Authors: Tina Donahue
He stopped smiling. “Who’s the prick you’ve been hanging out
with? Called him too but he didn’t pick up. Wanted him to do a tat for me on
his day off like he did for you. Isn’t that something, little Marn got the
balls to get herself inked. Where? Your scars? I don’t blame you. Sucks to be
ugly, doesn’t it?”
Marnie sidled away from the planter and turned around,
backing toward the parlor until she considered what getting Tor and the others
involved would mean. She didn’t want Ethan hurting them. “What do you want?”
His features contorted in a sudden rage she was painfully
familiar with. “What do you think, dummy? You’re coming home. We have a lot of
catching up to do.” He moved closer.
Marnie tried to run.
He caught up easily, grabbed her arm and pulled her into
him. “You don’t leave me ever,” he said through his teeth. “I throw you away
when I want to, got it? I’m not through with you by a long shot. Make one
fucking sound and I’ll kill you before anyone can help.”
Tor capped the bottle of disinfectant, nearly finished with
his cleanup.
“Oh my God,” Jasmina said from the hall. “He’s the one who
came in that Wednesday asking about a tat with Tor.”
He looked over.
“His hair’s different,” Jasmina said, “but it’s him.”
“Tor,”
Lauren hollered.
He bolted down the hall. “What?”
Jasmina pointed to the outside. “Him. Ethan. He’s with
Marnie.”
“I’ll call the police,” Lauren said.
Tor ran outside and around the crowd. Marnie kept hitting
Ethan’s chest, trying to get away. He backhanded her, his slap making her head
jerk back.
Everything went white hot for Tor, a surge of rage
propelling him forward. He grabbed Ethan’s throat and squeezed. The prick’s
hand fell away from her. Tor shoved him back. Once they were well past Marnie,
Tor punched Ethan in the jaw and stomach.
He staggered from the blows but didn’t go down. Tor ducked
Ethan’s first swing. The second clipped his shoulder, the pain not registering.
He turned quickly to dodge the third, catching a glimpse of Marnie, Jasmina,
Lauren and the others watching. Jasmina had her cellphone up as though she were
recording what was happening.
Ethan lunged for Tor. He responded by slugging him again.
Ethan lurched back but remained on his feet.
“Fuck this,” Van Gogh suddenly said, joining Tor.
Ethan backed up. They followed.
“Go around him,” Tor said to Van Gogh. “I don’t want him
running away.”
“Fuck you,” Ethan shouted. “You’re the one who’s going to
run.”
He threw a wild punch. Tor sidestepped the blow, his fist
connecting with Ethan’s jaw again. A string of blood flew from his split lip.
Van Gogh rammed his fist into Ethan’s gut.
He doubled over but didn’t retreat. With his head down, he
butted Van Gogh, both of them falling to the walk. Before Ethan could land a
punch, Tor pulled him off Van Gogh and hit him once more.
A siren blared as the patrol car approached.
Two officers in their early thirties got out.
Ethan shouted, “These bastards attacked me.”
“I’ll kill you if you ever come near Marnie again,” Tor
growled.
Van Gogh tried to pull Tor away. He shook off Van Gogh’s
hold.
This time, Ethan backed up. Tor followed, both of them
slowly circling each other.
“Enough,” the blond cop said. “No one moves.”
Marnie went to him and the dark-haired cop, her lip bloody,
cheek bruised. She pointed at Ethan. “He hit me when I tried to get away from
him. He told me if I tried to leave, he’d kill me. Tor was only trying to help.
He was protecting me.”
Jasmina joined them, putting her arm around Marnie’s
shoulders. “I recorded everything,” she said to the cops and held up her phone.
“It’s just like Marnie said. He was attacking her and Tor stopped him.”
“You two,” the blond cop said to Tor and Van Gogh. “Step
over there.” He gestured to the left.
Van Gogh had to pull Tor back. So much adrenaline was
pumping through him, he was ready to go again.
“How did this start?” the cop with the dark hair asked.
