Breaking Through (The Breaking Series Book 3) (37 page)

BOOK: Breaking Through (The Breaking Series Book 3)
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“That’s not relevant,” I said, lowering my gaze.

“I see,” Reese said. He saw where I looked, and he knew who always parked there.

We stopped in front of my car and I turned to him. “Thanks for walking with me.”

“My pleasure.” He grabbed my hand and kissed the top. “See you at your sister’s wedding.”

I nodded, entered my car, and left before more club-goers saw Reese and me talking. The next thing I knew, they would spread rumors I was the next one getting married.

Late, I stopped by the apartment, grabbed Evie’s gifts, and then drove to her apartment on the other side of town.

When I arrived, she was in the kitchen, mixing the ingredients to bake a cake.

“I haven’t baked a cake in ages!” she exclaimed with a wide smile on her face.

She looked much better now. It was as if she could finally be happy, feel happy, or at least hopeful for a better future. And her bruises were healing nicely too. Seeing her like this made me happy. She had endured so much—more than any woman should—and I was glad to be helping her pave a new path for herself. My only wish was that she had been this strong before, and left Mike months ago.

Better late than never. She was still young and had her entire life ahead of her.

I leaned against the counter and watched as she finished mixing the last ingredients, poured the mix in a baking pan, and put it inside the oven.

She turned to me with a wide smile. “It should be ready in about thirty minutes.”

“That’s good.” I raised my arm and showed her I was holding a big bag. “You can look through these in the mean time.”

Her eyes widened and she reached for the bag. “More gifts? Hilary, I’m serious, please stop. You’re gonna spoil me rotten.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Besides, I don’t deserve it.”

“Yes, you do.” I gestured to the bag. “Now, open it!”

She rushed to the couch and sat down, the bag on her lap.

As she opened it, the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” I said, already walking to the door.

Still smiling, I opened the door and barely registered who was standing there before I was shoved to the side and hit my head on the wall behind the open door.

Mike strode in and the door slammed closed.

Evie stood. “W-what are you doing here?”

“What are
you
doing here?” Mike asked, advancing toward her.

Shaking, Evie retreated until she had put the kitchen’s high counter between Mike and her.

Fighting the dizziness that spun my mind and made my vision blur for a few seconds, I pushed from the wall and placed my hand on the back of my head. It wasn’t bleeding.

I took a deep breath, gathering my strength and my courage. “Mike, you should leave.”

He didn’t even look at me as he said, “Stay out of it, blondie, or I’ll finish what I started in that parking lot.”

With wide, scared eyes, Evie looked from Mike to me and back to Mike. “H-how did you find me?”

“Easy. I just followed blondie here. I knew she was bound to come visit you at some point.”

My chest deflated.

No. How could I have been so stupid? I should have known he would be watching me. I should have been careful. I should have watched out for him. If I had seen him following me, I would have lost him somehow. Now it was too late.

Mike grabbed my arm with force and pulled me with him as he took a few steps toward Evie.

Tears spilled from her eyes. “Please …”

“Please, what, baby? Please take me home? Please forgive me?” He pushed me down and let me go, making me fall on my knees right beside the kitchen counter. He rounded the counter, getting close to Evie. She took a few steps back, but I knew what was going through her mind. She was thinking about surrendering, because if she resisted and he caught up with her, it would be so much worse.

“Evie, don’t,” I said.

She spared me a quick, terrified glance. “I don’t know what to do,” she cried.

“You know what will happen to you, right, baby?” Mike asked. He closed the distance between them and wrapped his hand around her arm. Tight. He pulled her to him and she whimpered. “That’s my girl.” His eyes on me, he licked her cheek. “What shall we do about her, baby? Hm, should we punish her for what she did to us?”

Panic and fear made its way through my veins.

The door wasn’t too far behind me. I could run and scream for help. I would be safe, and Evie might be, if someone came to help in time. But if no one came, Mike would beat her up, would abuse her more, and she would let him. Worse, he would take her away and I was sure I wouldn’t be able to help her again.

Fighting my instinct wasn’t easy. I pushed the panic and fear down and tried to think this through. Mike was a big man. He could hurt Evie and me without breaking a sweat.

“Please, Mike, don’t,” she whispered.

He pulled his arm back and slapped her hard enough that her head whipped to the side and she lost her footing, toppling into the counter. I gasped, my fear spiking.

His teeth bared like an animal, Mike turned to me. “It’s all your fault.”

I started to push up, to stand, but he grasped my shoulder and pushed me hard, making me lose my balance and fall back down. I hit my head on the kitchen’s hard floor and darkness surrounded me.

Before I could recover, Mike pulled me up by my hair. I heard Evie’s cry and fought against the dizziness and the darkness.

Mike shouted something. Then pain exploded on my cheek and I went barreling to the floor again. The darkness took over again. There were more shouts; they seemed to be coming from underwater. A new, terrible pain exploded in my stomach, taking my breath away. I wheezed, certain I was drowning.

Minutes passed—or seconds?—and finally my breath steadied enough that I could take a long inhale and the dark spots in my vision retreated. Mike had Evie backed into a corner. She barely moved as he landed punch after punch on her.

“Mike,” I called him, but my throat hurt and nothing came out. I pushed to my knees and tried again. “Mike!” I yelled. He didn’t stop.

Holding on to the top of the counter, I pulled myself up. My hand lay beside my purse and a thick rolling pin. I quickly grabbed my cell phone and the pepper spray.

I dialed 911 and yelled, “Help!”

Then, Mike roared as he let go of Evie—she slid to the ground—and advanced on me. He took the pepper spray and the phone from me before I could finish rattling the address to the operator, and threw them both on the other side of the room.

