minute everything fucking changes.
“Wow,” I blurt, my fingers feeling the massive ring on her ring finger. I let out a loud laugh. “Holy fuck, Affton!” I bark, taking a step back the minute my eyes hit the diamond ring that probably cost more than my house. “Wow. I mean...” I can't finish my sentence.
Here I was, the fucking idiot that assumed a girl like her wasn't married and figuring we could actually start something that we should have years ago. But...she's fuckin' married!
Her chin’s dropped and her gaze stays on the floor, her posture not changing.
“Goddammit, Affton,” I huff, running my hands through my hair and walking over to the couch. “Married! You're married?!” I feel like I could be sick. This is almost worse than when she called and told me about the baby. I... Fuck. “Were you ever going to tell me? Does your brother even fuckin' know? He doesn't, does he? I work with the guy the majority of the goddamned week, he would have said something. Why the fuck wasn’t I invited? When...” Goddammit I'm rambling and she's still just standing there like a fucking statue! “Beany! What the fuck?” I whine, feeling like shards of my heart are dropping to the pit of my stomach.
“I'm sorry,” she whispers, not lifting her head to face me, like all will be forgotten with the word sorry.
“That's all I get? After all this time, and everything...” I shake my head. “That's all you're giving me?”
“When I got pregnant I had to get married. You understand?” Who the fuck is this woman? She's talking to me like if she says the wrong thing I'll attack her or something! Every movement from her has been like she's sorry to fucking be alive! Who the hell is this girl?
“When you got pregnant,” I whisper. That was five years ago. “You've been married for five years…” Nodding, I sit here and stare at my floor. Beautiful floor. A floor I installed in this house because deep down she always raved about loving wide plank hardwood floors like this. “I uh...” I shake my head, unable to clear the fuzz. “I'll show you to your room.”
I have to get away from her to just clear my head. I want to scream. I want to kick her out. Get her out of my life forever. Because, honestly, the only thing I have ever truly wanted is now officially unattainable and she didn’t have the decency to tell me.
I get her to the room and show her the bathroom, not even capable of looking her in her eye. Eyes that just minutes ago I was dying to see again.
“I'll leave you be,” I mutter, turning to walk away. Away from her.
She doesn't say anything to stop me. I'm not sure why I thought she would. Rather, I hoped she would, but I should know better by now. She's living the life she wanted. Away from all of us and this place.
I head out back and Ginnie starts dancing around my feet. “Hey, girl,” I mumble, sliding down and sitting against the house.
Ginnie climbs on my lap and nuzzles in my beard. Usually this is the best, coming out here and spending time with her. She's better than any fucking pet anyone else has. But tonight, it's like she knows my mood. She's calm. She's snuggly.
“I fucked up, Ginnie,” I grumble and scratch her head. “My girl's not my girl.”
I'm not so stupid to think she's been saving herself for me. Lord knows I haven’t. Fifteen years is a long ass time, but you never fully fall out of love. Not if it was real.
She's married. Married! For five fucking years. That means... What we did...
“Oh my hell,” I groan, letting my head fall back against the house. Ginnie’s rough tongue licks at my hand until I start petting her again. I sexted her! A happily married woman! I like to enjoy women, but never married ones. That’s just... Fuck.
Maybe she's not happy. I'd never wish her to be in a bad marriage, but my girl wouldn't do what she did if she were happy. Hell, just looking at her an outsider could tell she's not okay. That's not my Affton. She's about as solidly against cheating as I am. Something's going on with her, and I intend to find out just what the hell it is. She can pretend she's happy for every camera and webpage out there following her life, but I’m her longest friend. Her best friend.
“Fuck this,” I growl, standing and wiping my jeans off. Ginnie looks at me, bouncing around my feet. “She wouldn't have done that if she was happy,” I say again, firm in my resolution.
I storm inside the house, ignoring the shower water that's still running in her bathroom. The handle's unlocked, so I push my way in, about to give her a piece of my mind.
“Listen,” I blurt, stopping in my tracks when I see her standing outside of the tub. Her scream’s loud enough I flinch. “Fuck!” The air's completely been knocked out of me.
