Page 71 of Breaking Bristol
“She told me everything except his name,” I said.
“Shane Calhoun. Five eleven, brown eyes, bald head, no tattoos, inch and a half scar on his left cheek courtesy of Bristol. Drives a white Cadillac Escalade license plate LAW2222, one of the many plates distributed by his father’s legal practice of which he is a senior partner.”
“How’d he get the scar?” I demanded.
His feet shifted, and he hesitated when he said, “First time he hit Bristol, she dug a key into is face.”
Right. I was done here. “Later, man.” I stepped through the archway and had one foot on the porch.
“Don’t do anything stupid.”
I’d made it to the first step and looked over my shoulder. “Stupid is knowing a woman was living in fear and not doing anything about it. Stupid is knowing the name of a man who abused her in every way a woman can get abused and letting him live. Stupid is not telling me what you knew so I could fucking protect her. Stupid, Beau, is not enlisting your brother and his world fucking renowned security company to find this fucking piece of shit so at the very least they could turn him over to me.”
“She’s been here a lot longer than y’all have been together.”
“That’s my point,” I gritted out. “By the time I came along this shit should have been way behind her instead of holding her back from moving forward.”
“You mistake me.”
I sliced my hand through the air impatiently. “I don’t got time for this shit.”
“I’ve had her back this whole time, Beck.”
I linked my fingers and put them on top of my head and drew in a breath. “That’s bullshit. I get we’re not tight, but you know me. You know what I’ve been through, and you damn well knew I wouldn’t be with her at all if it wasn’t real. Doesn’t matter if it had been days, Beau. You saw us together at her cabin, you saw her reaction to you puffin’ your chest at me… you should have told me.”
“I promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“So fucking what!” I bellowed.
He dipped his chin and talked much calmer than me. “She’s traumatized. She’s scared. Her thought process is irrational. If she found out I told someone else, she’d be gone, her words.” He stepped onto the porch. “She’s a victim, man, and she needed to be handled with care. I wasn’t going to be the one who broke her trust after what she’d been through.”
His points were valid, but they were also excuses. “That’s not good enough.”
“What happened?” He narrowed his eyes as something dawned on him. “She told you. Why?”
“Her father had a heart attack, and she wants to go see him but thinks she can’t because she’s afraid Shane will be waiting for her.”
“Shit. What are you going to do?”
I shrugged. “Take my woman to see her father, and if someone gets in the way of that, then I guess I’ll deal with it then.”
“Be smart!” he yelled as I jogged down his walkway.
I flipped two fingers in the air, rounded the hood, then got behind the wheel. I’d been gone too long already. It was near on two in the morning so nobody was out, which made the speed limit irrelevant.
It also made my truck flip more times than it should have when a white Cadillac Escalade pulled out of the woods a mile before the driveway that led to Bristol’s.
My air bags went off, my head snapped back and my palms went to the moonroof to brace for what was to come. But despite my best efforts to protect myself, my body jerked to the side, I felt the muscles in my neck tearing, and glass shattered when the passenger side of my truck was nearly severed in half by a tree. At impact, I felt a popping in my shoulder, and my head bounced against the tree trunk.
“Fuck.” I hissed and tried to blink the stars away.
My ears were ringing, but not enough for me to miss the footsteps rustling toward me. They stopped close, and before I was even able to blink, sparks lit up the dark when a gun exploded. And when something pierced my chest, burning hot pain made my body jerk, and then everything went black.
* * *
“Matty.” My eyelids fluttered when I heard Mikey’s voice. His face was inches from mine, but he was just a kid with bright green eyes and a crooked smile. “Gotta wake up, li’l bro. Bristol needs you.” I tried to tell him I was coming, but I couldn’t speak.
“Matty.” I squinted when I heard Mikey’s voice. His face was inches from mine, and he was a teenager this time. He had a mullet, and his smile was mischievous, his skin tanned from working outside. “Gotta wake up, broski. Bristol needs you.” I told him I was coming, but I couldn’t move.