Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Atlanta—Present Day
Olivia kicked off her heels and tugged her blouse loose from the waistband of her skirt. Political schmoozing wasn't something she enjoyed, but the progress she’d made at the event excited her. It was an election year. The prospect of touting a new manufacturing facility in their district was something more than one candidate was interested in. Smiling to herself, Olivia celebrated her success with a huge sushi order from her favorite restaurant.
Pouring herself a glass of wine while she waited, she stood in front of the floor to ceiling windows that looked out onto the river. Her house lights illuminated bits of her backyard, and she could make out the dark shapes of bare trees swaying in the wind.
Olivia loved this house. The moment she saw the listing, she knew she had to have it. She’d rented a condo for a year before her divorce was final, not wanting to buy anything Kyle might try to claim.
The second the ink was dry on the divorce decree, Olivia purchased the house. It was too large for only her, but she loved the privacy of the riverfront lot. The house was at the back of her neighborhood, at the apex of a cul-de-sac. The long, steep driveway sloped down toward the garage, giving her front door privacy from anyone driving by. It was her tucked away piece of heaven.
Olivia had just set the wine bottle on the marble kitchen countertop when the doorbell rang. Already tasting her spicy tuna roll, she took the few steps from the open concept kitchen to her front door, setting her wineglass on the entry table.
She should have checked the door before she opened it. Instead, expecting to scoop up a bag from the ground, she wasn’t prepared for the shove that sent her reeling backwards into the house. She only saved herself from falling by catching the wood spindles of her banister. Kyle kicked the door shut behind him, his face contorted with rage. Terror skidded down her spine. His pupils were huge, his eyes terribly bloodshot, which could only mean he was drunk or high. Neither was good.
“What are you doing here?” Olivia’s stomach knotted as the fear took hold of her body. Run you idiot, her brain screamed, but she felt paralyzed.
It had been two years since the last night of her marriage when Kyle had attacked her, but her body remembered. She immediately tried to think of ways to appease him—to calm him down.
“You stupid, fucking whore,” Kyle snarled at her. Olivia backed up, only to trip over the heels she’d left on the foyer floor. She landed hard on her tailbone, and a sharp stab of pain ricocheted up her back.
Kyle loomed over where she lay on the floor, his fists bunched. The muscles in her body tensed, prepared for the kick she was sure would come. “You’ve made a fool of me.”
Olivia licked her lips. “Kyle, I don't know what you're talking about.” She lifted her hands, anticipating a blow, when one of his fists moved. “Tell me what's wrong. Why are you so upset?”
“Like you don't know,” Kyle sneered. “You thought you were going to get one over on me?” Kyle waved his arms wide, and then halted, his gaze scanning her home. “Did he pay for this, or is this how you spent my money?”
Leaving her on the floor, Kyle stalked past her into her kitchen. Olivia let out a breath and scrambled to her feet. She weighed her options. If she ran for the door, he’d catch her for sure, and then it would be worse, and her phone and keys were in the kitchen with him. The panic tightening her chest made it hard for her to hold on to any one thought for more than a few seconds.
Not now, Olivia. You can’t lose control.
Kyle stood in front of where she displayed her teacup collection on tiny hooks. With a finger he set one swinging. Olivia winced as the china clinked loudly against the cup next to it. “I can’t believe you still have this crap.”
Olivia inhaled and exhaled slowly through her nose. She needed to stay calm. The only way she was going to get through this unharmed was if Kyle wanted to leave. It had to be his idea.
“Kyle,” Olivia asked, her voice as soft as she could make it. “Can you tell me what happened?”
Kyle looked over his shoulder at her, but he seemed less agitated than when he first barged in. He continued to rove through the kitchen and into the adjacent room with her sofa and television.
Olivia inched toward the foyer. Kyle stopped at the large windows for a beat before spinning to face her. “This is nicer than my place. Did you spread your legs for it?”
“No.”
The word reignited his anger. Kyle’s long legs quickly brought him to her again. “You think you won, don't you?”
In her haste to get away, Olivia misjudged her steps, and her back hit the wall instead of taking her into the foyer. She’d cut off her own escape route.
Olivia was shaking, and shame crawled over her that she didn’t stand up to him. Kyle's nostrils flared as his chest rose and fell. She’d never seen him this enraged. Her head fuzzed as her throat closed, her heart hammering wildly in her chest.
Olivia, you can do this. Focus.
Her body didn’t care what her brain wanted her to do, and she struggled to keep a smile on her face. “I could pour you a glass of wine, I-I poured myself one.”
She swallowed hard when his hand clamped around her arm, and he thrust her toward the island and the bottle of wine.
His laugh ricocheted off the walls. “You're going to offer me a drink? After you got wasted and fucked yourself into a job. Whatever happened to, ‘ You drink too much, Kyle.’ ‘I don't like how you act when you drink, Kyle.’ Now, suddenly you're going to offer me one?” Kyle grabbed the neck of the wine bottle and slammed it into the counter. Wine and glass shards flew. “You fucking, traitorous bitch.”
He turned and in one movement his arm swept her collection of tea cups off their hooks and into the air. She gasped and squeezed her eyes shut as they shattered all over the counter and onto the floor. Kyle grabbed her shoulders and shook her so hard her teeth snapped together. “Look at me.”
Olivia’s heart pounded in her chest, but she pried her lids open only to see Kyle’s evil smile inches from her face. “Oops.”
