Chapter 38
Jack
I’m livid, going out of my mind with worry. Once we got off the plane, I checked my phone to see if Al sent me anything since I hadn’t heard from her all day, but instead, I had a series of messages from Seth that turned my blood cold.
Every single text and call I made to Al while we loaded into the shuttle back to Wilder went unanswered, and my brain immediately thought of the worst-case scenario.
The text Coop showed me from his sister made me feel a little better because at least I know where Al is, and she’s not alone. Still, I haven’t been able to catch my breath since I read Seth’s text about Bradley being served at the stadium in front of everyone.
Why didn’t Al tell me she was filing a restraining order? Did something happen she didn’t tell me about?
I’m taking the stairs two at a time, desperate to make sure she’s okay. I’ve been on autopilot, my anxiety radiating off me, but I know nothing will make it better. Not until I see Alondra for myself.
Why haven’t I heard from her? The only possible reason is something must’ve happened, and she didn’t want to be a fucking distraction from hockey. It’s the only thing that makes sense to me, but it makes me angry because I’d prefer anything over the silence causing my mind to run rampant.
I knock on the door, the brutal chill in the air finally hitting me now that I’ve stopped moving, waiting for someone to answer.
The sound of the deadbolt makes me feel a little better, but I’m wishing the girls had said yes when Coop offered to install a chain lock for them last month. The way Macy looks at me after opening the door, tells me everything I need to know without her saying a goddamn thing.
Macy steps back to let me in, and my head is spinning. The adrenaline pumping through my veins isn’t helping me see clearly, but I can’t imagine it’s good.
“What happened? Why didn’t either of you call me?” I slip out of my shoes, dropping my keys on the counter as I wait for them to answer me.
“I wanted to, but Al asked us not to.” Ellie’s lower lip trembles, and she wipes her nose on the back of her sleeve.
“Jack, she’s sleeping,” Macy says, and I look around the apartment for any sign of what happened. I feel nauseous at the sight of the broken pieces of a barstool set inside a trash bag. What the hell did he do to my girl?
Why didn’t Al let them call me?
“Where is she?” I ask, my voice cracking, and Macy glances at Alondra’s door. I take a few steps, but Ellie darts in front of me, putting her hand up to stop me.
I’m trying not to take my fear and anger about the situation out on the tall blonde in front of me, but I need to see Al.
“Let Macy see if she’s awake before you barge in, okay?”
My vision blurs, and the crushing weight on my chest presses harder on my lungs, making it difficult for me to draw in a breath to calm myself while I wait for the all-clear.
How fucking bad was today if they’re stopping me from going in right away?
I know Al has been crystal clear about not wanting me to act like her bodyguard, but I didn’t do enough to protect Momma from Dad, and I promised things would be different with Alondra.
I move closer, hearing Macy ask if she can let me in, and it takes every ounce of my self-control to wait for Al’s answer.
“It’s okay.”
Thank fuck. I push the door open further, stepping past Macy to get in the room, and I nearly fall to my knees when the light from the hallway shows the damage done to her face.
One of her eyes is a hideous shade of purple, swollen shut, and my stomach rolls.
I shut the door, reaching for the light switch, on a one-track mindset to make sure she’s okay and then I’m going to murder Bradley for laying even a finger on her.
“So how were the games?” Alondra asks, twisting her hands in her lap as she watches me.
Gentle. Be gentle with her. She’s not the one you’re upset with.
“I’m going to kill him,” I promise, dragging a hand over my jaw, feeling my entire body tremble with hatred.
Al’s shoulders sink, and I take a step forward to close the gap between us. Her cheekbone is an angry red beneath her eye, and I wish I’d been here. I know why I wasn’t, and I’m aware of how important hockey is, but Al was hurt, and I wasn’t here to stop it.
“Don’t say that, Jack. You know better than to sink to his level because of me.”
I look to the spot next to Alondra on the bed, and as if understanding the silent question, she nods.
She doesn’t have to tell me twice, and I perch on the side of her mattress, reaching to gently brush a stray curl out of Al’s face. How could he do this to her?
“He hurt you. I saw the broken stool, and they said you wouldn’t let them call me. Al, what the hell happened?” I ask, struggling to keep my emotions in check. Losing my mind doesn’t help Alondra.
Hesitation and skepticism fill her bruised features, and she glances down at her lap.
“I filed a restraining order after he sent me a text last night, and Bradley was mad. I wasn’t thinking, and I went to look for my water bottle in my car, but Bradley was standing on the other side of the door.
I’m okay,” she says, her words slurring together at a few parts from how quickly she’s trying to explain.
I want to wrap my arms around her, but instead I turn, putting my head in my hands.
“I’m okay,” Al repeats, but it only makes me feel worse.
She shouldn’t be trying to make me feel better about this.
“Why didn’t you call me?” I ask, and the bed dips behind me as Alondra moves closer. I should have known when I didn’t hear from her all day that something was wrong.
I should have been here, and maybe this wouldn’t have happened.
“There wasn’t anything you could do. At some point, I have to stand on my own,” she explains, pressing her lips to the back of my shoulder, yet it does little to ease me. “Jack, we’ve talked about this. I need a friend, not a bodyguard.”
It’s not fair for her to remind me when she’s sitting here with a fucking black eye and who knows what else. “As your friend, I get to worry about you. It’s my decision,” I say, leaving no room for argument. “Is it just your face?” I ask, twisting to look at her.
She nods, and the weight on my chest loosens, relieved by her answer. I would’ve thought it was worse.
“I think my eye is a badge of honor,” she tries to joke, cracking a smile.
“Don’t try to make light of this,” I say, guilt wreaking havoc on my internal war to stay right here with her. I should have been here to stop him. What good am I if I can’t protect Al when she needs me the most? “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
“I don’t want you to be sorry. It’s going to be over soon.”
“What did the police say? Did they arrest him for violating the restraining order?” I ask, and her entire body stiffens. No. I can tell by looking at Al she didn’t, but I need to hear her say it. “Al, you called the police, right?”
“No,” Alondra says, trying to straighten her shoulders, and my brain malfunctions.
“He showed up here after being served a restraining order, entered your apartment without being invited in, hit you in the face after spewing whatever bullshit I’m sure came out of his mouth, and you didn’t call the police?”
“Jack—”
I shake my head, needing to move to get rid of the energy begging to be let out. I stand, trying to make sense of why she wouldn’t have called. He hit her in the fucking face, and she didn’t call?
“Did he threaten you?” I ask, turning toward her, and Al is sitting there like a statue. This is it. He threatened her, but with what? “What did he say to you?”
My mind is spinning out with possibilities as she clamps her jaw shut, refusing to say anything. I drag my fingers through my hair, shoving aside the tiredness and ache setting into my bones from my game earlier.
“Alondra, if he threatened you, that’s all the more reason to call the police.” I’m trying to soften my delivery, but I’m terrified it won’t make a difference in what I say.
“I’m not calling them.”
“Then I’m calling them,” I argue, and the shrug she gives me makes my heart crack.
“Fine. I’ll deny anything happened. I’m clumsy and I tripped over my own feet, hitting my face on the edge of the counter.”
My jaw falls open, staring at her in disbelief. How can Al say that?
I move to kneel in front of my beautiful girl, taking both of her hands in mine. “Al, I’m begging you. Please report this. Please,” I beg, hoping she’ll change her mind.
There’s more to this than Al’s admitting, but she shakes her head, looking away.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t.”