8. Ophelia #2
“I really like your car,” I say to change the subject. “There’s something about the rumble of the engine on these old muscle cars that just hits different.”
“Agree,” Antonio says, his eyes lighting up.
“I told you we never had a car growing up, so when I moved to the States after I got out of the military, I was like a kid in a candy store. Started my collection with a 1968 Mustang Fastback that I got for a couple grand. It was in horrible condition, but I worked on it myself to restore it. I’ve always been good with my hands. ”
“I can attest to that,” I say cheekily, and he groans, shooting me a look filled with warning.
“Love, I just got my cock to relax, and now you’re tempting him again.”
“Think about baseball or something,” I reply airily, trying to hold back a giggle.
“Fantastic. Now I’m thinking of you riding my bat.”
“I think you missed the opportunity to make a hot dog joke in there somewhere.”
He shakes his head, but his beard twitches as he takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. “Tell me more about Beverly’s Hope.”
I link my fingers with his. “It’s a non-profit I started after the death of my sister.
” Leaning back in my seat, I stare at the roof of the car, trying to contain my emotions.
“Beverly was the smartest person I knew… except when it came to men. The worse they treated her, the harder she fell for them.”
“What happened to her?” Antonio asks quietly.
“After dating a bunch of losers in high school and college, she went to law school, and we all thought for sure she’d outgrow that rebellious stage.
” I close my eyes and shake my head. “She met a man there, and he seemed great. They married as soon as they both graduated. Like I said, Beverly was brilliant, and she passed the bar exam on her first try. Her husband, Bruce, did not. We had a party for her, and that’s when I noticed the bruises on her throat.
She tried to cover them up, but when we went to the restroom together, I noticed a hint of them in the bright lights over the mirror. ”
“Dammit,” Antonio grunts. “Her husband did that to her?”
“Yes. She made excuses for him and said it was just some rough play during sex, and they got carried away.”
I can hear Antonio’s teeth grinding from here. “If you leave bruises during that kind of play, you’re not fecking doing it right.”
“That’s what I told her. Anyway, I was concerned and made sure she knew I was there for her if she needed me, and she laughed it off like I was being silly.
” I’m quiet for a moment, gathering my thoughts.
“The next time I saw marks on her was after Bruce failed the exam again. She canceled a lunch with me because she said she was sick, so I showed up at her house with chicken soup and a couple movies. That’s when I saw her black eye and split lip. ”
Antonio shakes his head. “Did she leave him then?”
I let out a humorless scoff. “No, she made more excuses. He was just upset. He didn’t mean to. It was emasculating to him that she passed and he didn’t. Stuff like that.”
Antonio’s thumb strokes softly up and down my index finger, and that small gesture gives me the strength to continue.
“Luckily, the asshole passed the next go-around, so he didn’t take out his own ignorance on Bev.
I was still concerned though. I tried to bring it up to her several times over the next year, but she shut me down every time, telling me everything was fine. ”
“Some men just can’t handle a woman being better at something than them,” he says, taking the exit smoothly. “Beating a woman isn’t masculine; it’s cowardly.”
“I agree. When Beverly announced she was pregnant, I was devastated because I knew she’d be tied to her abuser for the rest of her life. I tried again to talk her into leaving, but she was convinced she had to stay with him because of the baby.”
Antonio grimaces. “When in reality, that’s the reason she should have left.”
I nod and stare out the window at the tree-lined sidewalk as I rush through the hardest part of the story.
“Bruce, in his deluded thinking, became convinced the baby wasn’t his, so he shot my sister when she was five months pregnant.
At his trial, the DNA evidence showed the baby was indeed his, which I already knew. Beverly would never cheat.”
I don’t cry often over my sister’s death anymore, but I still feel the ache of her loss deep in my soul. Antonio picks up my hand and kisses it, holding it against his lips as he speaks.
“I’m so sorry, love. Was he convicted?”
“He was,” I murmur. “While he was in prison, he picked a fight with the wrong guy and ended up dead.”
“Good riddance,” Antonio snaps. “Guess he got a taste of his own medicine.”
