Page 80 of And Then Came You

I won’t give him the satisfaction of crying out. That would be too much of a thrill for this sadist. Instead, I whirl to face him, my body shaking with rage.

“How dare you lay a hand on me,” earns me another pop. This time, for fun, he kept his hand closed.

Stars explode behind my eyes as a searing pain tears through my head. A third punch lands squarely on my jaw, and I stumble backward with the sickening realization that I might not make it out of here.

Struggling to remain standing, I flinch against the blinding pain, my vision blurred from his blows. I spy a gate at the far end of the patio.

My escape, if only I can make it that far.

The patio door opens and a couple strolls outside, shooting looks of concern in our direction. The low lighting serves as a blanket for the damage Damian has inflicted on my face, but these strangers know from our posturing that something is amiss.

“You two okay?” the woman questions, maintaining her distance.

“She’s fine,” Damian reassures her, slipping an arm around my shoulder in an artificial show of concern. “She drank too much. Feeling a bit ill.”

Taking advantage of the strangers’ presence, I twist from Damian’s grip and dash out the gate, into the night.

I hear him calling me, but I don’t stop. Ducking into the nearest subway station, I jump onto the first train. I’ve no idea where the train is going. All I know is it’s taking me away from Damian.

Garnering all my strength to focus on the task at hand, I disembark and switch trains, headed for the Plaza Hotel. Caroline wanted me to visit. I’m positive this isnotwhat she meant.

But I need help. I can’t make it back to the Hamptons. Not like this.

Even in Manhattan, my bruised and bleeding face draws stares. I pull my hair down like a veil, shielding me from the onlookers’ gazes.

The rain is pouring down in sheets when I exit the subway, soaking everything in its path, but I welcome the icy sting against my skin. It detracts from the pounding in my brain and throbbing in my face. Tonguing the corner of my lip, I taste blood. Wonderful.

It’s only a few minutes walk to the hotel, but I’m sopping wet by the time I reach the entrance.

Then I stop. I can’t walk through the lobby of the Plaza Hotel like this. There’s no way they’ll let me head, unbidden, to Caroline’s room.

I pull out my mobile, dialing my friend. My only hope is she’s here.

“Hey, stranger.”

“Caroline, I’m outside the Plaza.”

“Great. Come on up.”

“I can’t… I can’t walk through the lobby like this.” Every word enhances the aching in my jaw.

“Like what?” I hear her getting up and closing a door. “Lexi, what happened?”

“I need help.” It’s all I can manage.

“Stay there. I’m coming right down.”

I huddle under the overhang in a futile attempt to stay dry. No point really, I’m soaked through to the bone, my entire body shaking from the chill. A couple passes me by, averting their gazes when they see my face and sodden attire.

They likely think I’m a streetwalker, beaten up by her pimp.

Caroline steps out the front door, dry under a massive umbrella. She scurries over when she catches sight of me, her eyes widening in shock. “Lexi, my God, you’re soaked.” Then she sees my face. “Holy shit.”

“I can’t make it home like this. Will you help me?”

Caroline wraps an arm around my shoulder, bringing me in a side door. Women get it, even with no words spoken. Me slinking through the lobby of the Plaza will garner all sorts of attention I don’t need. “Come on, let’s get you upstairs and get you warm. Oh, honey,” she murmurs, her face gingerly touching my broken skin.

Now the tears arrive. I can’t be sure if it’s because I’m outside Damian’s reach or the reality of what occurred is finally sinking in, but the salty drops roll down my face, stinging my wounds.

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