“Hey, no. No. Stay. I’m glad you came here. Come in.” I hold out my hand and, to my surprise, she takes it and follows me into the house.
I fill a glass with water and hand it to her as she sits down on the couch. “What’s going on?”
Cecily lets out a drawn-out exhale, patting away the dampness on her cheeks. “I fucked up, and he knows I’m here. I gave my phone number to somebody who I thought was my friend and, I mean, shehadto have been the one to give it to him.Shit.I questioned even sending it to her in the first place—she hasn’t called—why did I even bother? He got the phone number, googled it, narrowed down my approximate location, and threatened to show up here. I don’t think he’ll know to look for me on the ranch, but what if he figures it out somehow? What if he shows up here?”
No clarification is needed about whoheis.
“Okay. It’s not your fault—we’ll deal with it if he shows up. It’s okay, though.”
“No, Austin, it’s not. It’snotokay. He’s going to come here and,”—her voice drops until it’s barely audible, despite the room being dead silent—“I’m scared he’s going to kill me.”
The blood coursing through me heats to its boiling point in an instant. “Over my dead body.”
Cecily blows air from her nostrils like she thinks I’m joking. I’m not. “I just… I don’t know. Never mind, my head’s a mess,” she says.
“Let me into your head. What’s going on?” I rip the bandana from around my neck, and kick off my boots, before sinking into the couch next to her.
“I don’t want you to feel like you need to be involved if I do.”
“Darlin’, you live on my property, and we’re friends, right? If there’s somebody who’s a threat to you, I’m already involved.”
She nods solemnly. “Okay, I guess I should start by telling you… I’m married.”
I drag my fingertips across my forehead as a sharp pain forms in my temple. There was an indent on her ring finger when she showed up here, but after all this time and no mention of it, I started to wonder if I had been seeing things.
Married.
I almost kissed a married woman. I was almost willing to risk getting my heart broken again… by a married woman.
“Well, separated. And, assuming he’ll sign the papers, divorced once I’m able to file for it. We have to be separated for a year before I can. I wanted to clarify because of… you and me.” The corner of her lip picks up for a brief moment as our eyes meet. “I met Beryl online, but not through a job board like she told everybody. We met in a forum for women escaping domestic violence.”
There’s that boiling blood again. My fists clench in my lap. When her eyes land on them, I see fear flash through her, causing me to release my fingers. And I flex them open instead. Splayed out across my thighs so I can feel the heated tension in each finger. The last thing I want is to be the source of more fear for her. I’m aware Beryl has a troubled past. She doesn’t talk in specifics about it, but I’ve caught enough vague comments over the years to know things were bad with her ex-husband. I hadn’t ever considered she could be talking to strangers online about it, though.
“Beryl and I texted every night for months after KJ—that’s his name—went to bed. She offered me a job and a safe place to stay, but I kept putting her off. I knew he wasn’t right to treat me like he did, but it’s not like he hit me. He could be really sweet, too, so I second-guessed whether I needed to leave when I wasn’t in danger. He did a lot of other things, but he didn’t ever hit me…”
I can tell what her next words will be by the quiver in her jaw and the slow lick of her bottom lip.
“Until he did, on the night I came here.”
Linking my fingers behind my neck, I stare up at the ceiling with a shaky exhale. Thick saliva pools in the back of my throat.
“Hehityou.” The words don’t feel real, even though I suspected he was the reason behind her tense muscles.
“It’s stupid, but I don’t think I would have even made it all the way to Wells Canyon if he had stopped there. I would’ve gone for a drive, cooled down, and then went home. At least he’s always remarkably loving for a while after we fight. But he was eerily calm while I packed up my stuff and, to be honest, that should’ve been my first clue. No way he’d let me go without a fight normally.”
My eyes focus on the knotted wood planks below us, following each groove to stop the angry pricking behind my eyelids.
“But he didn’t stop there?” I finally put my trembling hands to good use by grabbing hers. She looks like she needs a hug, and I’d love nothing more than to be the one to comfort her. Every tendon in my arms ache to grab her. If only I was convinced she would want it, too.
“No,” she whispers. “When I tried to leave… he had a gun. Threatened to shoot if I got in the car.”
Our collective breathing fills the otherwise soundless room for the next few seconds. Everything feels heavy, the air thick, and every bone in my body begs to be closer to her.
Fuck it, she needs a hug.
“I’m going to hug you. Okay?” I watch her intently, waiting for the slow, subtle nod.
Letting go of her hands, my fingertips skim up her arms before wrapping around her shoulders, drawing her to me. I ignore how taut she feels against my chest, holding a tight grasp, and letting her wet eyes soak through my shirt until I can feel her tears on my heart. Silently praying there’s a way I can absorb her anguish and take on her pain.