39. Let’s Cut Him Out Then
Let’s Cut Him Out Then
Nick
Heated blood rushed through my veins, filled with adrenaline, rage, and years of pent-up frustration. I wanted to kill him.
When Kacey ran into the clinic, yelling my name, I dropped my instruments and left Lance alone to finish the surgery without a word. I just knew.
I ripped off my gown and gloves, making cleaning them up somebody else’s problem. I didn’t care.
I rushed out and saw him, his hand around her throat, her head pulled back by her hair, and I didn’t have another thought before I tore him away from her and laid him out. The first hit knocked him back, and I didn’t give him a chance to recover before I hit him again. That time, he dropped to the floor, blood pouring from his mouth and nose, and I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to beat him into the ground, but she stopped me. Her sweet voice pulled me back from the brink and reminded me that I was not like him. I’m not like my father.
Now, as we make our way up the stairs, my body still vibrates with the urge to go down to the station and convince Bree to give me some time alone with the little bitch, but I need to be here, with her, and for that, I need to calm the fuck down.
Missy doesn’t need another overbearing, aggressive man on a testosterone high. She needs me, just me.
‘Come on, honey.’
She doesn’t say anything as I guide her into my place and to the sofa. She sits, and I crouch to a squat in front of her.
‘I’m going to get my first aid kit, okay?’
Nothing. Her eyes don’t even meet mine as she stares at her hands in her lap.
I retrieve the kit and turn on the ceiling light. She winces at the sudden brightness, and it reminds me to get her some water. Her head has to be pounding right now. I get her a glass of water, then pull up the footstool in front of her, sitting and reaching out to raise up her chin.
She lifts her face up, and it takes a while for her eyes to meet mine, but when they do, I almost crumble .
She looks exhausted, drained, broken even. My mom never looked that way, not once that I remember. She always switched straight into defend dad mode.
‘Honey, I need to clean up this cut, okay?’ I ask softly, and she just swallows, her eyes closing as though it hurts. Then I remember his grip on her throat. ‘Your throat hurts?’ She gives a quick nod, and her eyes fill with tears. ‘Do you have Tylenol at your place for Jonah?’
‘Um,’ she nods again, and I stand as there is a knock on the door, and she jumps in her seat, her eyes widening, and I hold up my hands.
‘It’s okay, honey, it’s okay. Bree has him at the station. It’s not him.’
I back away toward the door and open it to find Kacey standing there.
‘Hi, Nick,’ she smiles softly, then holds out a purse and my cell phone. ‘You both left all your things downstairs. I thought you might need your phones.’
I release an exhale and reach out for our belongings.
‘Thanks, Kacey.’
‘How is she?’ she asks softly, and I shrug, not wanting Missy to hear herself being discussed, and Kacey gets it. ‘Take care of her, okay? I’ll take care of the salon. Tell her not to worry about a thing down there.’
‘Thank you. I appreciate that.’
As Kacey backs away and heads down the stairs, I fish Missy’s keys out of the side pocket in her purse, where I know she keeps them because she hates them getting lost at the bottom.
‘Miss, honey, where will I find the Tylenol?’ I ask, and she inhales deeply.
‘Bathroom.’
I nod and head out of my apartment and across to hers.
In her bathroom, I grab her toothbrush and Jonah’s, the medicine, and some toiletries for her. Then I head to her bedroom and get her some pajamas, underwear, and fluffy socks, which I know she loves to sleep in. I make my way into Jonah’s room and do the same, getting him PJs, underwear, clothes, and his favorite stuffed toy before heading back across the hallway.
I see her startle as I enter the room, but she settles when her eyes meet mine.
‘I got you some things.’ Placing them down on my table, I take my spot in front of her once more and open the bottle of medicine. ‘I thought this would be easier to swallow than pills. ’
A grateful expression turns up her lips the tiniest bit, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. She swigs straight from the bottle, and I ignore my years of training in drugs and dosages. She needs pain relief, and I need to know she’s okay.
Opening the first aid kit, I take out an alcohol wipe and start to clean the cut on her lip so that I can see if she needs any stitches.