She's turning off the water, her bare back to me, and all I see is red. And purple. And black and blue. All over her motherfucking back. Her panicked eyes hit mine and she swipes the towel off the counter, trying to cover herself.
“Beany?” I whisper, a sudden pain shooting straight through me. “What the hell?” My heart's beating out of my chest. My eyes are about to bug out of my head. There's a knot in my throat and I don't fucking cry. But...my girl. ”Who did this to you?” My knees are weak so I fall back against the wall.
She's not saying anything. My eyes search her face for the girl that I love, but all I see is more bruises that weren’t there when she showed up. More scars. More...pain.
“What are you doing?” she shouts at me before breaking down in tears. “Get the fuck out!” She gestures to the door.
“Get the fu—” I let out a harsh laugh. “What the fuck, Affton? Why the hell are you covered in bruises!?” She flinches at my tone and I growl. “Affton... Beany, why?” I take one step closer to her and want nothing more than to wrap my arms around her but her stance says don’t even try it.
Now I know why she moaned earlier when I hugged her. Because I fucking hurt her.
“Get out, Tommy!” she screams through sobs, trying to wrap the towel around herself in an attempt to hide what I've already seen.
“No.” I slam the door closed, leaning back against it because I feel like I could crumble for my girl right now. “Not until you tell me why you're covered in bruises.”
She angrily swipes at the tears rolling down her cheeks. “When we were kids and you pulled this shit, I would laugh it off. But now, it's...not right! You can't barge in here while I'm naked! What the fuck's wrong with you!” she shrieks loud enough I wince because my ears ring.
“I don't care if it's cute. I don't care if it's repulsive. What I care about is why most of your goddamn body is covered in bruises. From the looks of it, all in different motherfucking stages of healing, Affton!” I've never felt so much rage. Not until right now.
“I was in an accident. Is that what you want to hear?” She tries to push me out of the way of the door and I let her, because I'm not about to add to the painting of color on that beautiful fucking body.
She shoves her way to the bedroom and slams the door. I let out a growl, thrusting my fist into the doorframe. The pain doesn't help anything.
With heavy feet I storm to the kitchen, slamming the cabinet doors while making myself a drink. I fucking need a drink. Because my Beany's not the girl I made her out to be. I don't fucking know who this girl is anymore. Married without telling us? In a motherfucking accident that left her that bruised and battered without telling us? Hell, she's probably got three or four kids by now too! Who the fuck knows who this girl is anymore?!
I finish my drink and stare into my empty glass.
“Shit,” I huff, hanging my head.
If I’m her supposed longest, best friend I wouldn't be out here pissed that she didn't tell me. I'd be in there, like a friend-zoned motherfucking pussy trying to make sure she's okay. Shaking my head, I walk back to her closed door and knock gently.
“Affton?”
I hear the sniffles before her clearing her throat. “What?” she calls through the closed door.
“Can I come in?” I rest my head on the door, my hand on the handle just waiting for the invite.
It's a few minutes before she quietly replies, “Yes.”
The door slowly opens and I see her sitting at the small desk, trying to reapply her makeup that hides the bruising and marks. Explains a lot. My stomach drops watching her trembling hand as she tries to smear over one of the darker bruises.
“Affton, stop,” I say, my stomach rolling. “I've already seen them.” I walk over to her and sit on the side of the bed.
With a huff, she sets her makeup wand down and picks up her phone, quickly pounding out a text.
“I didn’t want you to see any of this,” she whispers.
“Why not?” I rest my elbows on my knees and lean forward, looking at her as she stares at her phone screen.
Her face scrunches at whatever she just texted and she quickly types out another response. “Because it's unbecoming. I look like hell. No one would want anyone to see them like this.” She looks up at me and her eyes are glistening with tears.
I shift forward, our knees almost touching. “It's me, Beany. I've seen every part of you. I don’t like that my longest, closest friend thinks she needs to hide something like this from me. It makes me sick. Why didn't you call after the accident?”
A breathy laugh escapes her while she looks upward and wipes at her cheeks. “I don't know, Tommy.” Her head shakes but she keeps it dropped back.
When her phone chimes again, she quickly grabs it and is immediately texting again before her face scrunches while she tries to fight back a sob. When it starts to escape, she sets her phone down and pushes herself into my arms, bursting into tears. I squeeze my eyes closed, trying not to let the tears escape.
