Page 8 of Formula Freedom
Her eyes shine with emotion. “Please don’t—don’t make a scene here.”
“I’m not,” I say tightly. “But if you tell me Lance did that, I swear to God, I’m going to kill him.”
“Then I won’t tell you he did it,” she snaps angrily, then her voice immediately fills with contrition, cracking with emotion. “I’m sorry… I just need a place to breathe, okay? I’m not asking for anything else. I don’t need you to fix it. I just… I didn’t know who else to call.”
I take a breath. I know Lance did this and every instinct in me says to go over to his hotel right now and handle things. I want to kill him. No question. But this moment isn’t about me—it’s about her, so I table my plans for murder.
Besides, right now, she looks like she might shatter and that must take priority.
“I’ve got a two-bedroom suite upstairs,” I say. “Come up. You can stay as long as you need. No pressure. Just talk to me.”
She hesitates, then nods.
I take her suitcase, turn for the elevator, and she follows me. I don’t miss the way her eyes scan the lobby, cutting back more than once to the door.
It prompts me to ask, “Does he know you came here?” She shakes her head and that right there confirms what I knew in my heart… Lance did this to her. “Where is he now?”
“He probably thinks I got a rental car and I’m headed back to Torquay, but I don’t know. Maybe he’ll guess I came to you.”
“You’re safe here,” I reassure her. “He doesn’t know where I’m staying.”
She only nods again, quiet as a mouse as we step into the elevator.
The suite is still, perched on one of the upper floors with wide windows overlooking the city skyline. Leaving her suitcase by the door of one of the bedrooms, I lead her into the living room and gesture toward the couch. “I’ll get you some water.”
She sinks down slowly, her shoulders hunched. Lara’s hands are clasped tight on her lap and she looks so brittle, I fear she’d shatter into a thousand pieces in a light wind.
I come back with a cold bottle, and she takes it with a whispered “Thanks,” holding it in both hands but not opening it. She contemplates the bottle for a moment, then touches the cold plastic to the red imprint on her cheek.
“I’m not trying to push,” I say, easing onto the opposite end of the couch. “But I need to understand what I’m looking at.”
Lara’s eyes close, and she draws in a long breath. When she speaks, her voice is quiet. Controlled. “I have to tell you… I’m just so embarrassed by all this.”
“Don’t be,” I admonish. “You can’t control what he does to you.”
Her eyes flash with anger. “See… that’s just it. I let him do this. I’ve allowed him to treat me horribly, and then tonight, he thought he had the right to slap me.”
My hands curl into fists, but I don’t say a word. I let her get it out.
“It didn’t start like this. Not even close. Lance was… charming. Supportive. He was there for me after uni when I wasn’t sure what I was doing or where I wanted to go. And he made it easy. Familiar.”
I ignore the tightening in my gut. I could have been the one who was there for her, but I didn’t take the chance when I had it.
“It wasn’t bad at first. Little comments, possessive moments, but nothing that felt serious. And then we got engaged.” Her laugh is humorless. “That’s when it shifted. Like a switch was flipped inside of him and suddenly I became… property.”
She rubs her arm absently, her fingers brushing over the fresh bruises like she’s trying to convince herself they’re really there.
“He started checking my texts. Asking where I was all the time. Didn’t want me traveling for work. Said it wasn’t necessary. The behavior was concerning but I made excuses for him. I told myself he was stressed, that he loved me too much.” She looks up, eyes full of quiet shame. “And I didn’t want to let down my parents. Or yours, for that matter. Our families are so entangled I didn’t even know how to end it without causing fallout.”
“You don’t have to explain that part to me,” I murmur. “I know exactly how tight our families are.”
“I wanted out, Reid. I have for a while, but I couldn’t figure out how to do it and not… set him off.”
“Tonight was the first time he’s ever hit you?” I ask tentatively.
She nods. “It’s mostly been just verbal abuse. Sometimes he’ll grab me hard, but he’s never struck me until tonight.”
“What happened after you two left the party?”
