Page 8 of Cinnamon Cider Whiskey
“You’re right, so I don’t need you throwing a punch.”
“I won’t promise you anything about that,” he muttered. “Any man who puts a hand on a lady is scum in my book.” He marched toward the front bedroom. “There are clean sheets on the bed. I’ll put your things in the room. I’m in the room behind the kitchen. If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to wake me. I’ll be up by dawn. I’m sure I can rearrange my work schedule.”
“I don’t want you to do that for me.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “You’re here now, so let me help.”
“Thank you.”
He kissed her forehead. “Try to get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” He closed the door behind him, leaving her in the bedroom alone.
The tears came hot and fast.
She’d made a mess of her life and she was only thirty-four years old. Rummaging through her suitcase, she found her pajamas and carefully slipped them on. Her entire body was covered in bruises. She ached from head to toe. The stab wounds hadn’t done any real damage, thank God. She’d been lucky Pete had been so drunk he could barely stand. That had been the only reason she’d been able to get away. She’d locked herself in the bathroom and called the police.
But Pete had managed to bust down the door. That’s when he attacked her with the knife. The cops arrived just as he stabbed her in the thigh, finally giving her the witnesses she needed to press charges. Pete wouldn’t be able to get away with it this time. He’d face real prison time and she would be strong and hold him accountable for his actions. She was done playing the victim.
After brushing her teeth, she found her cell charger. The nurse at the hospital had reminded her to turn off her location, but suggested she get a new cell. She’d do that tomorrow. For now, she felt secure that Pete couldn’t track the device. As soon as she lifted it from her purse, she noticed ten missed calls and twenty texts.
All from Pete.
Her heart dropped like a cement brick.
He was out already.
2
Austin climbed into bed and stared at the ceiling.
Cinnamon was back and the first thing he’d done was pick a fight. Or maybe she had, but it didn’t matter. They were right back to where they’d been fifteen years ago. There was so much unresolved conflict between them, and there shouldn’t be any issues anymore.
They both had made their choices.
“Austin.” Cinnamon came barreling into his room. She stood at the side of his bed with tears rolling down her battered face.
Rage filled his veins. If he ever saw Pete again, someone would have to restrain him because he couldn’t control himself.
He bolted upright. “What’s wrong?”
She held her phone out. “It’s Pete. Someone bailed him out.”
“In the middle of the night? How the hell did that happen?”
“I don’t know, but he has a lot of wealthy friends in high places. He’s been trying to reach me for the last hour. He’s left nasty voice and text messages.”
“Can I see?” He reached for the phone.
“Sure.”
He patted the side of his bed. “Sit down. Try to relax. I know it’s hard, but you’re safe here.”
“I’m not safe anywhere with him out of jail and those messages prove it.”
Austin started with the texts.
Pete:You bitch. I can’t believe you did this to me. I will get you for this. And if you think these stupid charges will stick, you’ve got another thing coming.
Pete:Answer your damn phone.
