7. Cole
Cole
I collapsed onto the couch with a grunt, throwing an arm over my eyes.
The victory over the Seattle Sailors had been brutal.
They’d come out of the gate hitting heavy, and all my muscles ached.
Thank God, Coach decided to grant us mercy in the form of a maintenance day tomorrow, because I was in desperate need of an ice bath followed by a massage.
Fuck, I was so sore I didn’t think I could make it up the stairs to my bedroom.
The start of the season was always a little rough as we got reacquainted with the physical demands of the game.
The irony was that as soon as our bodies reached peak performance, injuries inevitably began to occur.
I didn’t know a single guy playing professionally who made it to April or beyond who wasn’t banged up to all hell.
But most, if not all, came back every September ready to do it all over again. Because we loved hockey more than anything.
Resigning myself to a night spent on the couch, I reclined against the cushions before grabbing the remote and turning on the TV.
Highlights from around the league played on the screen, including the goal I’d managed to score during the Surf’s win tonight.
It was even more beautiful watching it from a bird’s-eye view—a top-shelf snipe, finding the tiniest gap between the goalie’s shoulder and the crossbar.
All that time spent teaching Austin how to shoot with precision this summer had helped to sharpen that skill for me as well.
My eyes began to droop, growing heavier with each passing minute. But just when sleep was about to claim me, a tapping sound jarred me back to consciousness.
I jackknifed upright, sucking in a sharp breath as the sudden movement caused lightning bolts of pain to shoot through my beat-up body.
“Fuck,” I hissed, digging my fingers into a particularly tender spot.
When my heart rate settled so that I could no longer hear it beating in my ears, I strained them to pinpoint the location of the noise that had woken me.
Listening intently for several minutes, I didn’t hear it again, so I chalked it up to my subconscious playing tricks on me.
My mouth opened wide, a loud yawn escaping. Even though it was going to hurt like hell, if I wanted a good night’s rest, it was probably better if I made my way up to bed. My mattress was best in class for muscle recovery, and the room was soundproofed with blackout shutters.
Shoving off the couch with a groan, I trudged toward the stairs. I made it halfway there when the tapping I’d sworn I imagined resumed, and I stopped dead in my tracks.
It was coming from the vicinity of the glass doors to my back deck. Probably a wayward seagull or other bird using its beak, but it wouldn’t hurt to check it out.
Walking over to the large windows, I looked through them.
The area was illuminated by the underwater lighting coming from the pool, and at first glance, there wasn’t a single animal in sight.
Either I was hearing things, or whatever had been pecking on the glass had flown off before I made my way over here.
Just as I reached for the chain to pull the blinds, a tiny pebble struck the glass. Then another. And another.
While I was relieved that I hadn’t been imagining the sound, the corners of my lips turned down in a frown at the idea of someone trespassing on my property this late at night.
Pulling the glass door open, I stepped onto the patio. “Hello? Who’s out there?”
There was a rustling of shrubbery, but no response.
“Listen, I’d rather not press charges, so if you leave now, I’ll pretend you were never here.”
“Cole.” My name was uttered on the weakest of croaks, but the underlying tone of desperation gave me pause.
“Are you hurt? Do you need help?” Concern colored my words.
There was movement in the landscaping surrounding the pool deck, and a figure came into view. It appeared to be a woman, dressed in oversized black clothing, with her head bowed and both arms hugging her middle.
“Miss?” I prompted.
That was enough for her to lift her head, and all the air left my lungs in a rush.
Instead of a stranger, as I’d initially expected, the woman standing before me was the one I’d been in love with for almost half my life.
“Bridget.” Her name fell from my lips like a prayer. “What are you doing here?”
She took a step into the light, and unease skittered down my spine when I saw that her lower lip was trembling, her green eyes glassy.
My fingers flexed, itching to reach for her, but my brain was quick to remind me that she wasn’t mine. Not anymore.
With hands that shook, Bridget reached up to remove the hood of the sweatshirt covering her head, and the sight of her face pulled an involuntary gasp from my throat.
There was a nasty gash above one eyebrow, a line of dried blood disappearing into her hair. My eyes trailed lower, and my heart stopped beating altogether when I saw the purple marks lining the column of her throat.
“I didn’t know where else to go.”
Those rasped words acted like a knife piercing through my chest. Reacting purely on instinct, I rushed toward her, halting when she flinched at the sudden movement.