“It's fine, Affton. It'll be fine.” I smooth down her wet hair, holding her as tight as I can without hurting her.
When her phone screen lights up, the texts that she's been so intent on replying to so quickly are already open and I see who she's been texting. My eyes scan the screen that she doesn't know is waiting for her to read and suddenly everything makes perfect fucking sense.
And I'm ready to murder someone.
“Affton,” I whisper, my body shaking as I reach for the phone and pull out of her grasp. “What. The. Fuck?” I hold the screen, the words and images on it blaringly obvious.
Corey: Remember this day? I fucking do. You looked like shit while you snored on my bloody pillow. Just remember, I can always make it ten times worse.
My trembling hand holds the phone, my eyes staring at the picture he sent. This motherfucker did this to her. I fucking knew it wasn't from an accident! Fuck!
She reaches for the phone but I pull it back. “Please!” she howls and my eyes go wide. “Please give me the phone! I have to text him back!” She's trying to fight the thing out of my hand.
I stand, taking the phone with me and shoving it into my pocket. She's not fucking getting this thing back. She's not leaving this house again! She...she can't go back to him!
“Affton! You can't talk to that man! He... He fucking did this to you!” I whimper out the words, pacing the bedroom. My hands run through my hair and I feel her phone vibrate in my pocket again but I don't have the stomach to open it. “How long? He's the husband, right? How long, Affton?” I’m trying not to be mad at her, but who the fuck in their right mind stays with someone that does this to them!
She grabs my hips and drops to her knees before her hands clasp and she begs, “Please give me my phone! I have to respond!”
“No you don't!” I bellow, letting the tears slip down my face. “You don't! You don't owe him anything but a shotgun shell to the motherfucking face!” I drop to the floor in front of her and take her hands in mine. “Beany,” I whisper, searching her eyes. He took whatever fight my girl had and he completely crushed her.
Yanking her hands from mine, she scrambles to her feet and frantically slips on the heels she showed up in, but she's in pajama pants.
“I have to find a phone,” she pants, running in circles, looking for something before grabbing her keys. “I need a phone,” she keeps repeating and runs for the door.
“Stop!” I run after her. “Fuck, just stop. Fine,” I mutter, defeated. “Take it. Just...please don't leave.” I slowly feel my soul crushing as I pull her ringing phone out of my pocket.
She pushes her hand to my lips and quickly answers, holding it to her ear. “I'm sorry, I was in the elevator,” she blurts. “I'm not ignoring you.” I can feel her hand tremble on my lips. “I promise you I'm alone.” I roll my eyes and take a step back, shoving my hands in my pockets.
Corey. Motherfucking Corey. I'm going to murder you, Corey. You fucking wait.
“No, Corey, I'm alone.” She's shaking while on the phone with her husband! She's terrified of a fucking phone call! “I love you, I would never ignore you.” You don't love him. You love me. You're scared to death of him. Holy fuck, what did he do to you? ”Yes, I'll be leaving tomorrow afternoon. We'll stay on the phone my entire drive.” The fake laugh that comes out of her, loud, obnoxious, and unbelievable shatters me. She's fucking perfected this. “I love you. Sleep well.”
She ends the call and won't look at me.
“You're not leaving,” I growl. “Not tomorrow. Not the next day. Not ever, Affton. You're not going back to him.”
“Tommy, please.” She sighs and closes her eyes. “You don't understand.”
“Enlighten me. Because right now the girl I—” I stop and let out a laugh. A loud one, because I have no right to anything right now but I'm acting like she owes me the world. “You know what? You're not allowed to walk in here and defend a guy that will do this to you. I don't care how nice he is to you when he's happy. If he can do this to you, what else can he do? Huh? Has he ever broken any bones? He will, if he hasn't. Stitches yet, Affton? Or does he treat you at home so you don’t have to be seen at the hospital time and time again?” My heart's fucking racing and I want to vomit. She's not going to stand here and defend that!
“I'm sorry,” she blurts and I'm shocked when she shoves herself against my chest and wraps her arms tight. “Please don't be angry at me.” Holy shit...she's treating me how she probably treats him so he won't hit her. “I'm so sorry. Don't be angry.”
