Page 3 of Saving You

“No, of course not.”

I twist my chair and face the beautiful little girl who is drawing silently beside me. “Charlotte, can you tell me why you called 911?”

“Daddy was yelling at Mommy. She said ‘ow’ and Daddy kept yelling. He hit her. Mommy says we aren’t supposed to hit, we are supposed to use our words. Mommy was hurt. She needed help.”

“That was very good, Charlotte. You were very brave and smart to do that.” I look back at Bailey and give her a soft smile. “You have an amazing little girl here.”

She smiles back at me. Reaching out, she runs a hand over her daughter’s hair. “Yeah, I do.”

I pull one of my cards out of the breast pocket of my vest and hand it to Bailey. “This is my card. I want you to call me if you have any more issues. He’s going to be booked today, so he shouldn’t be a problem.” I turn to Charlotte again. “Charlotte, you did so well helping your mommy. It was nice to meet you.”

I slip out of my seat and stand. “Have a nice evening.”

Before I can turn for the front door, Charlotte is off her chair with her arms wrapped around my legs.

“Thank you for helping Mommy, Caleb.”

I look down at her and run my hand over the top of her hair. “You’re welcome, Charlotte.”

She unwraps her arms from around my legs, and I make my way to my cruiser and head to the station. The entire drive back, I have a niggling feeling in my gut like I left something back inside that house.

CHAPTER 2

Bailey

Iwatch as Officer Sutton walks out the front door and Charlotte gets back in her chair. She continues to draw quietly as I sit, my mind trying to process the day’s events. I shake my head before I can think too much about it. I need to be strong for Charlie. I look at the clock on the stove and realize it’s past dinnertime.

“Baby Girl, do you want mac and cheese for dinner?”

She looks up at me with a hopeful expression. “With hotdogs?”

“Yeah, with hotdogs.”

She nods enthusiastically.

I get up and make dinner. Luckily, I’m right-handed because my left is so sore, I’m not sure I’d be able to cook with it. When our food is done, I plate it and Charlie and I sit at the table to eat. When we finish, I take her upstairs for a bath, filling it with bubbles and her favourite toys. I stay in the washroom with her, knowing that as soon as I’m alone, the stony facade I’ve put up will crumble into a million pieces around me and I won’t be able to stand.

The feeling of my little girl curled into my side as I read hera bedtime story places a tiny patch on my very broken heart. Once she’s fallen asleep, I sneak out of her room and into my en-suite washroom.

I evaluate myself in the mirror. White Steri-Strips over my left eye and my split lip jump out at me, and I grimace, causing me to wince in pain. The marks on my face are tender, the redness is going down and the bruising colour is starting to appear.

I steel myself as I slowly remove my clothes, tossing them in my laundry hamper. I feel so ashamed for letting this happen. Not only did I put myself in this situation, but Charlie witnessed it. Turning on the shower, I wait for the water to warm before I step under.

The water immediately melts my walls, and I slump to the base of the shower as chest-heaving sobs escape me. My head rolls back and to the side. As the water washes over me, I watch it go down the drain along with what little strength I had left for the day. I sit under the water for what feels like forever.

When my sobs finally subside, I force myself to stand and wash my hair and body. I move gently over my sore spots, not wanting to aggravate them. Turning off the water, I change into my ugly comfy jammies and climb under the covers. I fall asleep hoping today was all a dream.

Owww, that’s the only thought that goes through my mind as I wake up. My head is pounding, my left eye is partially swollen, my mouth is dry, my upper lip hurts, and my left arm throbs where it was grabbed yesterday. I lie in bed, taking deep breaths. After a minute, I push myself to get up and slowly head to Charlie’s room. I peek my head in and seeshe’s still asleep. When I get to the kitchen, I make coffee before grabbing my phone and pulling up my best friend’s number.

“Hey, hun. How are you?” Lily answers.

“Okay, you?”

“I’m good. What’s up?”

“Can you do me a huge favour? Can you take Charlie for the weekend?”

“Of course, hun. What happened?”

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