THE DARK FORM ON the couch didn’t stir when I tiptoed in. Holding my belt, my bag and keys, I made it almost to the stairs.
“How bad?” he asked, a horrible scratch to his voice like he’d been yelling for hours.
“It’s nothing, go back to sleep.” My foot hit the first step.
He was always quicker than me, quicker and quieter than air. His arms went around my waist and his alcoholic breath washed over my face.
“How bad are you hurt?” Moisture from his eyes slid across my neck.
“I’m fine, Marcus.” His grip hurt every bone in my body.
“Jesus, Sia, don’t do this to me. I don’t remember everything, but I remember some. You promised, you promised me,” he agonized.
“Stop it.” I couldn’t take him like this, all broken and hurting. It was a hundred times worse than his anger or the marks I carried from last night.
“You said you would stop me, damn it. You’re strong enough, you can take me down, especially when I’m drinking. You know it’s why I drink, you know that. Why did you take it? You could’ve stopped me!” His pleas turned into accusations.
He was wrong. I couldn’t stop him. I wasn’t strong enough. I hadn’t been since he’d come back from Afghanistan the second time. “Let it go.” I shoved him away.
He dropped his arms. “You should’ve let it go. You should’ve let me take the whole damn bottle!”
I knew he was hurting. God, I knew he was. But we both knew he didn’t want to die. He never tried anything when he was sober. “Take a shower, Marcus.”
He shoved the back of my Gi up before I could stop him. “Look what I did to you,” he bellowed in agony.
“I’m fine,” I bit out, yanking the heavy cotton down. I didn’t even know which one of us I was angry at anymore. “Pick up the living room.” The remnants of his latest episode lay around in broken pieces of glass and splintered wood from the coffee table we used to have. “Then shower and hit the gym before it’s too late. You need a workout.” I hurried up the stairs.
“Sia,” he cried.
Ignoring him, I rushed to my bedroom, locked the door and sank to the floor. I knew I was living on borrowed time. Last night had been the worst I’d ever seen him. He was spiraling, and nothing I did was helping.
I didn’t want to think about Marcus, or the awful words I’d said to Ben, or the way he’d looked like I’d kicked him in the chest. I didn’t want to think about anything except getting through the next few hours at work. It was selfish and probably not the right thing to do, but I was so damn tired, I didn’t have the energy for any right choices anymore.
I gingerly showered and dressed for work, choosing an outfit that hid everything—skinny jeans and a long-sleeved blouse. I could get away with it because it wasn’t summer yet. Thoughts of the warm months used to fill me with joy. Swimming in the lake, fireflies at night, hanging out with Ben and Marcus on the back porch, but that was all distant memories now.
Shaking off my mood, I applied makeup and listened until the noises in the kitchen downstairs stopped. A few minutes later, the front door opened and closed and I breathed a sigh of relief. I picked up my cell and sent a quick text to Marcus.
Three-hour workout minimum. Spar with Hank if he’s there.
A second later, he replied.
Got it
Then a few seconds later, he sent another text.
I’m sorry. I love you, Sia
A tear slid down my cheek as I typed a response.
Please, take your antidepressants.
I knew my request would upset him. I was about to tuck my phone away because I didn’t want to fight with him, when he replied.
I haven’t missed a dose in two weeks
I read it twice. Then I held my phone to my chest and burst into tears. What the hell were we going to do? If last night was him with the medicine, I couldn’t even imagine what he would be like without it. Despair, thick and choking, took over my lungs, and I fought for breath. It’d been over a year since she died, but right this minute, I missed my mother more than ever. Her arms around me, her strength, her wisdom. Oh God, what was I supposed to do now?
Brushing the tears away, I washed my face then reapplied makeup. I asked myself what could I do? I had to go to work. I palmed my keys and locked up the house. When I turned toward my car, my stomach tightened at the sight of the shiny blue Mustang.
After the first time Marcus had taken his aggression out on me, he’d woken the next morning and, unbeknownst to me, gone straight to the dealership. I’d gotten a strange phone call a half hour later where he’d asked me my favorite color. Reeling from the night before, I hadn’t put two and two together, and I’d said blue. A few hours later, he came home with the new blue Mustang and gave it to me.
Opening the door, I slid behind the wheel and winced. Every movement was taking a toll, and I cursed myself for forgetting to take some Advil.
Thirty minutes later, I was counting out my cash register and putting the drawer in when I felt movement behind me.
“Elyssia.”
I stiffened, then turned around. Fitted T-shirt under an open button-down, jeans and boots, Ben stood next to me freshly showered. If you saw him on the street, you’d never know he was a fourth dan black belt or that he played drums in a rock band that booked sold-out shows. He almost looked like a college student.
I forced my voice to stay casual. “I didn’t know you were playing tonight.”
“We’re not.” He studied my face as if he were looking for evidence of our earlier fight. “I came for you.”
I averted my gaze and straightened some papers next to the register. “You didn’t need to do that. I’m fine.”
A warm, strong hand curled around my fingers. “I spoke with Neil. You have the next week off. I’m taking you home.”
My head snapped up, and I snatched my hand back. “I….” Shit! “You can’t do that.” Neil, along with Ben’s bandmate Myles, was the owner of the club, and when Neil was around, he was the scariest boss in the history of bosses. “I need this shift, and I need the money.” I couldn’t afford a week with no pay. I was a damn cashier at a nightclub. I hardly made enough as it was, and teaching karate to the young kids at the studio barely covered the cost of gas to get to the class.
“It’s taken care of.”
