Chapter Thirty-One
Graham
"So,” I lean back, taking my drink with me. “There you have it. The whole fucking story.”
Elias looks beyond concerned, Rowan slightly guilty as he rakes a hand over his shaved head. “Mierda…” He releases a heavy sigh. “Is she going to be okay? Do we need to call someone—”
“I plan to send an anonymous tip to CPS and the local police first thing tomorrow,” I tell them. “Preferably from one of your phones if you’ll let me? I don’t know if it’s ever been done before and he’s just gotten away with it because of his position, but I can’t just do nothing.”
I suck at my teeth, still just holding the sweating glass between my palms. “Luckily, I don’t think she’s in any danger of him killing her. They’ve been together over fifteen years, and she didn’t seem too afraid.”
“But she’s also used to it,” Elias shook his head. “God, that poor woman. Graham, you can’t just take what she reveals as gospel—”
“I know, Eli,” I look up at him. “I don’t need a lecture from you about domestic abuse, okay?
I lived it. I’m going to do what I can just short of going to prison for murder.
Again. If nothing is done, I just… I’ll keep in contact.
I’ll try to get her to leave him. I’m sure her older kids were left money from her first husband.
” Just the thought him makes my grip tighten. “Maybe they’ll support her.”
I hope they will. They’d better after everything she went through to bring them into this world.
Sonya was groomed to be the perfect trophy wife.
She has no applicable skills that I can remember.
Fuck, I was shocked to learn she even knew how to drive.
I just pray the children she raised, the ones who would have grown up watching this man hurt their mother- who might even have learned the kind of man their father was- can help her out.
“I’m going to send her son a signed jersey from Cristian, and I’ll discreetly slip my number in there. Hopefully he reaches out. He sounded upset by our confrontation. Maybe he thought it was just between them again and will tell me everything if I can gain his trust—"
“You’re making a lot of assumptions about a nephew you’ve never met.” Rowan crosses his arms.
“Assumptions are all I have,” I sigh. “My sister is being abused. She’s been abused our entire lives and now that I know I’m not just going to pretend otherwise. I’m doing what I can within the bounds of the law.”
“Well,” Elias shrugs. “Aside from assaulting a cop.”
“Yeah…” I drag my hand through my hair. “That was admittedly really stupid. To be fair, I didn’t know he was a cop when I hit him.”
My friend sighs, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “We know, Graham. You were defending your sister. No one can fault you for that.”
“The Vegas Police Department can,” Rowan corrects.
“Okay,” Elias amends. “No one in this room can fault you for that. Five grand is nothing compared to a sister. Yours is lucky to be alive. Let’s find a way to keep it that way.
I’ll ask Mateo if he can work pro bono. We’ll find out if she’s willing to go through with a divorce.
I’ll even pay the fees if I need to, anything to help. ”
Tears fill my eyes and he squeezes my shoulder. “Hey,” I look up at him. “We take care of our family, Graham. You’re my family, and she is yours. Which makes her mine too. We’ll help you out.”
Nodding, I sniff back tears, swallow my watered-down drink and rise to my feet. I pull him into a tight embrace, “Gracias, amigo.”
“Just stop getting arrested, yeah?” Elias asks. “Especially on the nights of super important, life changing events?”
“Speaking of which,” Rowan finishes his drink. “I have a beautiful blond with my ring on her finger waiting in my bed.” He pats me on the shoulder. “I’ll see you assholes in the morning. Oyé, Graham, don’t cause any more trouble.”
“Scouts honor,” I hold up my hand.
Rowan snorts. “We both know you were never a scout- Don't you dare fucking salute me!"
My hand is already at my temple. “You got it, Sir.”
He rolls his eyes, yanking open the door to my room and stepping out into the hall with a muttered, “Singao.”
Elias gives my shoulders one last squeeze before releasing me to head to his own room. “Get some rest, Graham. We’ll deal with the rest tomorrow.”
Right. The rest. Calling his lawyer to get this scrubbed from my record.
Reporting my sister’s abuse anonymously.
Apologizing profusely to Clara for missing her wedding night, even if it was spur of the moment and I didn’t know they’d rush right into it.
I can only imagine how upset she must have been, how concerned Poppy was, that Naomi didn’t give a fuck at all.
Thinking of her gives me pause.
She hardly looked at me all night. From the moment we picked her up at the airport to the end of Clara’s performance, not a single glance my way.
Maybe it’s deserved for how I spoke to her this past spring, but didn’t she deserve that too.
Is it not high fucking time she feels the same shit she’s forced me to feel all these years?
And maybe it’s because the last thing I want to be tonight is alone, but I find myself heading for the door, bare footing it down the hall to her room.
I should hesitate before I knock. I should just turn around and head back to my room, but neither of those things happen.
My fist is solid against the door as I knock exactly three times.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
There’s a slight shuffle of sheets, feet padding across the floor. A pause. And then the door opens, revealing Naomi in a silk nightgown, robe, and a glass of wine in her hand.
“You look like shit,” she tells me and I snort out a laugh. “Fighting again, Graham? Really?”
“Drinking alone in your hotel room, Naomi? Really?”
She sucks at her teeth. “Where were you—”
“In jail, obviously.”
