The snow had started to fall as I dropped my car off to the valet and headed into the hotel. It was almost five and I had been on the go since six this morning. I was tired and hungry, and I just wanted to lounge in front of the TV. I had typed up my resignation and had saved it on my laptop last night before I went to bed. I didn't know how much more of this I could take. I was exhausted and thought about emailing Keller before I left today. Pulling my laptop behind me through the lobby, I stopped at the front desk to place an order for room service. All I wanted was hot tea and chicken soup.
Once I opened the door to my room and turned on the lights, I kicked my shoes off and let my aching feet dig into the thick carpet. I left my bag by the desk and sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to relax. I turned the TV on and headed into the bathroom and started the shower.
Once undressed, I climbed in and let the hot water run over my body; my muscles ached. I stood in the shower and placed my hands on my abdomen, still not believing what those tests had read on Friday night. I had made an appointment with a doctor for next week, once I was back home. I was trying hard not to worry about it until I had confirmation from the doctor, but it wasn't working. Part of me was still worried about what Parker would say when I told him.
Wrapping myself in the plush bathrobe, I glanced at myself in the mirror. Dark circles under my eyes told me I needed way more rest than what I had been getting. I ran a brush through my wet hair and headed back out into the room, noting that room service must have come when I was in the shower because my soup was on the table when I came out.
After I ate, I sat back with my tea and checked my phone for any messages for the first time today. I had worked until almost one in the morning, and I had just enough energy to get to work, never mind bother with anything else.
I had twenty missed calls and three voice mails. Frowning, I searched through the missed calls—a bunch from Parker, one from my brother, and three from Jen. I typed my code in and listened to the first message.
My pulse raced at the sound of Parker's voice. I missed him so much, and then the panic set in. Dean had been released and was on his way back here. He didn't think I would have anything to worry about, but I knew better. If he was out, and he knew I was back here, I would be paid a visit. I hadn't wanted to believe what Elliott had said on the phone the other night, but I knew he was right. It wasn't as if Dean had just become this controlling. He had always been this way; he'd just gotten worse over time. Elliott was right. For all I knew, he was here now, waiting and biding his time before he came to visit.
Getting up and getting dressed, I gathered my stuff from around the room, throwing it into my bag. I had to get out of here, and Jen was the closest. Parker wouldn't be here until at least eight tonight, and that was if he was on time. I couldn't risk waiting. I called Jen as I ran around grabbing more of my things.
"Hey, Tatum! I was going to call you. The guys are on their way here."
"Jen, Dean is on his way back to the city." I started to cry. "I have to get out of here."
"Tatum, calm down."
"No, you don't understand, I can't calm down. If he knows where I am, he will come here."
"Okay, I'm coming to get you."
"There isn't time. I will be there in twenty minutes."
"Okay, I'll be waiting. I’ll call Elliott and Parker and let them know to come here. If anything goes wrong, call me."
I was having a hard time catching my breath as I stuffed the last few things I would need into my bag and snapped it shut.
"And, Tatum, calm down before you get in the car and drive please."
"See you soon." I hung up the phone and grabbed my charger out of the wall and threw it along with my phone into my purse.
I shut off the TV, threw my shoes on, and grabbed my purse and bag and pulled the door open. Taking a step around the corner, I felt myself being roughly pushed back into the room, a chest in my face.
"Well, here you are. You all alone? Or is he here?" Dean asked, looking around the room before shutting the door behind him and locking the deadbolt.
I stepped back away from him. "I'm alone. What do you want?"
He glanced to the bags in my hand. "Are you going somewhere?"
I shook my head, trying to remain calm.
"Cause it certainly looks like you were planning on leaving in a hurry. We need to have a little talk." He took a couple of steps, closing the distance between us. "Seems to me, not too long ago, you accused me of cheating on you. Now I hear you are fucking that cop. What’s that all about, Tatum?"
I studied him, noticing the vein protruding in his neck. "No." I swallowed hard. "I'm not sleeping with anyone," I lied, dropping my bags to the floor.
"I'm going to give you another chance. You know how I feel about liars. So, are you sure about that?" He squinted, taking me in.
I was paralyzed with fear, unable to answer him.
"Well?" He took a quick step forward and wrapped his fist around my throat, cracking my head into the wall as he threw me against it. Pain shot through the back of my head, and it took me a couple of seconds to regain my bearings.
"Answer me, and don't fucking lie!" he yelled, clenching his teeth together. "After I paid you a visit last time, he had me put in jail for trying to fuck my own girl. Do you know what that will do to my career?" He gripped my throat tighter, cutting off more air.
I grabbed at his hands and tried to pry them away from my throat.
"What’s the problem? Can’t breathe?" He laughed.
Tears were burning my eyes. He released his hold enough for me to take in a breath. I was still clawing at his hands to let me go when he grabbed my arms with his free hand and held them together.
"You think I don't know? That’s cute." He leaned in closer and whispered in my ear, "Fucking him on your back deck, Tatum, really? Nothing should surprise me with a whore like you. Your behavior is disgusting. What do you have to say for yourself?"
I started to squirm and fight back tears while trying to breathe, the tightness in my chest unbelievable. Finally, he let go of my throat and turned away from me.
"I didn't, I swear to you. He's just a friend," I cried as I tried my best to catch my breath, rubbing at my throat.
He laughed. "Listen to you. You sound pathetic. I didn't, I swear. He's just a friend," he mimicked. "What the fuck are you doing with that guy, Tatum?"
"I swear to you, nothing is going on." I never saw it coming. He turned and smashed his fist into my face, knocking me to the floor.
"You fucked him!" he screamed over me, clenching his fists.
Rage spilled through him as he bent down and pulled me up by the arms. A fist to the other side of my face sent pain searing through my head as he dropped me back to the ground. I let out a sob, my head throbbing. I could taste blood.
"Get up!" he screamed.
I lay there, unable to move, my head ringing.
"I told you to get. The. Fuck. Up!"
"I'm sorry," I sobbed.
He grabbed me by both arms and held me up against the wall. "You’re what? You’re sorry?" A laugh emanated from his chest. "Sorry doesn't even begin to cut it, you bitch." Gripping me by the throat again, I struggled to breath. "I told you, you were mine, but you didn't want to bother with me. Instead, you ran away, and right to that pussy. I'm not even sure I want your filthy ass now, but I'll be dammed if I leave you for him."
He let go of me, holding me against the wall with his body. With his hand gripping my chin, he lifted my head. "Look at me."
I struggled to open my eyes. My cheeks were swelling, and the light in the room was making it hard to open them.
"Open. Your. Fucking. Eyes," he demanded.
The last thing I felt was his hand connect with my face, before I fell to the floor.