There’s already a lot of swelling, and as I clean away the blood, I can see that the cut, while not good, is pretty clean. She doesn’t need suturing, but she does need ice.
‘Honey, you need some ice on this swelling.’
‘Can I take a shower?’
I exhale and nod. ‘Of course.’
Standing, I hold out my hands to her and help her up. Then, not releasing her hand, I lead her to the bathroom and turn on the water.
‘I got you some things from your place. Hold on.’ I run to grab her stuff, and when I come back, I find her undressing. I look away, knowing her boundaries with her body. ‘I’ll leave this here for you, okay?’
She doesn’t respond, so I back away and let her shower. Picking up my phone, I prepare to call Doug when there’s a knock at my door, and I hang my head. I need a minute to process what the fuck happened tonight, but that minute doesn’t seem to be coming.
Opening the door, I find Doug and Cara in the hallway, and I glance back to make sure Missy isn’t in earshot.
‘Guys,’ I breathe, relief at seeing them pouring out of me.
‘How is she?’ Cara rushes out.
‘Mama told us what happened,’ Doug adds.
‘I’m going to kill him,’ Cara says, tears in her eyes and a tremble in her voice.
‘She’s okay. She’s in the shower, and not before I get my hands on him.’ I shake my head, then remember they are supposed to be taking care of Jonah. ‘Where’s Jonah?’
‘Mama said she’d watch him and Bo while we came over.’
‘Do you have a key to her flat so we can get him some things?’ Cara asks, and I remember the stuff I picked up.
‘I got it already. Hold on.’ Handing over the things, I meet Cara’s gaze, and she smiles so softly, so small.
‘Thank you for taking care of her, Nick.’
‘Always,’ I answer without hesitation. ‘I’ll call y’all tomorrow.’
After saying goodbye to my friends, I sit on the sofa with my head in my hands. He wanted to kill her. I’m sure of that. Her feet were pretty much off the ground as he squeezed her throat, and the sight of her like that, his hands on her the way they were, will haunt me for the rest of my life.
The soft click of the door leading to the hallway that houses the bedrooms and bathroom has me looking up to see Missy approaching, not wearing the pajamas I got for her, but wearing one of my t-shirts and some shorts.
‘Do you mind?’ she asks as she approaches, pulling at the shirt as I ignore the strained sound of her voice. Her hair is wrapped in a towel, and she has on the fluffy socks.
‘Not at all.’ I open up my arms to her and she sits on the sofa, then leans into my side.
‘I can’t talk anymore,’ she says softly, and I don’t say another word. Instead, I lift up my cell and play some music through the speaker system I paid way too much money for.
‘I’ve got you, Miss,’ I say, leaning in to press a kiss to the top of the head resting against my shoulder. ‘Whatever you need, I’ve got you.’
Waking with a start, I reach out into the empty space next to me. Missy was there — when she asked me to hold her, I led her to my bed and did just that. I pulled her body against mine, covered us with the blanket, and let her cry until her sobs softened and sleep took her under.
Her soft breath pulled me down with her, her warmth impossible to ignore, and I slept soundly until that warmth disappeared, and I woke up cold and alone.
‘Missy,’ I say into the dark as I sit up, my eyes adjusting. ‘Miss?’
Silence. She’s not here.
Pushing up out of bed, I search my place, but there’s no sign of her. Did she go home?
The idea makes me feel sick. I want her with me. I want to keep her safe, and I want to know she’s okay.
Heading out into the hallway, I knock softly on her door. No answer. I lean my head forward, resting it against the cool wood of the door, then I hear the faint sounds from downstairs like someone moving around, and I know where she is.
Finding myself entering the salon from the stairwell entry, I freeze when I see her sitting at one of the stations, her long hair spilling over her shoulders, her cutting scissors in her hand, her gaze fixed on her reflection.
‘Missy, honey, what’s going on?’
She startles slightly at my voice, but her attention remains fixed.
‘It’s as if it’s burning.’
‘What is?’
