Page 7 of Defended By Bam
“Oh, yeah. Rogers’ cousin up in Ontario mentioned something when we were up that way. Why?” I shot to my feet. “Who the fuck hurt you? You don’t need to change shit. I’ll fucking handle it.” Staring down, my muscles shaking as adrenaline pumped through me, I waited for her to say something.
“Bama, seriously, do you think I wouldn’t immediately call you if something happened to me? Get real. I’m fine. Nobody did shit to me.”
“Then what the fuck are you going on about, Allie?” My hands raised in the universal what-the-fuck fashion.
She opened her mouth, but before she said anything a small knock on the door interrupted.
My hand went to my piece, but she jumped up, shoved me out of the way, and went to the door.
“Oh, hey,” she said. “C’mon in. Hey, you.”
Still waiting to see who she just invited in, I backed down when I saw a little blonde girl peeking around her legs. But when I looked up to see who she came with, my jaw tightened.
A woman with bright blue eyes and light brown hair pulled into a ponytail stepped inside, and Allie stood with her. She held a bag in one hand and the little girl’s hand in the other. But that wasn’t what had my blood boiling. Her face was fucked. Busted lip, black eye, bruises up her arms, and marks on her neck from fingers squeezing.
“Shit, I mean, damn. I mean…Allie, can I speak to you back there?” I asked, pointing to the back room.
Allie looked at the guests. “Y’all take a seat. I’ll be right back.”
The woman and the girl didn’t sit, and the woman pulled the girl closer as we walked down the hall.
Allie shut the door to the extra room and I put my hands on my hips. “What the fuck happened to her. Wait, no,” I said as I swiped my hand through the air. “Who the fuck are they?”
“I’d seen her before at the library and always thought she was being beaten, but I’d never seen her face like that.”
“You go to the library?” I asked.
“You’re such a dick.” She waved her hands around. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is I was meeting a client at a gas station last night, a little later than now, and I saw her. It was fresh last night. I tried to get her to come with me then but she was nervous and said she couldn’t leave the car.”
“Okay, so what the fuck is she doing here?”
“She needs a new identity. Her and her kid.”
Fuck.
Chapter 4
Brooklyn
What the hell was I doing? Maybe I could get Allie to give me a ride home. This was insane.
I was broken from my internal argument when Sadie tugged on my shirt. “Mommy, I need to pee,” she whispered.
“Oh, okay, sweet girl. Hold on because I don’t know where it is, and it’s not polite to wander around someone’s house.”
“May I sit down?”
“Yep, sit right here,” I said as I guided her to a comfy looking chair in the corner.
The conversation from the back room kept getting loud then soft again. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but I was seriously unsure of what had me thinking this was a good idea.But when I looked down at Sadie and realized she hadn’t looked me in the eye all day, I remembered…she’s the reason I thought this was a good idea.
She was even more clingy than normal but she couldn’t look at me. And I didn’t like looking in the mirror right now, either. Marshall really did a number on me yesterday. It was only the third time he’d ever gotten my face–he usually had enough control to make sure the marks could be hidden. The first was a mere slap, the second one was a blow to the cheek that I was able to cover with makeup.
But there wasn’t makeup for a cracked and swollen lip and eyes. I had tried to cover it a little last night to go out. There was a shady little convenience store fifteen minutes from the house but they had over the counter pain meds that I couldn’t get from other stores. Plus, nobody really knew me there, so it didn’t matter if anyone saw me. I’d seen women with a busted face in there, so I knew I wouldn’t stand out.
At least I didn’t think I would until this woman, Allie, stopped me when I came out. I’d seen her a few times at the library. She asked a lot of questions but never came out and asked if I needed help until last night.
She begged me to go with her then, but even with my face, the idea of leaving sent me into a spiral. I had nothing. Owned nothing. And if I left Marshall, I’d never get anything. We weren’t married, and he reminded me all the time that if I left, I was entitled tonothing.
