Everly
EVERLY
I spun around. Paul was standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room. The only other exit was the door behind me, but I’d locked and bolted it earlier. I’d stand no chance of unlocking it in time to escape.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded, pushing confidence I didn’t feel into my voice. “How did you get in?” I backed away until I butted up against the kitchen cabinets.
“We need to talk.”
“How did you get in, Paul?” I snapped.
“About last night,” he continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “I went too far. I shouldn’t have kissed you, but dammit, Ev. Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you? How hard these last two years have been for me?”
In my wrath, I momentarily forgot the fear zipping through my veins.
“Hard for you? Jesus Christ, you really are a piece of work. When you left, I had nothing. Nothing! No way to support me and Rhett. I’ve worked my ass off to keep a roof over our heads and put food on the table, and you simply waltz back in here after all this time, refuse to tell me where the fuck you’ve been, and say it’s been difficult for you .”
He raked his fingers through his hair. “I’ve told you. It’s complicated.”
I snorted a laugh. “Oh, no. It’s not complicated, Paul. It’s a lie. Our whole life together was just one big lie.”
His eyes narrowed, and he took a menacing step forward. The only thing between us now was my tiny kitchen table. I shuffled to the left, my eyes going to the door that led to the living room.
“What do you mean, ‘a lie’?”
Another step from Paul.
Another shuffle from me.
“I had a visitor today,” I said. “Someone who knew you. He had a lot to say for himself. All very interesting.”
“What visitor?”
“Nick Grayson.”
He tried to hide it, the momentary shock, but I saw it in the way he dipped his chin, his eyes shifting around as if they’d become detached somehow.
“That jackass,” he said. “He’s a piece of shit. What exactly did he say?”
“You tell me, Paul. Why do you think he’d come here to see me?”
He grunted. “Whatever he said, it was bullshit.”
“Why?” I frowned, a part of me enjoying watching him squirm. I shouldn’t play these games, but he owed me. He owed me answers that until now he’d refused to part with. I knew everything, and one look at his face told me he knew that, too, but I wanted to hear it from him. It was the least I deserved. He’d used me, put me through hell when he first disappeared, hurt my son. “What could he possibly have to gain by seeking me out only to tell me a bunch of lies?”
“Because I fucked his wife, okay?” Paul yelled, exasperated. “I shouldn’t have done it, but I did. It was a mistake. And now he wants payback by ruining what we have.”
I laughed, the sound full of bitterness. “We don’t have anything, Paul. We never did.”
“Don’t say that, babe,” he said, smoothing his expression. “I feel bad for cheating on you, but the more time passed, the harder it was to come home. And besides, you cheated, too, so we’re even.”
My jaw popped open. Not only did he think he could get away with telling me half-truths, but he actually believed we were on a par. An eye for an eye. An affair for an affair. What had I ever seen in this man? I must’ve lost my mind to fall for his bull. The time had come to put an end to this charade.
“You didn’t cheat on me, Paul, not with a woman anyway. What you did after you left me is your business, just as what I’ve done is mine. You can screw half of Los Angeles, for all I care. But what really sticks in my throat is that you used me. You needed me, but not in the way I thought. God, the naivete. What was I to you, apart from a woman who happened to live in the right location so you could catch the bad guys and move your career on to the next level? Was it all a lie?”
“No,” he mumbled. “It wasn’t.”
“Really?” I scoffed.
“It wasn’t,” he gritted out, his jaw locked tight. “You think I’d have risked my career if you didn’t mean something to me?”
“I don’t know, Paul. For me to answer a question like that, I’d have to really know you, and I haven’t got a clue who you are.”
He moved fast, faster than I could. He gripped my upper arms and shook me. “I love you. I always fucking loved you. I used to lie awake at night trying to figure out how I could make it work. But then you got fucking pregnant. I might’ve been able to swing us continuing our relationship after I got called in from the field. But a kid? No. You gave me no choice other than to leave.”
“Yet now you’re back because your superiors found out about your lies, and they kicked you out. You’re not back for me, or for Rhett. You’re back for yourself.” I yanked out of his grip and moved around to the other side of the table, putting some distance, and a solid object, between us. “I want you to leave, Paul.”
“No. Not until we’ve talked. Properly.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Don’t you get it? There’s nothing else to say.”
His lips curved at the edges, the smile malevolent. I suppressed a shiver and backed up a bit. If I caught him off guard and made a run for the front door, I might make it. But what if I didn’t? Until last night, in my heart of hearts, I wouldn’t have thought Paul capable of violence. Anger, yes. A temper, most definitely. But physical violence toward a woman? Never. If I didn’t have the shadow of a bruise on my chin, and a cut to the inside of my top lip where Paul had kissed me so roughly, it wouldn’t have ever crossed my mind.
