Vic turns around, his voice low and deadly calm. “Good. We’ll beat his ass too.”
The restaurant manager quietly ushers us through the back door, shielding us from prying eyes.
Gary pulls up fast, his face falling the moment he sees us.
“Vic? Ms. Kind?” Panic laces his voice.
“Gary, just drive us home.”
With my body aching, exhausted, and raw, I sink into my seat. I close my eyes, but I can still feel him. He’s still here, in my bones, in my bruises, in the way my heart still pounds.
“I ruined the night.” I whisper, my self-loathing creeping in like poison squeezing the air from my lungs.
“No,” he says firmly, “he ruined apartof our night. You were perfect. You always are.” He leans in, his thumb hovering over my busted lip, jaw flexing and hands shaking as he forces himself to stay in control. “I can’t believe he did this to you.”
Vic pulls me into his lap, holding me like he’s afraid I might slip through his fingers. But Vic needs to know something. Though he can’t believe Cory did this to me, I can.
He presses his lips against my forehead, and when our eyes meet, my words spill out, raw, broken, and filled with emotion.
“You remember when you asked me how I liked to be touched? I genuinely didn’t know because these are the only touches I’ve ever felt. The pain from these bruises is the only sensation I’ve ever experienced through my body.” My voice breaks.
More tears spill over, and my voice drops to a whisper so fragile, so hopeless. ‘“I’ll never escape him, Vic. He’ll always be in my life, and now he’s in yours, too. I should just give him what he wants. I don’t want to put you or the girls in danger. I don’t want to bring my mess into your lives.”
His hold on me tightens. Then, he grips my chin, gently but firmly, forcing me to look at him.
“You’re not giving him a goddamn thing. He’s a coward who’s trying to take your power. He wants you tothinkyou’re broken. He wants you to think he’s won. But that man’s been a loser since the day he was born, and he’s been broken ever since he realized he’s nothing without you. You hold all the power, Kerry Kind. And if you tell me you want him gone, I’ll do everything in my power to make it happen.”
I breathe in deeply, then release a long exhale. Laying my head against his chest, I nod. “Let’s take him down, Vic.”
He doesn’t say anything else. He simply embraces me, and I allow myself to drift into sleep, feeling safe, protected, and at ease knowing that the last touch I feel tonight isn’t pain, or fear, or the past. It’s him. It’s Victor Grimes.
Chapter 22
Her Last Touch – Vic
When I step through the front door with Kerry still cradled in my arms, the first thing I hear is laughter—loud, warm, and filling the space more than usual. Mom’s voice is at the center of it all.
“The lovebirds are back!” she calls from the other room, her voice drawing nearer. “We have a full house tonight! I’m sure you two have a funny story to—”
She stops dead in her tracks the second she turns the corner. Her eyes land on Kerry’s limp body in my arms, asleep but hurt.
The room stills. Laughter dies. And all that’s left is suffocating silence.
Mom’s gaze roams over the bruises blooming across Kerry’s face, the busted lip, the tension still coiled in my body, barely held together by restraint.
“Vic.” She gasps. “What happened?!”
Grace’s body locks up, her hands trembling at her sides. “My baby girl. Not again.”
Serena, Kiera, Izzy, and their husbands all react at once, stiffening and exchanging furious looks while Hudson is speechless.
Mom’s voice sharpens. “Who did this to her?”
Without hesitation, without a second thought, Kerry’s friends, the women who know her pain, who know her story, speak as one.
“Cory.”
Mom exhales. Then, a barely audible mumble slips past her lips.