“I wasn’t sad about it at all,” I admit.
“I decided to do something to honor her and to help other women in abusive relationships, so I started Beverly’s Hope.
My sister was an educated woman from an influential family, and it still didn’t matter.
Abuse doesn’t respect careers, family, or finances, though the majority of the women who are in that kind of situation do experience financial abuse.
They end up tied to someone who controls all the money.
Or they give up their career to ‘take care of their man,’ which effectively traps them in the relationship because they have no other options. ”
Antonio sets our joined hands on his thigh. “I’m proud of you for giving them options. I know it must be difficult for you to be reminded of Beverly.”
I smile over at him. “The rewards outweigh the hardships. Every time I see a woman successfully take back control of her life, I feel like my sister is smiling down at me.”
“What do you do to help them?”
“Lots of things. We offer free legal services and counseling. There are several clothing stores we partner with to provide free clothing for interviews or work, as well as a daycare center that offers quality, low-cost childcare. The foundation also raises money to help the women start their own businesses. That way they can be dependent only on themselves.”
“That has to be so empowering, to take charge of their own lives like that.”
I squeeze his hand. “It is. We also have our own militia.”
Antonio almost chokes on his tongue. “Militia?”
Laughing at his response, I explain. “It’s just a little inside joke.
The most dangerous time for a woman in an abusive relationship is when she’s trying to leave, so a local motorcycle club offered their services.
When the woman is ready to go, a bunch of burly men in leather show up and escort her safely out of the house and to wherever she’s headed, whether it be a hotel, a shelter, or someone else’s home.
Then they stand guard outside for the first few nights, sometimes longer, depending on the situation.
” I smile. “They may look a little rough around the edges, but they’re a bunch of softies.
They call themselves the Asshole Militia. ”
The car slows, and Antonio turns into the hotel parking lot and beneath the portico, his eyes meeting mine in the dim light of the car. “You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever known, Ophelia.”
Warmth seeps into my cheeks. “I’m lucky to have the means to help, and my staff is fantastic. I couldn’t do any of it without them.”
Antonio leans toward me, but before he can kiss me, my door swings open and we jerk apart. The valet recognizes me and offers his hand to help me out of the vehicle. “Ms. Hale, so lovely to see you.”
“You too, Derek,” I say as Antonio rounds the car. They do the whole key and ticket exchange thing, and a minute later, my arm is tucked in Antonio’s elbow as we enter the lobby and head down the corridor to the ballroom.
He tilts his head down toward me, keeping his voice low. “I don’t think I told you how absolutely stunning you are tonight.”
I look up at him, and something in my chest tightens. “And you are devastating, Mr. Walsh.”
Javier, one of the bikers from the Asshole Militia stands at the door, checking tickets. I marvel at the difference in his appearance. Instead of leather, he’s wearing a charcoal suit and tie.
“Javier, you look very nice,” I tell the young man.
He grins and tugs at his tie. “Thank you, Ms. Ophelia. I clean up pretty good, huh?”
“That you do. Is everything going smoothly?”
“No problems, ma’am,” he replies respectfully. Javier is in his early twenties, so he’s new to the organization, but he was the first one to raise his hand when I’d asked the group for volunteers for tonight. “Sarah came by to check on me a few minutes ago.”
“Sarah is the event coordinator,” I explain to Antonio as we walk through the door.
“She was one of the women we helped about eight years ago, and she now owns a successful event planning company. She volunteered her time to handle everything for the night so my team and I could have time to go home and get ready for the evening after we got everything set up this afternoon. Plus, after months of planning, it will be nice to be able to actually sit and enjoy the meal without running around like a mad woman.”
Antonio’s eyes sweep the room. “Everything looks beautiful.”
I look around with pride. “I think so too. Since this is for charity, I find it wasteful to spend thousands and thousands of dollars on floral arrangements and decorations, so most of what you see here has been repurposed. When we do need to purchase something, we try to buy them from the businesses of women who have been helped by Beverly’s Hope. ”
He pats my hand. “So you just keep on supporting them even after they’re on their feet.”
“It’s important to me.”