“Kyle, don’t,” she breathed. Olivia wanted to scream at him to get out, but the moment she had always feared would come had arrived. There was a different light in his eyes tonight, and he looked close to completely losing control.
For most of their marriage, Olivia made excuses for Kyle’s mental and verbal abuse. It wasn’t as if he hit her all the time, she’d rationalized to herself. Until the night he’d punched and kicked her repeatedly. Olivia had lain on her kitchen floor wondering how her life had gotten to that point. She’d walked away the next day and foolishly thought the divorce would keep her safe.
“You’ve ruined my life. He had me banned from the club!”
“I had nothing to do with that.” Olivia forced herself to meet his eyes.
“They made me leave. They actually came up to me and told me to leave the premises—in front of everyone!” Kyle’s shoulders bunched, and he suddenly thrust her away from him to prowl her kitchen, ranting. “You made him do that, didn't you? You don't want me to be happy.” He rounded on her again. “What did you tell him about me?”
“I didn't tell Declan—" Her words were cut off when Kyle's hand wrapped around her throat. He drove her backward until she felt the cool metal of her refrigerator against her back.
“How dare you say his name to me?”
Olivia clutched at his hand, bright spots appearing in front of her. Kyle’s eyes were black, and Olivia wasn’t sure he even realized where he was.
She reached up and yanked on his hair. Her arms felt leaden, but the momentary pain appeared to get through to him. His expression changed, and his hand fell from her throat. Olivia sucked in gulps of air, her throat burning.
Kyle bent double, his hands on his knees, and wailed. “Why do you make me act like this, Livvy? I loved you, and you ruined my life.”
“It's not ruined, Kyle,” she rasped. “I have a plan that will keep the company open. It'll keep the stock price up, and then you can?—”
The first blow skimmed her jaw, followed by a second to her mouth that spun her around. Her fingers caught the cool marble counter as Kyle started shouting. “There you go, again. You always have to prove how you're going to save the day.”
Her eyes watering and face throbbing, Olivia forced her eyes open. The answer appeared in front of her. She didn’t risk a glance back before she grabbed the handle and yanked the large knife free from its block. Bracing her back against the counter, she raised the knife in front of her.
Kyle stood with his eyes shut, gripping tufts of his hair. “You ruined everything .”
“Get the fuck out of my house.” The words weren’t as forceful as Olivia hoped, but when Kyle’s eyes popped open, they went from her face to the knife pointed at him and back again.
Olivia could taste the blood in her mouth, and her face and neck were on fire.
“What’s this, Livvy? You’re going to fight back now?” His eyes dipped to the knife, a cocky smile on his face. “Your hand is shaki?—”
If she hadn’t been so frightened, Olivia might have enjoyed the comical expression of shock on his face when she lunged, burying the knife in his side.
Kyle didn’t drop immediately, like she expected. He let out a sharp cry and then his arm shot out and he wrapped her hair around his hand. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”
Then the hand was gone, and Kyle staggered to the side, knocking into the counter as he stared down at the knife. “Stupid bitch,” he whispered. Olivia watched in frozen horror as Kyle stumbled to the front door and out into the night.
Shaking, Olivia waited precisely five seconds before sprinting to the front door, ignoring the stinging pain in her feet as she raced across the broken porcelain. Flipping the lock and panting hard, she pressed her palm hard against her chest.
Oh my god. What if I killed him?
What if he calls the police? I’m going to jail!
He attacked you, her rational mind chimed in, but no one believed her before…
Kyle’s family had deep ties in the city. There was no guarantee… and the humiliation of everyone knowing what she’d been hiding. People saw Olivia as a high-powered female executive. Strong. Assertive. Hell, she’d even spoken at a local high school and served as a mentor for young girls…
Now everyone would know she was a fraud. She wasn’t strong. She’d been weak and afraid for so long.
Shame, deep and dark, pulsed through her.
I should have left years ago.
I never should have married him.
Olivia walked back to the destruction of her kitchen and bit her cheek hard at the sight of her teacups in a million pieces. She pulled her phone from her purse and stared at it. It wasn’t 911 she wanted to call. It was Declan. She stifled the sob that rose in her throat. Grandma Rose would be so disappointed in her.
Slowly, Olivia set the phone down, and avoiding the mirror on the wall, she grabbed two ibuprofen before she began to clean.
I’ll get a better security system. Maybe get the dog I’ve always wanted. I can handle this—if I don’t get arrested tonight .
An eerie calm came over her. The fallout of her pressing charges would be worse, she told herself. Olivia could file for a protection order—or try, anyway. She had no proof it was him and no documentation from any of the prior times. Even then, Kyle would ignore a piece of paper. And if it ever got out, it would only enrage him further. How could she face everyone at work when they knew her secret?
Kyle wouldn’t get close to her again. She’d make sure of it—If he was still alive, that is.
Olivia’s legs shook as she climbed the steps to her room. I should lay out some clothes, she thought, in case the police come. Her mind felt oddly disconnected, and if she hadn’t been so grateful for the numbness, Olivia would be worried. She’d stabbed her ex-husband. She should feel something.
Later that night, after she’d cleaned the cuts on her feet and her lip, Olivia rubbed arnica cream into the bruises on her face. She couldn’t get Kyle’s eyes out of her mind. Tears slipped down her cheeks, stinging her broken skin, as she curled into a ball under the covers. She wasn’t sure what exactly she was crying for… The pain? What happened? What would come? Or, what would never be?