“They fucking attacked me,” Ethan said, wiping blood off his
mouth. “I was minding my own goddamn business, talking to my girlfriend and—”
“I’m not your girlfriend,” Marnie hollered, tears running
down her cheeks. “I loathe you. You’ll never hit me again.”
“She’s fucking lying,” Ethan said to the cops. “I never laid
a hand on her. She hit me. Look at my goddamned face.”
Tor wanted to tear him apart. He pointed at Marnie. “Look at
her face to see what this coward did to her.”
Ethan’s expression got even uglier. “You piece of filth,
I’ll teach you to call me a coward.”
He lunged for Tor. The blond cop grabbed Ethan’s arm,
dragging him back. Growling, Ethan struggled out of his grip, turned, and threw
a punch, catching the cop’s ear.
His partner rushed up. Within seconds, they had Ethan on the
walk, the blond cop’s knee on his back, the other cuffing his wrists and
panting.
“You’re under arrest for assaulting a police officer,” the
dark-haired cop said.
Despite the restraints, Ethan kept trying to get free. “Fuck
you.”
“You,” the dark-haired cop said to Tor. “Over here.”
The blond pulled out his cuffs.
“Wait, please,” Lauren said. “Do you officers know Dante
Avana? Has he spoken to you recently?”
Both men nodded, a sudden look of understanding crossing
their faces. “This is Dobbs?” the blond asked, gesturing to Ethan.
“Yeah,” Marnie said. “How did you know?” She looked at Tor.
“I didn’t want him hurting you again,” he said.
“That’s a fucking lie,” Ethan shouted. “I never touched her.
Her face was like that when she came outside. Ask her what happened in the
parlor before I even got here.”
Both cops ignored him. The blond turned to Jasmina. “You
said you recorded what happened here?”
“Everything.” She handed him her phone.
He regarded her for a long moment then looked at the others.
“We’ll have to take witness statements.”
Many of the gawkers turned away, obviously not wanting to
get involved.
“Ask me anything you want,” Tor said. He went to Marnie,
gathering her in his arms. “After I take her to the ER.”
“Go on,” the blond said. “We’ll get your statements later.”
Tor nodded, grateful that Dante knew these guys. They’d cut
him some procedural slack because of that acquaintance. With his arm around
Marnie’s shoulders, Tor led her away.
Ethan hollered, “Whore. I should have killed you years ago.”
She stopped, stiffening against Tor. He held her closer.
“Your lip’s bleeding.” He gingerly stroked her cheek. “Are
you all right?”
“Are you?” Marnie touched his knuckles, scraped from the
fight, and his shoulder where Ethan’s blow had connected. “You’re hurt.”
Tor was still too wound up to feel anything except lingering
rage. He forced a smile. “I’m fine.”
“So am I,” she said. “I don’t need to go to the ER. I’ve
been through this before. I’m so sorry for bringing my problems into your
life.”
“They’re his problems. He brought them, not you. Please,
let’s go to the hospital, just to make sure everything’s okay.”
She turned, watching the cops pull Ethan to the patrol car.
Tor guessed what was going through Marnie’s mind. Creeps
like Ethan always slipped through the cracks and never had to pay. After a few
hours in jail, he’d be out, heading for her, his anger tripled and deadly.
“Don’t worry,” Tor said. “He won’t get away with this. This
time, there are too many witnesses. He also hit a cop and threatened you in
their presence.”
Ethan was still shouting what he wanted to do to all of
them, each word digging him deeper.
“It’s over,” Tor said, easing Marnie into him, holding her
with care. “You’re finally free.”
Four months later…
The weather was perfect—mid-seventies, the humidity
blessedly mild, the sky clear, clouds and rain taking a day off.
A good omen for the future as far as Marnie was concerned,
especially today. She was in Lauren’s wedding party, along with Jasmina, Tor’s
sisters Sofia and Gaby, and the girlfriends of his brothers Miguel, Angelo,
Juan and Eduardo.