I let out a sob, because she's fucking brainwashed!
“Affton, baby.” Fuck. “I'm not mad at you. I just don't get it. Help me understand, please.” I wipe at my face. “What did he do to you?” It comes out a whimper before I choke back another sob.
“I don't know,” she cries and backs away, covering her face. “I don't understand it myself!” Dropping her hands she looks me dead in the eyes. “Please don't hate me.”
“Beany, I could never hate you.” I cup her face. The bruises across her jaw make me clench mine. I hate Corey. I hate the life she's been living, probably for all five goddamned years. But I could never hate her. “Stop treating me like I'm mad at you, Affton. I'm not mad at you.” I shake my head. “You need to start from the beginning, Bean. I need to know everything.”
I don't want to know everything. I want to get her address, knock on that fuckers front door, then shove a knife in his dick before shooting his fucking brains out.
“Tommy,” she says my name in panic. “You can't tell anyone. You can't tell my brother. If you ever, ever cared about me, you...can't. Please, you don't understand.”
My eyes go wide. I can't tell anyone? I...
“Beany, you're not going back to him. We're getting you checked out to make sure that asshole didn't do worse damage, then you're going to stay here until we...you…whoever can figure this shit out.”
“Do you have alcohol? Wine? I need a drink and we'll talk.” She blinks her gaze away from me and the look on her face is humiliation.
I push to my feet and hold my hand out to help her up. “I don't have wine but there's shit in there you used to like.” Not sure if she'll still like it. Seems too much has changed to even consider this is the same girl from my past.
As she follows me to the kitchen, her phone starts to ring but it sounds like a video call this time and she whimpers. “I'm sorry, Tommy,” she says before rushing back to her room and closing the door.
I stare at the closed door, my fists clenched tight, for what feels like a lifetime before heading to the kitchen. I grab two glasses, tossing ice in each, then pour her favorite whiskey in both. And then I wait. Gripping the sides of the countertop, I hang my head and try to figure out the next steps. She has to press charges. She can't let him get away with this. Her dad'll fight this until the end, I know he will. And with everyone here in this town she'll be safe from him.
After a half hour and still nothing from her, I head out back and fall into a chair on my patio. Ginnie's doing flips in the middle of the yard, chasing after a bug or something. This is the life she could be living. Happy and with me.
Not beaten and broken down.
If she’s so hell-bent on being in a relationship, it should be with me. I can treat her how she deserves to be treated. I just don’t understand how she got herself into this situation.
I hear the door open but I don't bother to look. She'll talk when she's ready. But she doesn't say anything. Her arms wrap over my chair and around my shoulders while her head rests on top of mine.
“I'm so sorry. And I mean it,” she whispers.
“Please stop apologizing to me.” I clear my throat, bringing my glass to my lips. “You see your drink on the counter?”
“Thanks,” she mumbles and heads back inside. I almost expect her to go back to her room, but she heads back out and sits in the empty chair next to me before she starts to giggle. It's the first real sound I've heard from her since she's been here. “Is that Ginnie?” she asks in excitement.
“Yeah.” I try to smile but I can't. How can she switch gears so quickly? Like this isn't rocking her world.
Well, I mean it probably isn't rocking her world. This is her world. She's...fuck, she's used to it.
“She's so freaking cute.” She smiles over at me but quickly looks away, probably noticing I'm not smiling along with her.
“She's pretty awesome.” I finish my drink and wish I had another. I watch her stare at Ginnie with a soft smile on her face, but the tiny line between her eyebrows is tight like she's deep in thought. “How's your husband?” I ask, trying not to sound too pissy but it's hard when bringing this topic up. I'm not backing down though. I need to know what and why she goes through this bullshit.
“Tommy, don't,” she mutters. “What the hell were you thinking walking into the bathroom like that? Did you think when I said no small talk that I really meant please burst into the bathroom on me? How can you be such a dick that you automatically assumed I came here to have sex with you? I know what we did through text, and I'm sorry I...led you on. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you I'm married. But I am.”