Was he crazy? “No, it’s not.” Panic pitched my voice up to a squeak, and I was freaking out that he’d said something to Neil in the first place, let alone the fact that he was here. “I… I get paid hourly,” I stammered, before the reality of what he’d done set in. “How could you tell Neil?”
His eyes zeroed in on mine. “I didn’t tell him anything.” His voice dropped. “No one knows.”
A dangerous calm I hadn’t felt in forever pushed at the edges of my panic, but I still protested. “You can’t do this.”
“You’ll get paid your normal amount. Get your purse, Elyssia.” Quiet, but completely dominant, his tone left no room for argument.
Hurting, stunned, I turned and grabbed my purse from under the counter so he couldn’t see the tears welling in my eyes. But before I could face him again, Ben’s hand settled on my lower back and his minty breath hit the curve of my neck.
His voice brushed past my ear like a caress. “Are you okay to walk?”
God, I didn’t want to feel relieved he was here. I didn’t want to place any hope in him or his presence, but I was hurting, and for once, I just selfishly wanted to let someone else carry the burden of what my life had become. “I’m fine.” It was only half a lie. I could walk, but nothing, nothing felt fine.
His hand left my back and his fingers curled around my upper arm as he helped me stand. “We’ll talk about you lying to me later.”
I didn’t have time to protest. He was already issuing another command.
“You’re leaving your car here.” He let go of my arm only to move his palm to the small of my back again, to one of the few places where I wasn’t bruised.
My head a mess, I didn’t protest as he guided me out of the club and past the two bartenders, the other cashier, and Hank, the manager, who all silently watched us leave.
Without a word, Ben led me to his Jeep and held my hand as I stepped on the running board and got in the passenger seat. He crossed the front of the vehicle and got behind the wheel like this wasn’t the tensest, most awkward silence we’d ever had.
He started the engine. “Have you eaten dinner?”
“I’m not hungry.” I was so overwhelmed, I didn’t think I could force down food if you held a gun to my head.
“Not what I asked, Elyssia.”
The slight edge to his voice wasn’t one I’d heard before. “I ate earlier today.”
“But not dinner?”
I didn’t know why he was pushing the issue. “No.”
“We’ll pick up some food before we go home. Can you still eat at Bobby’s?”
Ben knew I had food allergies. He was always considerate, and not just of me, it was who he was. I tried to stop myself from reading into the fact that he’d remembered. He’d known me for eight years. He knew I didn’t eat out often. That was all this was. “You don’t need to get me anything.”
“We both need to eat. Bobby’s?”
I sighed.
“Elyssia?”
“Fine.” I loved the way he said my name. I’d loved it since he’d first said it. But sitting in his Jeep, driving to get takeout from an expensive steak restaurant as he called in an order after kidnapping me from work, it wasn’t surreal, it was incomprehensible.
I kept my mouth shut, and Ben seemed inclined to do the same, until he pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant.
He put the Jeep in park and looked at me. “I want to ask you one question.”
I should’ve known this was never about him simply taking me home. I looked down at my hands in my lap. “What?”
“Does Marcus know what happened?”
I turned toward the window.
Ben grasped my chin and brought my face back to his. “Does he?” he demanded.
I bit my lip. “Don’t do this.”
The hard creases in his forehead disappeared and his voice softened. “He’s your brother. He should know.”
“Please, don’t say anything to him,” I begged. “He doesn’t need to deal with this right now.”
Ben dropped his hand, leaned back in his seat, and stared out the windshield. His huge hands rested on his thighs for a second, then they fisted. “I’m not making any promises, but for now, I won’t say anything.” He turned to look at me. “To anyone.”
I breathed out. “Thank—”
“On one condition.”
I swallowed.
“Tell me who did this.”
It was instinctual. I pushed open the door, jumped out and ran.
My body screaming, my lungs on fire, I made it three strides. Arms closed in around my waist, my feet left the ground and my body swung so fast I couldn’t get purchase for a defensive strike, but it didn’t matter. Everything I’d ever been taught flew out of my head, and suddenly I was reliving last night. Marcus’s blind rage pouring out of his crazed mind, his fists flying, his face contorted—I pulled my arms and legs in. A keening voice filled my ears as the memory of blow after blow hitting my body replayed like it was in real time.
“No. No, no, no.” Make it stop. Please, God. No, I couldn’t do this again.
“Elyssia.”
Hot wetness dripped down my face. “Please, please.” My throat burned. No air filled my lungs, and I couldn’t breathe through the fear.
“Elyssia!”
“St-stop.” Shaking. Everything was shaking. “Pl-please.” Pain. So much pain.
My feet touched the ground, and I was turned as huge hands gripped my face. “Look at me.”
Blue eyes swam into focus.
“You’re safe.”
Blue eyes, not brown. A shudder wracked through my limbs as I barely held myself up.
“I am not going to hurt you.”
Hurt. So much hurt. “Ben.” I choked on a sob, then dissolved into tears.
Warm, strong arms wrapped around me. “Shh, I’m right here. You’re safe. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” Words of comfort poured out of Ben like rage poured out of Marcus. “Shh, you’re okay. I got you.”
I wasn’t okay. No one had me. Just like Ben, I was an island, but Marcus was my sea, and I was surrounded.
Despair hit harder than Marcus’s fists, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe. Short, too-little-oxygen breaths made me dizzy, and I felt myself slipping.
“You are not passing out on me,” Ben barked. “You hear me, Elyssia?”
I prayed for oblivion as blackness crept into the corners of my mind.
“Goddamn it!”
My head fell back and I reached for the darkness.