“Shit, sorry.” I tugged on the short strands of my hair, at a complete loss of how to handle this situation. It killed me to know that Russ was probably watching this scene from above, witnessing just how badly I’d failed to look out for his baby sister. “Tell me how I can help you.”
Blinking rapidly, she pleaded, “C-can I stay here? Just for tonight?”
“Of course. You can stay as long as you need.”
I held out an arm, indicating that she should precede me inside. Her motions were stiff, almost jerky, and I could have sworn I heard a whimper fall from her lips as she stepped inside my home.
Sliding the patio door shut, I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “That cut looks pretty nasty. Would you mind at all if I cleaned it?”
She failed to hide a wince as she lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Okay.”
I ducked into the bathroom to grab my first aid kit before leading Bridget into the kitchen. She struggled to climb onto one of the stools at the island, so I offered, “Can I help you up?”
Her chin dipped, giving me permission.
Setting down the medical supply case, I gripped her around the waist. But the second my fingers dug in with enough pressure to lift her off the ground, Bridget let out an animalistic wail, contorting violently in my hold.
I nearly dropped her, the idea of causing her pain making me sick to my stomach.
Instead, I got her set on the stool as quickly as possible, and lifted the hem of her hoodie to survey the extent of her injuries hidden from view.
There didn’t appear to be any damage to her stomach, but when I spun the stool around, my blood ran cold. The entirety of her back was black and blue, with a darker line of bruising across the center of her spine.
With my throat closing up, my words came out gruff. “I’m going to take you to the hospital.”
“No!”
Her cry was remarkably strong for someone so physically broken.
“Bridg—” I couldn’t stop my voice from cracking. “You could have internal bleeding or damage to your spinal cord.”
“It looks worse than it is, promise.”
My eyes slammed shut, her pain becoming mine, and I begged, “Please.”
“I-I can’t. He’ll find me there.”
Swear to God, I was going to kill her piece-of-shit husband.
Hauling in a deep breath, I blew it out slowly. While I might disagree with her decision to forgo medical attention, I silently vowed to support her however she needed. That’s what Russ would have wanted.
Straightening to my full height, I looked Bridget in the eye. “All right. No hospital. What about going to the police?”
With fear in her green gaze, she shook her head. “No.”
I zeroed in on the finger-shaped bruises on her neck, my jaw locking tight as I imagined how they’d gotten there. “He needs to be held accountable. Law enforcement can help make that happen.”
Bridget huffed out a wry laugh. “Doubtful.”
There was no way in hell I was letting this drop. There needed to be repercussions for a man who dared to lay his hands on a woman. “I know you’re scared, but you deserve to get justice for what he did to you.”
“He’s a cop, Cole.”
That information stunned me silent.
“Your heart is in the right place, but justice isn’t in the cards for me.”
Finally finding my voice, I scoffed, “So what? Because he’s a cop, he’s allowed to get away with murder? The laws apply to those who are meant to enforce them too.”
“In an ideal world, maybe,” she agreed. “But not in this one.”
“We have to try—”
She held up a hand, cutting me off. “You don’t know him like I do.
Aiden is extremely good at putting on a front.
He’s charming, well-liked by his colleagues.
And he’s a skilled liar. If I went into the station, claiming he’d roughed me up, I have no doubt he’d be able to convince those he works with that I have psychosis and was off my meds. ”
A growl of frustration vibrated through my chest. “How did you end up married to a guy like that?”
“We’re not married.”
My brows drew down. “He introduced himself as your husband.”
Bridget rolled her eyes and blew out a breath. “When we bumped into you a couple of weeks ago, we’d been at brunch with his captain. Aiden was pissed that I’d corrected his boss’s assumption that we were married, and telling you that we were was his way of asserting power over me.”
“So there’s nothing tying you to him?” I hedged.
“No. Not legally.”
Relief crashed over me with the force of a tidal wave.
“Good, then you’ll never see him again,” I declared.
She hummed. “A girl can dream.”
I bent my knees so that I could look her in the eyes when I said, “I mean it. He’s never going to get another chance to hurt you again. Not so long as I’m breathing.”
“You can’t protect me forever,” she protested.
I arched an eyebrow. “Wanna bet?”
A weary sigh was pulled from her chest. “I’m tired, Cole.”
“Okay. Let me get you patched up, then you can go to bed.”