I snicker. “Me? You're mad that what? I saw the truth of your perfect happy fucking life?” My teeth scrape over my bottom lip and I'm trying my hardest not to scream at her. “I don't get it, Affton! Why do you let him do this to you?! Can't you see how fucking horrible this is?!” I'm not going to entertain her attempt to take the focus off the real issue here. Who the fuck cares that she's married? Not me. Not anymore. She'll be a widow soon enough if I can get my fucking hands on him.
“Please stop yelling at me,” she murmurs and her eyes drop to her drink.
I hate that she's so easily complacent. Like she'd say anything right now just to make me not so angry. But that's not how this works.
“No. I won't. Not until you give me a reason to shut up and listen. This is outrageous, Affton. That you're sitting here worried that I'm mad instead of being pissed that he's done this to you! How many times? Huh? This isn't the first, is it?” I clench my fists around my glass. Goddammit.
“I said stop screaming at me!” she shouts before gasping and setting her drink down to cover her face. “I'm sorry. Please stop screaming at me. Please!” Looking at me, she's crying again and I can see her entire body's shaking.
“I'm sorry,” I manage through a thick throat. “I need to understand. Beany, please help me understand,” I plead. I don't think I'll ever fully understand. I know I'll never accept it. But maybe if I can figure out her reasoning I’ll understand her mindset.
“He's not a bad man.” Her eyes go wide and drop to the ground as she covers her mouth. “Jesus,” she whispers and her head starts to nod as her tears fall heavier. “Yes he is. But he's not always like this. Fuck, Tommy. What do you want me to say? I fucked up. That's all there is to it. I fucked up.” She looks at me again and the bruising across her jaw looks like a shadow, but it's not. It's marks he put on her fucking body.
“You didn't fuck up, Affton. He fucking did. But why the hell are you still with him? Why didn't you stab him in the face the first time he put his hands on you?”
She's blaming herself! For what he's done to her!
She snickers and shakes her head. “You asked me the same exact question about my dad once. Remember that?” She glances at me before taking a gulp of her drink. “He was being completely unreasonable and his threats were insane. I...I don't remember what it was about but you asked me why I didn't just punch him in the face.” A sad smile lifts her lips while she tries to explain to me she puts up with this shit 'cause she was conditioned to since she was born. But her dad never fucking hit her.
“Two totally different scenarios, Affton, and you know it,” I almost growl out. “Answer me this. It's a simple yes or no answer.” I wait until she catches my gaze. Her eyes are hollow. Sad. “Was this the first time he's done this to you?”
A shaky breath exhales and she drops her head. After a few minutes, she huffs and gets to her feet, finishing her drink. She's not going to fucking walk away without answering me. When she moves, I almost snatch her wrist, but she doesn't walk past me, she sits on the deck at my feet and lays her head against my knee.
“I never wanted to marry him. I didn't even want to get into a monogamous relationship. Suddenly my job was riding on being committed to him. And don't fucking bash my job, Tommy. You know I've wanted this my entire life. And then two years later I was unexpectedly pregnant and getting married was the right thing to do, I guess.” Her head lifts so she can look at me. “I miscarried, by the way.”
“I know,” I whisper, pain filling my chest for her but happy she's finally talking. I push her hair behind her ear. “I'd say I’m sorry, but I'll be the dick and say thank god that baby wasn't born into whatever hell you're living in.”
Her head rests on my knee again. “It wasn't long after that that we had been drinking and got into an argument one night. He hit me then cried all night. Fucking bawled over it so I believed he didn't mean to hurt me.” She sighs and rubs her eyes. “It didn't happen again for a long time. The second time, I just wanted the incident to be erased. If I leave him, I lose my job, and by the second time, it was almost worth it, but I believed him when he said he wouldn't do it again. The third and fourth time were delivered with death threats and it was too late to get out. He doesn't hit me all the time, but it's just easier if I comply. I'm staying with him. I don't have a choice. You can think what you want about me, but please don't hate me.”
“You don't have a choice?” I mutter the words, feeling my blood start to boil. “You always have a choice, Affton. Always.”
“I'm so fucking glad you understand what I'm going through, Tommy.” She gets up. “Thanks for understanding for me. Thanks for not giving a fuck if I live or die, because I know what my choices are.” She tries to walk away but before she gets to the door my hand is around her wrist lightly. I refuse to let her walk away right now.
