Chapter 9 #2
It’s late, almost midnight in New York. He’s probably asleep or out. But two minutes later, the phone buzzes.
Aiden: Yeah, I’m free. Call me.
My throat tightens as I dial, and he answers on the first ring.
“Hey,” he says, his voice warm but worried. “Are you alright? Why do you have a new number?”
The sound of his voice shatters what little control I had left. My breath catches, and sobs break free.
“I’m not okay,” I choke out, tears streaming down my face.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” His voice is sharp with concern.
I take a moment to regain control before the words slip out, raw and ugly.
“You remember when you asked me if I was safe with Ray?” Sobs choke my words. “I…I’m not safe.”
Admitting that makes my stomach churn with shame. I’m a grown-ass man, yet here I am, crying like some scared kid who can’t handle his own life.
How the hell did I let this happen to me?
“What did he do?” Aiden’s voice, a low and deadly growl, vibrates with his intense, controlled anger.
I’m shaking violently, but I have to get this out. “He got the footage of the orgy from Mac today.”
My throat tightens as the scene replays in my mind—Ray’s face when he saw me with Aiden, the fury, the inevitability of what came next.
I should have known, I should have been ready.
“He was so angry when he saw us together, when I told him what it meant to me. I should have—”
“Jay,” Aiden cuts in sharply, forcing me to stop spiraling. “Did he hurt you?”
“He hit me.”
There’s a brief silence, then his roar almost shatters the speaker. “What the fuck? Are you serious? He hit you?” The intensity in his voice makes me flinch. “Where are you now?” he demands.
Aiden’s anger isn’t directed at me, I know that, but right now I can’t separate it from Ray’s. My hands shake so much that the phone nearly slips from my grasp. My breathing becomes ragged, and panic spikes.
Aiden must have heard it because his tone breaks and softens immediately. “Shit. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted like that. Are you somewhere safe?”
“I’m at a hotel,” I whisper, my voice trembling as badly as my hands; the sound of it is pathetic even to my own ears.
“Okay, good. I’m glad you got away from him.” His words come out more slowly now, more controlled.
I can tell he’s holding in his rage, trying not to let it spill. “Are you okay? What can I do?”
“I’m barely hanging on,” I admit, tears stinging my eyes and uncontrollable sobs spilling from my throat. “I… I don’t know what to do.”
“Alright. Breathe with me…try to slow it down. Deep breaths, okay?”
It’s hard through my nose, but I force myself, inhaling through my mouth, my lungs straining, then exhaling in heavy sighs.
“That’s it,” he says, gentler now, anchoring me. “You’re doing great. Just stay with me. Can we switch to video? I need to see your face.”
Pulling myself together, I string some sentences together. “I had to buy a burner phone. He took mine. I don’t even know what’s on this thing.”
Normally, I’d set everything up in five minutes, but right now my brain is mush.
“I’m texting you a link,” Aiden says. “Hang up and call me back through that.”
I do as he tells me, and within a minute, his face fills my new phone’s screen.
The second he sees me, his expression shatters with shock, then fury.
“Jay…” his voice drops dangerously. “He didn’t just hit you; he beat the shit out of you.” His nostrils flare, and his jaw tightens. “I swear to God, I’m going to kill him.”
Tears sting my swollen eye, and my throat closes up. “I know. I didn’t even realize how bad things were until tonight. I feel so… fucking stupid—“
“Don’t,” Aiden cuts me off sharply, then softens when he sees me flinch. “Don’t you dare blame yourself. This isn’t your fault. Do you hear me?”
I nod, even though I don’t believe it. My head screams in pain with the movement.
“Did he do anything else?”
I force myself to answer. “He hit me in the face… twice, then I fell. He kicked me a bunch of times. My ribs and my back.”
Aiden’s face darkens like an approaching storm. “Then I’m not just going to kill him. I’m going to bury his body where no one will ever find it.”
“Aiden—no!” My voice cracks, filled with panic. The thought of him ending up in prison because of me is unbearable. “I couldn’t survive that.”
His chest heaves on the screen. For a moment, I don’t recognize him; he looks feral.
With effort, he reins it in, his shoulders slumping. “Fine. I won’t do anything stupid. Not yet, anyway.”
I squeeze my eyes shut in relief.
“Why aren’t you at your mom’s or Heather’s?” he asks.
I explain why I’m at a hotel. My voice keeps breaking, and every time it does, shame sinks deeper into my gut. I’m a grown man, talking like a scared kid.
I hate myself for it.
“You did the right thing,” Aiden tells me, his voice steady again. “You got out, and you’re safe. That’s what matters. You need to get some ice on those bruises. I’ll be on the first flight I can find. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Shaking my head. “No, I can’t let you do that.”
My voice is thin and weighed down by exhaustion. The thought of him dropping everything for me feels too much. “My mom and Heather will be home tomorrow. I’ll be fine.”
His gaze penetrates me to my core. “Are you kidding? There’s nothing that will stop me from being there for you. I need to do this. Please.“
His pleading guts me.
“Okay,” I breathe out, giving in.
I’ve missed him, and now the thought of him being is the only thing keeping me from unraveling.
“I’m going to hang up and start packing. I’ll text you my flight details. Send me the address of your hotel and your room number. I’ll be there in the morning.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, because that’s all I can manage.
“I’m not letting you go through this alone,” he says firmly. “I care about you too much.”
He offers me a soft smile before the screen goes dark.
Following his advice, I stagger down the hall to the ice machine. My ribs hurt so badly that I can barely carry the bucket. A woman in her pajamas passes me in the hallway, but looks away quickly.
My face must look like roadkill.
Back in the room, I choke down the lukewarm burger I bought earlier. It tastes like ash in my mouth.
I take painkillers and a sleeping pill with flat soda, then strip and step into the shower. The hot water makes the damage scream, and my nose bleeds again, red spirals running down the drain.
By the time I crawl into bed with the ice packs, every nerve is on fire. The sheets scrape my skin like sandpaper, and each move I make sparks fresh waves of pain.
My ribs throb with the memory of Ray’s boot.
The shadows in the corners twist and swell until I swear I see him standing there, waiting for me to close my eyes.
To calm myself, I keep repeating, “Aiden is coming. Mom will be home tomorrow. I’m not alone.”
The sleeping pill pulls at me, dragging me under.
I cling to the one thought that doesn’t hurt—Aiden will be here in the morning—before darkness consumes me.