“There’s plenty to say, Ev. So I suggest you get in there, sit your ass down, keep your mouth shut, and listen.”
He flicked his wrist, a gesture for me to go into the living room. I did, only because that brought me closer to the front door, and a chance at escape, should I need it. Perversely, though, there was a part of me that wanted—no, needed—to hear what he had to say. To watch him try to worm his way out of a situation all of his own making and with a solid justification—because there wasn’t one.
I sat on the arm of the chair, a lamp within reach and the front door less than ten feet away. I estimated I’d need about five seconds to unhook the chain, twist the lock, and then open the door. If he tried anything, I’d stun him with the lamp and make a dash for it.
“I did love you, Ev,” he kicked off with. “And seeing you now, I still do. We could make a go of it. The three of us. You, me, and Rhett. There’s nothing to stop us now.”
I shook my head. He just didn’t get it.
“There’s no point, Paul. I don’t feel anything for you.”
“But you could. You loved me once. We just need some time. The three of us. We could take a trip. Vegas, maybe.”
I laughed. “Vegas? Yeah, great idea with a six-year-old in tow. They just love the slots.”
He flexed his jaw, and a vein pulsed in his temple. I recognized that tell as a precursor to Paul’s temper on the rise. The time had come to end this. He wasn’t going to say anything that would remotely make me feel any less used by a man in an authoritative position who took advantage of an innocent twenty-year-old girl, and I was stupid to think otherwise.
Rising to my feet, I motioned toward the door. “There’s nothing you can say, Paul. I want you to leave.”
“No.”
One short word, yet it was enough to send a tremor rushing through me.
“Nico will be here soon,” I lied. “It’s better for you if you’re not here when he arrives, especially after what you did last night. He’s furious, and I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”
Paul laughed, his eyes glittering dangerously. “You think I’m scared of a fucking cripple?” He threw his arms out to the side. “Let him do his worst.”
Anger burst within me. He could call me names all he liked, but Nico was not a cripple. I felt around for the lamp, my fingers curling around the cord.
“Nico is worth ten of you. He’s a better father to Rhett than you ever were or could ever be. He’s arranging a lawyer. A top lawyer. One who’ll make sure you never see Rhett again. Now get out or I’ll call the police.”
“Good luck with that plan, babe,” he declared. “Your cell is on the kitchen table. Let’s see if you can get by me.” He feinted, like a football player trying to stop an opponent from sprinting past.
My legs shook, knees virtually knocking together. “Stop playing games, Paul.”
His lips twisted cruelly. “Who said I’m playing games?”
He took a single step in my direction. I swung the lamp. It smashed against the side of his head, and he stumbled. I didn’t stick around to see if he was okay. I ran for the door. The chain came away easily, but as I twisted the lock, Paul’s hands slammed against the door on either side of my head. And then he grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked me backward. I screamed as loud as I could. Dorothy, please hear me.
“Shut up!” Paul yelled.
I saw his fist coming, but I didn’t move fast enough. It slammed into the side of my head, up by my temple. I fell, cracking my head on the corner of the coffee table. Nausea swirled in my gut, creeping into my throat. Paul loomed over me, his mouth moving, but I couldn’t make out the words.
My vision blurred, and darkness closed in.
Pain. Not a dull thump like the onset of a migraine. Agonizing, vicious pain. I forced my eyes to open. Why am I lying on the floor? Groaning, I tried to get up. I winced. Colorful spots danced in front of my eyes. Everything ached. My back, my hips. My ribs. I reached up to touch my head. Blood. My fingers were covered in blood. I extended my arm out, grabbed onto the edge of the sofa, and hauled myself up. Even that minor effort exhausted me. I slumped. The slightest movement sent fiery bursts of agony shooting through my temple.
I need help.
I rose to my feet, and the entire room swirled and spun. Feeling my way along the wall, I made it into the kitchen. I grabbed a cloth off the counter and ran it under the faucet, then pressed it to my head. After rinsing it out a few times, the bleeding stopped. I collapsed onto a chair, my gaze falling on my cell. I’d missed several calls from the school.
My stomach lurched, and I went cold.
Don’t panic. It might be something simple, like Rhett is unwell and they need me to come pick him up.
I returned the call.
“Mrs. Lawson. Thank goodness,” Principal Higgins said the second she answered the phone. “We’ve been trying to get hold of you. Is Rhett with you?”
I broke out in a sweat, ice filling my veins. The pain in my head forgotten, I sucked in little sips of air. “No,” I croaked. “Where is he? Where’s my baby?”
“He was on the playground at lunchtime. One minute he was there, and the next he wasn’t.”
Paul. There was no other logical answer. Paul had him.
“Call the police,” I rasped. “Call them right now. I’m on my way.”