‘My hair.’ She inhales sharply, and I start to approach slowly and quietly. ‘When he burned his name into my skin, it hurt, but I didn’t cry. He wanted me to — maybe if I had, he would have stopped — he would have got what he wanted and stopped, but I refused to give him that.’
I stay quiet. She’s not looking at me, just staring at her reflection, clutching the scissors, and I know she needs the freedom to just talk this out.
‘Once he was asleep, passed out drunk, that’s when I cried. I hid in the bathroom and cried as quietly as I could so that he didn’t hear me. I cleaned it and applied ointment and a dressing. I still feel it, you know, the pain. Not really, obviously, it’s just a memory of the pain, but it’s so real. Every time I see it, I feel it all over again. That’s why I hide it because letting other people see would make that pain so unbearable, and I don’t know how I’d cope with that.’
‘Missy…’
‘And now it’s my hair. He always pulled my hair to get me to look at him or to drag me to where he wanted me. I never thought too deeply about it until you.’
I swallow hard as she glances up, and I meet her gaze in the mirror.
‘You touch my hair with so much affection. Even when you pull it, it’s with this gentleness, this desire that made me feel like a goddess. He erased all that tonight, and I can’t shake it off this time. The way he grabbed my hair and yanked it as though he wanted to rip it out has tainted all of it. I feel like there’s an imprint, a burning mark left behind.’
Tears roll down her cheeks, and I approach slowly, coming to stand behind her and reaching out to grab the hair tie from the glass shelf in front of her. Without words, I pull her hair into a low ponytail and reach my hand forward again for the scissors from her hand. She raises her gaze to meet mine once more, and I bend down to kiss the top of her head.
‘Let’s cut him out then.’
She nods once, her bottom lip trembling as I bring the scissors to the top of the hair tie and cut .
Missy’s hair falls loose as I cut, uneven strands that sit just below her jaw and she brings her hands up to cover her face as she cries.
‘Come on, honey,’ I say, holding out my hand in front of her and as she raises her watery eyes at me, I smile softly, and she takes my hand.
Walking Missy over to the basin I tell her to sit as I grab a towel and wrap it around her shoulders, then gently encourage her to lean back. I turn on the water and, using skills I haven’t even thought of in so long, I gently wash her new shorter hair, massaging her scalp, replacing his touch with mine as she lays there, eyes closed, tears slowly making their way out from under her eyelids.
I turn off the water and squeeze moisture from her hair into the towel before taking her hand again and bringing her back to the chair. I brush her hair, and as I reach out for the scissors once more, her hand comes to my wrist, and she looks up at me. Her eyes are still sad, and I fucking hate that.
‘I’ve got you, honey.’
Without me giving her anything, she trusts me. He doesn’t try to stop me, removing her hand and letting me raise up the comb and scissors and start to shape the uneven bob into something as beautiful as she deserves.
‘It’s short.’ She reaches up to feel the hair at the back of her neck as we sit on my bed.
‘It is.’
‘You loved my hair.’
‘I still do. It was never about your hair, Miss.’ I smile, and she drops her gaze. ‘It’s just hair, honey. It’ll grow if you want to let it.’
‘I let him win.’ She swallows hard, and I shake my head.
‘No, you won, Miss. You stood tall, and you moved forward.’ I reach out for her hand.
‘But I cut my hair.’ She sobs as though it’s a disappointment, as though cutting her hair shows weakness.
‘You cut him out. He’s a thorn you removed, venom you sucked out. You won, Missy.’
‘ Nick .’
‘I’ve got you. I told you that.’
Leaning back against the pillows, I open my arms to her, and she moves in, hugging her body to my side, her head and hand resting on my chest.
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’
She wraps her arm around my waist, and I feel like a prick for loving it so much, but I missed this. ‘I didn’t know you knew how to cut hair.’
I release a small laugh. ‘I’ve been cutting hair since I was twelve.’
‘You keep surprising me.’
‘I hope so,’ I say softly. I really do.
‘Stay with me.’
‘Of course.’
‘I like you, Nick.’ Her voice is a whisper against my chest, and I lower my lips to the top of her head.
‘I like you too, sweetie.’