Page 40 of Unexpected

“Hazel, we can’t—”

“I’m serious. I can’t do this.” I whipped around and peered up at Luke so he could see the seriousness on my face while hearing the conviction in my voice.

I knew I should call the police and report him, but every time I thought about turning him in, the only thing that ran through my mind were memories of each good time we spent together. Because there were good times. And I imagined what it would do to his family and how much it would crush his parents, who were my parents’ best friends. Our lives were inexplicably intertwined and after spending so many years with him and growing up beside him, I couldn’t fathom ruining his life.

The frustration was evident in Luke’s eyes. His lips were a sharp, set line, and I could tell he was holding back as he clenched his jaw.

“I understand, but I just can’t do it right now. Okay?”

He nodded and crossed his arms over his chest right in front of my face. I had the urge to run my fingers over the intricate black tattoos and trace each individual line and follow the shading over his skin.

“Maybe I should go speak to him then,” he seethed.

His words were like a bucket of cold water unexpectedly being poured over my head. “Absolutely not.”

It wasn’t an option. I flashed back to Luke threatening to kill Michael the night before—there was a gravity to his voice that made each word sound like a promise, not a veiled threat of violence. I knew what would happen if they met once again.

“I will not let him hurt you again, Hazel. And if that means that I step in, then I will without hesitation.” He took a half step closer to me, watching my face intently. I had to tilt my head up even higher to maintain eye contact.

Another promise.

“I didn’t mean to put you in the middle of this.”

He shook his head and said, his tone suddenly softer. “You didn’t put me in the middle of anything, Angel.” I couldn’t breathe when the term of endearment slipped between his plump lips. He uncrossed his arms and slipped one of his hands into mine. His brow furrowed and his voice was tight as he said, “I have to go to work, but I need you to do one thing for me.”

I watched him, wanting to swipe a finger between his eyebrows and erase the concern, the tension.

“Stay here. Don’t go over there no matter what.” I heard and felt the protectiveness in his voice and through the way he squeezed my hand. I tried to hide the emotion I felt at hearing the unrestrained urgency in his voice. I knew it wasn’t an act, and for his own reasons—whether it be because I had endured what I had or for his own personal qualms—he wanted me to be safe.

“Okay,” I said. I didn’t think it was necessary to tell him that I hadn’t planned on going home until I knew Michael would be gone for a good long while.

Some of the concern on his face was scrubbed away by my compliance. “Okay,” he said as well before running his thumb in a circle on the back of my hand, giving me a tight smile and letting Josh know that he’d be home later.

Thirty minutes later, Luke had left for work and Josh was dozing on the couch while I was pacing the length of the kitchen. The tile was cool on my bare feet, and the house was a comfortable temperature, however, the sweat I had washed off from my nightmares that morning had returned. It dripped down my back and pooled underneath my breasts.

Sadie strode by my side, her nails tapping the tiles back and forth for a while until she got tired and curled up next to Josh.

Ten a.m., Michael was supposed to be at our house then, and with each minute that ticked by, the deeper I had to dig to keep the panic at bay. My eyes darted to the clock on the oven across the room as I heard an engine rev outside.

Right on time. He was always so punctual.

I stole a quick glance toward the couch to make sure Josh was still asleep before I padded into the front room. I hid just next to the window as Michael climbed out of his car wearing the same outfit from yesterday—tan joggers and a green T-shirt, except the hoodie he was also wearing was tied around his waist. Probably to cover the blood I knew was smeared on the side of those pristine pants.

Getting his pants dirty had earned me another slap for “good measure,” he’d said.

He stomped through the grass, completely bypassing the walkway. His eyes darted around as he approached the house, and I tucked myself farther into the corner I was in, making sure I wasn’t visible in the slightest.

He disappeared onto the porch, and I immediately headed toward the other side of Luke’s house. Sadie saw me heading to Luke’s bedroom and jumped off the couch to follow me. She panted softly and nudged me with her nose on my calf as we hurried down the hallway. I stepped into Luke’s room just as Michael stepped into ours.

I dropped to the floor before he could see me, directly in front of the window, and I reached to open the blinds just a little more. He’d moved through the house so quickly that I wasn’t prepared.

I was barely able to grab the cord with my fingertips but yanked it down. The blinds opened, and I peeked over the edge of the window. I felt ridiculous.

Michael must have left the room, so I took the opportunity to find a better vantage point. To my left was Luke’s bathroom—still as clean as it was the other night—and I hurried in that direction. I stopped at the doorframe and crouched a little. From that position, there was no way Michael could see me unless he walked to the window and looked closely.

Just as I got into position, Michael strode out of the bathroom in different clothes and holding a suitcase. He dug through the drawers, chucking stuff over his shoulder before going back into the bathroom and returning with dress shirts on hangers and a plethora of slacks. He carefully folded each piece of clothing and arranged it in the suitcase. The suit jackets he stuffed into the hanging bag I bought him only a few weeks ago when I noticed his old one was worn down.

The suitcase open on our bed was the one Michael bought for me when we moved to Austin. I was excited about our new chapter, but I was nervous about leaving the only place I’d ever called home. He bought me the suitcase—it was dark blue with a built-in charger—and told me, with the sweetest smile, that he’d pay for any plane ticket back to Nashville whenever I wanted.

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