She dips her head. “For?”
Now it’s my turn to clench my teeth. “For punching the shit out of my sister’s abusive husband,” I tell her, which is clearly not what she expected to hear. “You gonna let me in or not?”
The door opens just a little wider and I step inside, taking her wine with me.
“Hey!” She protests but I finish the glass, setting it aside with the empty bottle.
She glares between the bottle and me before crossing her arms. “I thought you lost contact with your sister after you killed your grandpa—”
“I did. But I still looked her up every few years just to confirm she was alive.” I settle on the end of her bed.
“I knew she lived nearby and… I don’t know.
I wanted to see her. Maybe it was the Ballet or the incoming emotional bombshell of the evening, but I just didn’t want to put off seeing her again any longer… ”
I bow my head, massaging my palm with my thumb.
“She thought I was dead, you know? All these years. She just assumed I died. Never looked for me but looked almost relieved to see me alive.” A hollow laugh escapes my tight throat.
“She married that fucker who assaulted me. She didn’t know what he’d done- not the full extent anyway- but…
She still did. She had kids with him. A niece and a nephew I’ve never met. Who think I’m dead.”
“Graham—"
“She told me it was happening to her too,” I can’t stop now that I’ve started. “Not being sold, but she was being hit. Used in ways that would still keep her virginal. She never told me back then. We hardly ever spoke. If I’d known—”
“What?” Naomi takes my face in her hands, forcing me to look up at her. “What would you have done? Killed him sooner? Separated you two sooner? Thrown her to that man sooner? Nothing would be better for knowing, Graham. She was protecting you—”
“I should have protected her—“
“You did!” Her hands tighten. “You got her out when you did- even if it was in that man’s house- and that is the best you could have done back then.”
“I was her brother—”
“Her younger brother, Graham. You were seventeen. You can’t blame yourself for things that were done to either of you as children.”
“What about now?!” I gesture toward the windows where the lights of the strip shine brighter than the stars. “I just left her with him tonight—"
“Wait…” She blinks, her hands on my face firm, but shaking, actual fear clouding her blue eyes. “Graham… Did- Did you see him—”
“No.” My jaw clenches. “He died. Nineteen years ago. He’s dead.” A sigh of relief escapes her lips. “But she married again. A detective. And now he hits her too and I just… I left her there…”
“You listen to me, Graham Rosales,” she says through clenched teeth.
“If I know anything about you, you will be relentless about trying to make her safe until she’s either forced to get a restraining order or you…
” She laughs, actually laughs. “I was going to say give up, but we both know you are incapable of that.”
My eyes find the empty glass and bottle behind her. “Right…”
Naomi brushes her fingers through my hair, pulling a soft groan from my throat. “I’m sorry that she’s being hurt. And I’m sorry you got in trouble for defending her, but you will save her. If anybody can, it’s you.”
My eyes fall closed. “I’m sorry I missed the wedding.”
She laughs again. “Honestly, for a last-minute Vegas ceremony, it was pretty romantic. Fitting for them.”
I couldn’t agree more. Rowan and Clara have never taken a single thing slowly in their relationship.
It’s all been a straight path, no other destination but the alter since the day they first laid eyes on each other.
If only everything could be that simple.
If only everyone could find true love as wildly spontaneous as Elias and Poppy or as natural as Clara and Rowan.
How unfortunate that the world does not always work in such absolutes.
My arm bands around Naomi’s waist, anchoring her between my knees. “I didn’t actually think you’d let me in when I knocked,” I admit. “You ignored me all night long—”
“I didn’t ignore you—”
“You absolutely fucking did, don’t you even start denying it.” I level a finger at her, which she grabs some of that dominance returning to her frosty stare. “I’ve missed the fuck out of you—”
“Have you? Because I believe the last words you ever said to me were have an amazing flight back to Boston, bitch—”
“You’re admittedly infuriating and that’s actually a very positive message—”
“You called me a bitch—”
“You’re a fucking bitch, get over it.”
She laughs again, the kind that has her throwing her head back, her braids brushing my fingertips where they rest against the dip in her spine. And for the first time tonight I smile, really smile, up at the woman I have been hopelessly in love with the last two years.
“I really did miss you, mi reina…” I tell her, my other hand coming up to grip her hip. “Every fucking day without you is torture…”
“And yet you have survived,” she slow claps. “Bravo.”
“I take it back,” I roll my eyes. “You can burn in Hel- AH!” She grabs the back of my hair hard enough to yank out a few strands, tilting my head back.
“Don’t be a brat, Graham Cracker.”
“But it’s my whole aesthetic,” I grin.
She hums, looking me over from my t-shirt to my suit trousers already restraining my hardening cock. “Is that why you came here tonight? Pretty boy wants to play? To forget, just for a little while?”
I nod emphatically. “Yes, please.”
Naomi steps three paces back, out of reach of my grip. Then she snaps her fingers and points to the floor. I’m immediately sinking to my knees, trained to forever respond to her unspoken commands. She grins pearly white teeth down at me.
“Good boy,” she purrs. “Now,” she trails a finger along my jaw line, a shiver rolling down my spine. “What should I do with you first?”