“I get you're pissed that I'm not telling you you're doing the right thing, but, Affton, you've got to understand where I’m coming from. In a world where beating your wife is a horrible, god awful thing that puts people in jail, how can you expect me to accept and understand what you're going through?” I look down where my hand's around her wrist. Touching her used to feel a whole hell of a lot better than this. “He's beating my girl, Beanie. My fucking girl.”
“I'm not your girl,” she whispers. “And you don't have to understand, but you do have to understand I didn't come here for this. I didn't come here to answer to you. I'm fucking sorry and I'm only saying it because for the first time in a long time, I mean those words. I'm sorry I'm not living up to your expectations.”
A punch to the gut would have felt better right about now. I shake my head, dropping her hand.
“That's what you think I'm so worked up over? That your life didn't turn out how I thought it should?” I let out a harsh laugh and start to walk away. I've yelled at her enough tonight. Yelling doesn't work. She's got fifteen years of shit she's been through without me. Who am I to think me barging in on her life is going to change anything? “Beany, I don't know what to do to help you. All I know is you can't go back to that.” I wave at the bruising on her face and the others I know her clothes are hiding. “The first time was just once? A slap? Now he's got you layering on makeup so you probably can't even move your face naturally. Six months from now what's it going to be?” I feel defeated. Weak and defeated. But I can't stop fighting to make her see she's got other options. “I’m not going to say move back here because I know you hate everything about this place. But you're not going back there.”
Turning to face me, she holds her chin high. “Do you really want to know how you can help me? The only way to help me is to forget you found out. Leave me alone. Let me walk out of here the same memory you had of me before I showed up. What you’re saying, I'm not going home, you're playing with fire and the only person that will get burned is me. Please, don’t do that to me.”
I clench my fists and square my jaw. She's gone motherfucking mental if she thinks I'm going to let her walk away. ”That's not happening, Affton. I can't forget what I saw. I can't forget any of this.”
“Do you want me afraid of you too?” she asks quietly, but it's not her being shitty, she's really asking me that and I cringe. “Is that what you want? Because your threats, they hurt as bad as his if not worse because I...you're you.”
What the fuck does that mean?
“Beany, no,” I whisper, panicked that she's actually afraid of me. “No, that's not...no. They're not threats, Affton.” I search her eyes for some trace of anything other than fear but I can't find it. “You deserve so much more than the life you're living, Bean.”
“I did.” She nods once in agreement. “But I'm not sure anymore. I have some happiness in my life, Tommy. I love my job. It's in the field I dreamed about as a little girl. And because of that...I guess I can just accept nothing else in my life is a fairy tale.” She won't even look me in the damn eyes because she knows, deep down, how much of a crock of shit that is.
“Remember when you said you were going to have it all?” I whisper, stepping closer to her, praying she doesn't back away. “Not all like the husband and kids all. But all like the money, fame, power in the industry? You did that, Affton. You fucking made it. And I watched you rise to the top with so much pride.” I push a strand of hair behind her ear then watch my fingers lightly trail down her bruised jawline. “Whatever it took to get there... Was it worth it? Is it truly worth it?”
She bites her lip and drops her head. “Does it matter anymore?”
Bringing her chin up, forcing her to look at me, I search her eyes. Her blackened eyes, from a man that probably doesn't know a third of the shit this amazing woman in front of me does.
“It always matters, Beany. You. You always matter.” My eyes flick to her lips and my stomach drops. I'm about to do something I've been against my entire goddamned life, but this is a special instance. This is my Affton. I move to press my lips to hers, slowly, praying she kisses me back. If she kisses me back, I can be here for her. It'll be my stupid fucking sliver of hope that she knows she needs out. And that she knows she needs…me.
If she doesn't... Fuck, I don't even know.
My mouth pushes against hers so gently, barely brushing against her soft, full lips. She makes a noise but doesn't pull back. She doesn't push forward either, she holds her spot. I sigh and press my forehead to hers, breaking the kiss.
“It's time for bed,” I whisper, my chest aching.
“I'm sorry I showed up here, Tommy. I'm sorry I did this to you.”
