Page 124 of Our Broken Pieces
I hear another ding and walk faster toward the doors of the building. An officer puts his arm out. “Sir, this is an active crime scene.”
That’s when I see her walking out the door. “It’s okay, I’m her husband.”
Gigi’s eyes find mine when she hears my voice. A ragged sob escapes her mouth as she runs to me, throwing herself into my arms. I hold her as tight as I can against me, my hand in her hair. “God, it’s so good to hold you right now.”
“You’re all I thought about.” Her tears soak through my shirt.
An officer approaches us. “We will need her at the station to record her statement.”
I nod. “Give me your card. We’ll meet you there.”
Keeping my hand on her head, I release Gigi’s back and take the card. Once the officer leaves us, I move my hands to her cheeks, and her eyes squeeze shut as she grabs my right wrist. That’s when I see the bruise on her face and the marks on her wrists.
“Fuck, baby, what did they do to you?” My eyes search hers.
She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. Just get me out of here, please.”
I kiss her forehead and hold her to my side as I walk her to my father’s car, where he and my mother are waiting.
“Oh, Gigi! You’re safe.” My mom has tears in her eyes as she hugs her.
“Good to see you’re safe, Gigi,” my dad says flatly.
“I’m so sorry for all of this.” Gigi looks at the ground, her apology leaving me confused.
“Why are you sorry?”
Her lips form a tight line. “Nevermind. Let’s get to the police station and get this over with.”
We get into the car and I give my father the address off the card that the officer gave me. Gigi is cuddled into my side, her legs over mine. She’s silent. She won’t look at me. I know she’s been through a traumatic past twenty hours, so I just rub her back and feel so thankful that she’s okay.
Chapter Eighty-Nine
Gigi
“I’m tired.”
We’ve been at the police station for two hours. I’ve been asked a thousand questions, some twice, had to identify Grace and her goons, and signed paperwork. I’m ready to get out of here.
Marcus squeezes my hand, but I retract it. “Officer, I think Gigi’s been through enough today. If we have most of this done, may I take her home?”
We stand, along with Marcus’s family’s lawyer, who oversaw the process. We walk out of the room to make our way out of the building, and once we’re at the exit, Marcus shakes the lawyer’s hand and they exchange a game plan.
Linc and Jax brought Marcus his truck earlier, so his parents could go back to the hotel. As we approach my door, he opens it and helps me inside. He hoists himself up and buckles my seat belt. My head flops back against the headrest and he gently places his hand on my neck.
“I love you, Gigi.” I look into his eyes, and the emotion in them is enough to make me cry. “I just want to hold you for days.” He gently kisses my lips.
He jumps down and closes my door, then crosses to the driver’s side and takes me back to his place.
When we stepped through the door, I told Marcus I needed a shower—alone. He hesitated but eventually agreed, saying he’d fix me some food while I cleaned up. I made my way to my room, but instead of heading to the bathroom, I sat down on the bed. Ethel, sensing something was off, jumped up and nuzzled my arm with her whiskers. I picked her up, hugging her tightly to my chest, letting her soft purring fill the silence.
As I hold her, the cruel words Grace had thrown at me echo in my mind. My parents didn’t want me. That truth has been with me for as long as I can remember, but hearing it again, in this moment, after everything, made it hurt all over again. I caused nothing but chaos over the past twenty-four hours. The wedding is off because of me—because of my past, my mistakes. Marcus’s father must hate me for the embarrassment, for the money they’ve lost. They know my history, my less-than-perfect past, and I’ve only proven them right.
I don’t belong in Marcus’ world. He deserves someone who fits seamlessly into his life—a woman with the same upbringing, the same social status. Someone his father approves of, who can attend their business meetings and charity galas without sticking out. I feel that familiar weight, the same sense of not being enough that I felt with Lewis. It’s the same way I felt every time a foster family returned me like a worn sweater. I should know by now that I don’t deserve forever with someone. Why do I keep fooling myself into thinking I deserve someone like Marcus? Someone out of my league? Why do I keep setting myself up to be hurt?
“Ethel,” I whisper, my voice cracking, “we don’t belong here.”
I stand up, carrying her over to the closet, and pull out her carrier. Sliding her inside, I feel a tightness in my chest, an emptiness spreading inside me. I grab my suitcase from the back of the closet, place it on the bed, and begin packing. It’s always been easier to leave before someone tells me to go. Before someone else proves I never should’ve been here in the first place.
