Page 82 of Lonely Heart

I’d stopped myself from going out in public on my own just to keep myself safe, and he was able to get into my house.

Those were the thoughts that ran through my mind as I struggled and thrashed against him. Was I ever going to be safe again? Would he kill me this time?

I’d been frozen to the spot minutes ago when I realized it was him, but as soon as he made it inside and his eyes locked on me, I took off running in the opposite direction. The only place I could think of going was upstairs. I’d get into one of the rooms and lock the door. Of course, I realized he’d probably do whatever he could to break down the door, but it’d likely give me some time to think. Or, if nothing else, it’d give Marco just a bit more time to get to me.

Unfortunately, I never made it up the stairs. Just before I made it to them, he grabbed me by the hair and yanked back. I was so thrown off balance that the phone went flying from my hand. There was no chance for me to get it back, but I found comfort in knowing Marco was on his way.

I tried to get this man to go, to leave, but he refused. And I realized the only thing I could do was fight. I had to fight and struggle just long enough for Marco to get to me. That’s all.

But every second that passed as I kicked and scratched and clawed and yelled was like whole minutes of my life.

It was the same terror all over again. It was being forced to relive that night in the dark on that side street with the same awful stench of cigarettes. It was feeling like I might not survive this time.

It was taking blows to my body and struggling to protect myself. It was fighting to get away and realizing he was overpowering me.

It was fear and panic and powerlessness mixed with the determination to hold out just a little bit longer.

Despite the aches and pain, I continued to fight. But when his hand clamped around my throat and squeezed, cutting off my oxygen supply, it became harder and harder to focus on doing anything but finding a way to breathe.

Just before I was certain I was going to pass out, his hand was gone. The weight of his body on top of mine had vanished, and I rolled to the side with my hands at my throat, gasping for that precious air.

I didn’t move from where I was, but I saw Marco. I stared in his direction as he beat the crap out of the guy who’d just broken into my house and attacked me for the second time.

I heard and watched as furniture was knocked over and destroyed. I listened to the grunts and groans of pain coming from my assailant.

My home wasn’t safe.

The thought continued to ripple through my mind, even as my eyes drooped shut and I listened to the man that I loved fighting to protect me, to defend me.

I didn’t know how much time had passed, but the struggle eventually stopped. “Ivy.”

Marco’s voice registered, but I couldn’t seem to bring myself to respond, to react. I wanted to speak, to say anything, and I just couldn’t do it.

“Ivy, princess, open your eyes,” he urged, his voice gentle.

It took a massive effort, but my eyes blinked open. Marco was too many feet away from me to be able to touch, but I could see him. That alone brought me a massive sense of comfort.

“Are you okay?”

I wasn’t okay, but I didn’t know how to tell him that. My body was trembling, my insides still shaking with such fear.

Whatever Marco saw when he looked at me must have given him enough of an answer. He seemed to be waging a battle with whether to stay where he was to prevent my attacker from getting away and standing up to come to me.

His emotions got the best of him, and he stood just as the sound of sirens filled the air. Fortunately, as Marco made his way toward me, the man didn’t move from his spot on the floor.

Marco scooped me up in his arms and settled me in his lap. He tucked my face against his neck, keeping his gaze focused on the guy who’d broken into my home to assault me.

Everything was moving in slow motion, and it didn’t get any better when the police arrived. I didn’t pay attention to much of what was happening. I stayed where I was, where I felt safe in Marco’s arms. I allowed him to speak to the officers on my behalf, and I trusted him to get me through this.

The warmth and safety of his embrace worked wonders, as did his constant murmurs against the top of my head. The tension slowly eased out of my body. And when I saw my attacker, bloodied and beaten by Marco, being led out of my house in handcuffs, I relaxed even further.

But when I heard a commotion at the front door, I feared again for the worst. “It’s my sister in there!” Liam’s voice rang through the air, and a moment later, I heard footsteps close. “Jesus. Is she okay?”

His question was directed at Marco, who didn’t hesitate to respond. “I think she’s in shock. She hasn’t spoken a word since I got here.”

Liam crouched beside us, his concerned eyes on me. I stared back at him, refusing to let go of Marco. “Are you okay?” The sound of his voice nearly broke me.

But as much as I wanted to give him an answer, I didn’t trust myself to speak. If I did, I was convinced I’d have a total meltdown. So, I merely offered a slight shake of my head.