I didn’t pay much attention to the blood on his fists as he raised them to hit me, or I would give in to the fear trying to break me.

I grabbed the rolling pin from the counter and swung it at him. A sickening crack followed as the rolling pin connected with the side of his head.

“Bitch!” he yelled, taking the rolling pin from me. That did it. He roared and lunged at me.

But this time, I wasn’t going to let him take me down that easily.

From somewhere inside me, I pulled strength I didn’t know I had. I sidestepped him and picked up a pan that was on the range. I brought it down, as hard as I could, and hit him in the back. Groaning, he turned around again, and easily hit my arm hard enough that the pan went flying. Then he slapped me with the same hand, making me stumble to the side. I didn’t even register the pain anymore as he closed his hand around my neck and backed me against the wall.

“Bitch! Now I’m gonna finish what I started that day,” he said, spitting his rage on me.

He pressed his hand tight, and on purpose, lifted me up so I couldn’t even stand on my tiptoes. I closed my hands on his wrists, trying to push them apart, to break free. But he was a monster, an animal. He was too big and too strong for me.

Thank goodness, I had learned how to deal with guys like him.

Still holding on to his wrists, I used them as leverage so I could pull my knees up and then kick him in his stomach with both feet, as hard as I could. Surprised, his rigid stance wavered and his grip on my neck loosened enough so I could pull them apart and break free. I ducked as he made it to grab me again. He corrected himself too quickly and was able to grab my arm as I tried to run away. He closed both hands around my right wrist. I twisted, so the narrow side of my arm was against his thumbs, and then pulled it hard toward me. Even a big guy like him couldn’t hold on like that, and then as his hands were pried open, I kept pulling my arm up, bending it so my elbow hit his chin hard. His head snapped back and, aiming for the center of his chest, I used both hands to push him back. He stumbled, coughing.

I didn’t waste time. I ran to the door.

Before I could open it and call for help, Mike caught up with me. He closed his big hand around my arm and pulled me back into the living room as if I didn’t weigh more than a rag doll.

Mike threw me on the couch and leaned over me. “I’m gonna kill you, bitch. But first, I’m gonna enjoy you a little.” He punched my cheek. Pain exploded on my face as my head snapped to the side. My vision blurred and I could swear I had lost a tooth.

I fought against the darkness taking over just to see Mike reaching for his belt and opening his pants. Pure panic rose in me. No, no, no. Not again. Not like this. Not the same way.

The panic rose, rose, rose. I felt like I was drowning, but now I knew how to swim.

I swam through my panic, fighting it every inch of the way, and acted.

Like before, I used both my legs to push Mike back. He stumbled over the coffee table, and I bolted up and to the side, to where he had thrown the pepper spray. I looked for it for five seconds, five precious seconds before Mike recovered and darted after me.

Then I found it. A rush of hope cut through me, and I picked it up and used it on him, half a second before his hands would have closed around my neck.

Mike yelled and clawed at his eyes and mouth. I kept pressing on the spray, not letting him recover. He backed up from me, and doubled over, as if he could get rid of the sting by bowing down. But I was done here. I took a step closer and brought my knee up with all my might, first into his face—his head flew back and he stumbled again—and then to the middle of his legs.

His screams died and he fell on his knees, defeated, even if only a moment.

But a moment was all I needed. I ran to the kitchen where I had seen some duct tape on the counter and came back to where Mike was still a little disoriented. Without wasting a second, I started wrapping the tape around him.

“What the …?” he croaked. Realizing what was happening, he started fighting me. I grabbed a picture frame from the end table and broke it into his head. That wouldn’t make him unconscious, but it would make him pause long enough for me. I grabbed both his hands, pulled them behind his back, and wrapped tape around them. Then continued wrapping it all around him.

“Bitch!” he yelled once more.

Feeling dizzy, I crawled around him and next wrapped his ankles—again I had to distracted him by throwing something at him, otherwise he wouldn’t have stopped kicking at me. He kept on yelling obscenities, so I taped his mouth too.

I stood back on my knees and admired my work.

There was tape everywhere around him. I just hoped it would hold him while I found my cell phone and called 911 again, just in case they couldn’t trace my phone call before.

The dizziness was overwhelming now, but I kept on swimming. I had to. I finally found my phone. It was broken beside the wall. I picked it up but nothing work.

“Damn it,” I muttered.

Where was Evie’s phone? Oh gosh, Evie. She hadn’t uttered a word in the last few minutes.

“Evie?” I called, but I was distantly aware that my voice wasn’t above a whisper. I wiped my nose and was surprised to find blood on my hand. Shit.

I started crawling to the kitchen, but dark spots danced in my vision and my limbs felt heavy. I knew how to swim now. I didn’t want to drown. I couldn’t drown. But the current was stronger and took me under.

 

Gui

 

 

“Can you bring that one over?” I asked.

“Sure,” Magnum said.

Squinting against the sun, I pulled my baseball cap lower and leaned over the fence.

After the bachelor party last night, I couldn’t sleep. I tried for hours and I just couldn’t. Every second of the night, I fought the urge to go to Hilary’s apartment and ask her how their bachelorette party had been. What if she had hired strippers? What if she had hooked up with one?

Paranoid, I went to Gabi’s bedroom, woke her up, and asked her how it went. She threw one of her pillows and yelled at me to get out of her room. Well, I deserved that.

Still, I couldn’t sleep. We had the day off—no games or practice, but I knew João Pedro wanted to go to Fresno soon to check on some polo ponies. In Brazil, our ranch bred and trained polo ponies so we never had to worry about buying them until we moved here. Unfortunately, it was easier to buy them around here than to fly them from Brazil. Leo and I were trying to convince João Pedro of expanding the ranch here and start breeding polo ponies here too.

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