Page 32 of Grind
My vision grays at the corners. I punch at his arm, disgusted by the weak sounds coming out of my throat.
“Pathetic,” he sneers. “Convenient that I can blame this on the Doyles, though.”
Then his eyes widen in surprise as an arm wraps around his neck. He releases me and I hit the floor. To him, I’m just another object to treat carelessly. Numb, I pull my inhaler out of my apron pocket. I should be stunned by the spectacle in front of me. Connor.
He’d texted me that he might stop by today so we could talk.
“You son of a bitch,” Connor snaps, tightening his grip on Brooks. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s wrong to hit women?” The rage in his eyes terrifies me. He leans in closer, his voice stone cold against the anger radiating off him.
“Big fucking man beating on a tiny woman. How does it feel?” he shouts.
Brooks’s eyes are rolling back in his head, his lips turning blue. Puffing on my inhaler, I fight to keep from closing my eyes. Don’t want to see this, don’t want more images of Connor hurting people. Not even Brooks, who deserves it more than most.
“Connor,” I whisper. “Stop.”
Brooks sags to the floor, but Connor isn’t relenting. “Don’t you ever fucking touch her. She’s mine.”
The possessiveness in his voice unsettles me, especially given what I have seen from him in the last couple of days. Still, I don’t want him to get in trouble because he’s protecting me.
“Connor!” I say, more forcefully this time. Rhonda comes through the swinging doors to the back with Gus.
Something in Connor breaks, and he drops Brooks, pushing him aside with a look of disgust. He rushes over to me, kneeling down and pulling me against his solid body. He’s warm, and I let myself lean against him, knowing the safety I feel in his arms can’t last.
“Ava.” His voice is heavy.
“Are you all right? I’m so sorry.” He strokes my hair gently. It’s easy – and impossible - to forget that he just choked a man out seconds before.
“Connor.” Tears burn my eyes. “You have to go.” Police sirens wail in the distance, and I imagine Rhonda called them here.
“I’m not leaving you,” he says, his fingers gliding over my neck. “You need to get this checked out.”
“Connor,” I plead. “I can’t do this. I don’t know if I can handle… this.”
My hand gestures toward Brooks, lying on the floor, gasping for air.
His body stiffens. I look up at his face. No sign of those dimples I love so much. He relaxes his hold on me.
“Ava,” he says. “It’s not so black and white.”
The hard lines relax for just a second, revealing a hint of vulnerability. “Ava, I want to be with you.”
God.
“Go!” I shout, pushing away from him. I can’t bear to see the police take him, and I can’t handle what’s happening right now. “Connor, leave.”
The sirens get louder, screaming with an urgency that tells me they’re really close.
“I don’t run from things, Ava,” he says, his voice low and serious. He looks over at Rhonda and gently helps me into a booth. “But I also never stay where I’m not wanted.”
I sag against the cheap vinyl.
“I meant what I said. Look after her?”
Rhonda nods and slides into the booth next to me, wrapping her arm around my shoulder. Connor turns around, stepping over Brooks like he isn’t even there. He’s gone by the time the police arrive.
My heart seems to shatter as I watch him go.
13