“Please don't.” I take a step back. I love this woman. I've loved her my entire fucking life. I can't give up on her now. Not when she needs me the most. “I wish you would have trusted me long ago, Affton. I wish I could have been there for you.”
“If I never left...” She lets out a tired chuckle and her hand lifts to my shoulder.
“You could be livin' with a sweet ass goat,” I say, trying to lighten her mood. Mine, on the other hand, has permanently been damaged and not even a whole flock of cute ass goats could fix it.
“Yes.” She laughs and drops her forehead to my shoulder. “An adorable goat.” Standing upright, she opens the backdoor. “We never belonged together and you know it. You wouldn't have let me leave back then if we had.” She heads for the sink and immediately starts to wash her glass.
I lean against the doorframe, watching her and hating that she thinks she needs to do this right now.
“You were dead set on going. I wasn't about to stop you from livin' your dream, Beany.” I cross my arms and watch her pause, the water running over her hands is billowing steam. I walk across the kitchen, reaching around her and turning the water off slowly, taking the glass out of her hand before she drops it.
“You wanted me to stay in this town until I was thirty-five?” she asks the sink because she won't lift her head and face me. “You wanted me to stick around all those years while you ran around town screwing everyone you could, including me?”
“You were also dead set on staying single forever,” I manage to whisper. “I wasn't about to step in the way of your happy ending. But you should know you didn't have to leave to find it.”
Her head drops completely and her shaking hands wring together. “I didn't leave for a happy ending. I left to give myself a better life than I financially could have obtained here.”
And that's where it all lies. Money. She's been about it since day one, so I'm not sure what I thought may have changed.
“Well, you did just that, didn't you?” I step back, having to force myself away from her. “Bet it feels good to not have to worry about any of those bills now.”
“I'm tired, Tommy,” she whispers, drying her hands on the towel next to the sink.
“Yeah.” I watch her robotic movements. Like she's afraid of making a wrong move. I head toward my bedroom, stopping before I get to my door. “Night, Beany.”
“Night,” she mumbles walking into the bedroom.
I watch the door start to close and let out a heavy sigh then turn and walk toward it. Pushing it open, I stand there, watching her with her hand already full of her shit that she's shoving into her bag.
“Let's go,” I blurt, my eyes flying from the packing she's doing, probably waiting for me to pass out so she can leave, back to her eyes.
“Let's go?” she asks and spins to face me. “Go where?”
“My bed. Come on, now. I don't have all night. And don't get those panties in a bunch.” I smirk at her. “I lost my favorite cuddle partner fifteen years ago. If I only have one night with her here, I'm making the best of it.”
Her fingers spin her ring. “I'm m-married,” she stutters because she knows it means shit right about now.
“I'm not asking for sex, Affton. I'm not even asking for you to take your pants off, though I wouldn't stop you at this point.” I smirk at her, trying to get us back to being able to talk to each other without wanting to scream. “I just need you in my bed tonight. I need to know you're safe.”
“If you're doing this because you're worried I'll leave, I promise I won't leave tonight. You don't have to...” She looks toward my feet.
“I don't do anything I don’t want to, Bean. Well, other than that one time with Grant and the plane...” I trail off, smirking at her. “This isn't up for debate. I need you to follow me. I need you to get in my bed. And I want you to accept all the snuggles I have for tonight.”
She sets the items in her hand down and heads toward me. “I'm only coming in hopes you'll tell me about the one time with Grant and the plane.” She giggles.
“Oh yeah, no. That's not happening.” I laugh, wrapping my arm around her shoulder as we go. “But I can say, the guy's got mad skills.”
“Tommy!” she shrieks and bursts into laughter, shoving me. “You fucking tell me! In explicit detail!”
I stretch out on my bed, pulling the covers back for her. “Come on then. Climb in for story time.” I smile at her, knowing the minute I start telling the story she's going to be asleep. She never could resist passing out during cuddle time.
The smile on her face shows the happy girl I remember from years ago but before she gets into my bed, she freezes and her smile falls. She stares at her hand until she pulls off her wedding rings then sets them on the nightstand next to her cellphone.
I’m not even sure where we stand right now. All I know is she's safe tonight.
I just have to figure out how to get her to understand it and keep her safe for the rest of her life.