Chapter 42 #2
Fury ignites in my veins. I will not let him win. He’s taken too much from me. With every misstep during our relationship, I always took the blame and cowered in the corner, letting him walk all over me.
But not anymore.
I’m not the weak woman I was when I dated Nolan.
Picturing Weston and James’ faces in my mind, I take a deep breath, gathering what strength I have left. I reach into my pocket and grab my car keys, wildly pressing the buttons until my fingers hit the right one and the car alarm goes off, horn honking and lights flashing.
“You think that’s going to scare me off?” Nolan roars, hitting me across the cheek again. “I’ve been dreaming of this day since I saw your photos in the tabloids. I’m going to give you what you deserve.”
He knocks me to the ground and jumps on top of me, straddling my torso. I roll underneath him, trying to buck him off me.
“No, I don’t deserve any of this!”
As my anger mounts, I lash out, scratching his cheeks with my nails. Curling my hands into fists, I hit him, bashing any part of his body I can reach. Every grunt he makes feels like a victory, fueling me to continue my attack.
“You’re a parasite, Nolan! All you do is leech off everyone around you.”
But with every punch I land, Nolan gives it back to me twice as good. Every inch of my body throbs in pain, but I refuse to give up.
The air is filled with the sound of squealing tires. Gravel sprays through the parking lot as a truck roars to a stop only feet away from where Nolan and I are wrestling.
Josh storms out of the vehicle, running to us. Grabbing Nolan by the shirt, Josh pulls him off of me. He cocks his arm back and impales his fist into the side of Nolan’s face.
Once.
Twice.
With each bone-jarring crunch, I flinch. After the third strike, Josh roughly pushes Nolan away, and he collapses to the ground, blood streaming from his nose and lips.
Breathing heavily, Josh approaches me. He holds out his bloodied hands to me and pulls me up from the ground. Then, he wraps his arms around me, holding me to chest.
And I fall apart. I’m a mess, tears stream down my cheeks, and my breath comes out in juddering shudders. I’m shaking so badly that my legs give out. Josh tightens his arms around me, holding me upright.
“The police are on their way. Are you hurt? Do I need to call an ambulance?”
I shake my head, but the movement makes me grimace. Shit, maybe I need to see a doctor. But I don’t want to. I just want to go home to James and Weston.
“It was smart of you to turn on your car alarm,” Josh murmurs. “That was what made me look over here.”
Slowly releasing me, he steps back, studying my injuries. “Fuck, James is gonna kill that guy.”
“Nolan,” I whisper, my eyes darting to where he lies, knocked out.
Josh’s eyebrows jump. “That’s your ex?” he hisses, running his hand through his dark blond hair. “I thought you were getting mugged. I didn’t realize you knew him. Shit, Georgie! Are you okay? Really?”
Tears drip down my cheeks, but I don’t bother wiping them away. I bury my face in Josh’s chest and mutter what I hope will be the truth. “No, but I will be.”
After the police arrived, they took our statements. Nolan and I were taken to the hospital to get checked out. The good news is that I’ll be fine. No concussion this time. Just some cuts and scrapes, bruising, and a swollen, irritated airway from the attempted strangulation.
The bad news? Nolan is also going to be fine. But at least he’ll have to recuperate in the Nashville jail until his arraignment after Thanksgiving. And probably much longer than that.
Early this morning, James’ attorneys reached out to Nolan’s family to inform them of what their son had done last night.
They apologized on Nolan’s behalf and told James’ attorney that they will not provide any financial funding for bail or defense attorneys, so Nolan will be stuck in jail until the case goes to trial.
With Josh and my testimony and my injuries, the police say we have a solid case, but since it’s a holiday, the prosecutor’s office hasn’t filed any charges yet. Those should be coming next week.
If all goes as it should, Nolan will be looking at spending several years behind bars. Once he’s released, we’ll seek a permanent restraining order against him.
Josh strolls into the kitchen. Since we didn’t get home until after midnight, he spent the night here.
Josh and I have had our issues, but last night was the tipping point.
He saw firsthand why I fled, choosing to be pregnant and homeless, and I saw that, like his older brother, he has a strong, protective side to him.
He finds me sitting at the kitchen table staring off into space. Going to the pantry, he calls out, “You hungry?”
“No,” I answer, my voice raspy. It hurts to swallow, so for now, I’m sticking with sipping hot tea.
He returns a minute later with a box of Lucky Charms. For a moment, my problems slip away, and I can’t help but smile.
“What is it with the Harper brothers and their obsession with Lucky Charms?”
Josh shrugs. “It’s my favorite cereal, but I didn’t think James liked it much.”
I blink at him. “He buys it every week, Josh. He eats it every day.”
His brows lift. “Huh. Must be an old habit. When we were kids, we could only afford one box of cereal at a time. James would always let me pick, even though he hated this stuff.”
I let out a soft laugh. “Well, he always picks out the marshmallows and gives them to me.”
Josh’s expression softens, turning thoughtful. “Yeah… the marshmallows were my favorite part. He used to do that for me when we were kids.” He pauses, then nods to himself. “That sums James up, doesn’t it? He’s always been the guy who’s willing to sacrifice his needs to make others happy.”
“James is a good man,” I reply.
Pouring the cereal into a bowl and adding milk, Josh comes to the table to sit next to me.
Looking at him, I add quietly, “You are, too.”
“Thanks, Georgie. I know I haven’t always been… nice to you or supportive of your relationship with James—”
I reach out across the table, laying my hand atop his. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I’ve been an ass, and I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. That means a lot.”
“Water under the bridge?”
I nod, withdrawing my hand. “Yeah.”
“Good.”
Between bites, Josh peppers me with questions about what he and James need to do to prepare for Thanksgiving dinner. Since I made most of the food yesterday, they’ll just need to make the cranberry sauce and reheat the food. Oh, and smoke the turkey, but they were already in charge of the bird.
As Josh finishes his bowl of cereal, James walks in carrying Weston. Heading straight for me, James tilts my face so he can see my injuries in the light before gingerly kissing my uninjured cheek and murmuring, “I love you,” in my ear.
Since finding out about what happened last night, James has been pacing the house like a caged panther.
Other than to take care of Weston, James hasn’t let me out of his sight.
He held me all night long, brushing the tears from my face when I woke up from a nightmare, kissing away my fears, and making me feel more loved than I ever have.
Grabbing his hand, I bring it to my lips, kissing his palm. “I love you, too, and I promise you I’m okay, James.”
“Yeah, she’s a tough one, brother. She probably didn’t even need me to pull over last night because she gave that jackass a walloping,” Josh grins at me.
Returning his smile, I mouth thank you because we both know the outcome would have been a lot different had he not stopped to help me.
But we also both know that James doesn’t need to know I was fighting a losing battle.
When the four of us sit down for Thanksgiving dinner later that afternoon, I glance around the table—to the two people who I love more than life itself and to the man who I’m seeing in a new light—and I feel especially thankful knowing how close I came to losing everything last night.