Page 60 of His Big Bad Stick

Before I hit the main road I slow down, then stop.

My hands tighten on the steering wheel.

“You haven’t told me what happened with your arm.”

“Oh,” she says. “Yeah. Right now?”

“Right fucking now.”

I turn off the truck, then fold my arms.

“I told you we were arguing,” she says. “He’s said stuff to me before about getting… physical. Threatening me. He kind of would do this fake lunge at me. The first few times it scared me, which was good enough for him. I got used to it. I stopped flinching. Well, this time when he did it, I laughed at him. He lunged again, but this time there was a bad look in his eyes. He wanted to hurt me, Colver. I moved out of the way, grabbed a piece of a frame and swung it at him. The corner almost cut his neck. It scared me how close I had come to doing something really bad. I stepped back and tripped over a piece of frame that had fallen onto the floor. I fell back, reached out and cut myself on a really big and sharp knife. It sliced my arm, then I freaked out and ran.”

“All that and you decided to come looking for me,” I say.

“That’s the story.”

“And what has this clown done since then?”

“You want to see the texts?”

“He texts. Right. Seems like the type that would text. Okay.”

I picture the scene in my head.

Now I am not going to sit and play judge and jury over Abrielle and her life.

But…

Now I am also not the nicest guy in the world myself. I am miserable and mean and I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks about that. I will spout off at the mouth and say stuff that hurts, but whatever I say is the damn truth. Or at least my version of it.

But to threaten a woman? To say you’re going to… hurt… with your bare hands or something else…

That kind of shit does make my blood boil.

Now whether I like it or not, there’s a simple fact in all of this and it’s that Abrielle Mallory matters to me.

Now before everyone goes and gets all mushy and their panties get all wet, I’m not saying she matters to me in a romantic way.

It’s just that our paths crossed at one point in time.

It’s just that her mother is a total fucking flake…

I open my mouth ready to ask her about her mother.

What the fuck, Colver? You’re not here to get to know her.

“It’s been tough,” Abrielle whispers. “I know I did this to myself. I’m not blaming anyone. I just…” She blinks fast. “How long does someone have to pay when it comes to a mistake?”

“Depends on the mistake, kitten,” I say.

I start the truck back up and begin to drive again.

I already have a plan in mind to help her.

I stand outside the gallery and really can’t believe my eyes.

It’s not that I doubt Abrielle… but then again… why not doubt her?