Each of the guys wore a tux. The bridesmaids had chosen pale-yellow
pantsuits, everyone agreeing the outfits were far more sensible than expensive
gowns no one would wear again.
Although Dante was really bringing in the bucks with his law
practice, and the parlor was doing well enough for Lauren to raise everyone’s
salaries, she and Dante had planned their wedding with love, not as a means to
impress. Their reception was in the backyard of their modest home, the area
decorated by Tor and Van Gogh with a white gazebo, yard lanterns and tons of
flowers.
A local Spanish band played a spicy salsa tune. Guests
helped themselves to countless dishes at the expansive buffet courtesy of
Castillo’s Cuban Cuisine. Gaby and Sofia danced with their boyfriends who’d
served as groomsmen, the same as Van Gogh. He sat next to Jasmina, with neither
of them having hooked up with anyone. Yet.
Marnie saw how Kyle Loring and Noah Guzman kept sneaking
peeks at Jasmina even though the two had brought dates. Dark-haired Noah and
blond Kyle were great-looking men, both of them potently virile. A woman would
feel safe around them.
Marnie finally had. Kyle and Noah were the cops who’d
arrested Ethan.
He was still in jail, awaiting trial, unable to make the
hefty bail the judge had ordered thanks to Ethan’s continuing threats against
everyone who’d dared to stop him. Several times in the past months, Marnie
learned of the other trouble Ethan had gotten into. Fights with inmates,
mouthing off to the guards, refusing to follow any rules. His anger was so
out-of-control, he didn’t try to game the system as he’d done in the past by
pretending he was the victim. Marnie sensed her escape was the ultimate
flashpoint for him. Until she’d come along, he’d always gotten his way and had
the last word.
Not any longer.
Dante had said Ethan was looking at a lengthy prison
sentence. The only way to reduce the old and new charges against him was to
plead out in return for less time. Ethan refused. He wanted his day in court.
So did Marnie. No way would she run from the truth any
longer and try to hide the abuse because she was ashamed or scared. Testifying
against Ethan didn’t frighten her. Marnie was a different woman now and had Tor
at her side.
“I see caramel flan way, way,
way
up there,” he said,
pointing his fork. “Nice. I know how much you like dessert.”
“You too.” Caramel, whipped cream and chocolate was their
favorite bedtime snack—to eat off each other. “Hope there’s some left by the
time we get over there.”
The line in front of them was composed of forty, possibly
fifty people, all taking their time piling food on their plates.
Tor gave her a wicked grin. “There’s always stuff to eat at
home.”
She smiled. What a beautiful word,
home.
Marnie had
moved in with him several weeks ago, right after Tor had declared his love,
saying he couldn’t hold back any longer.
Neither could she. Marnie had opened her heart fully to Tor
that night, confessing her feelings.
Alice couldn’t have been happier to lose her as a tenant and
had adjusted Marnie’s schedule so she could attend classes at the university.
Tor had helped her get a used car so she had wheels.
“Freedom,”
he’d said.
That and a man she wanted to come home to every night
because she trusted him.
A life her mother had never known. Marnie wished her mom
could have enjoyed these days with her and Tor. She would have loved him.
At her gravesite each Wednesday, Marnie and Tor told her
mother what had happened during their week, sharing their lives with her.
The line inched forward again and stopped abruptly.
Tor sighed. “At this rate,” he said sotto voce, “we’ll
starve.”
“You’re the best man,” she whispered. “You have clout and
should cut in line.”
He wagged his fork at her. “Are you being bad again?”
Marnie certainly wasn’t following rules blindly as she had
in the past, keeping quiet, doing what she’d been told no matter how much she
hurt.
She backed into Tor, discreetly pressing her ass against his
cock. The precious thing blossomed quickly, getting humongous.
“Bad like that?” she whispered.
Tor chuckled. “Careful.” He spoke as quietly as she had.
“There are cops and an attorney out here.”
Noah and Kyle were too busy watching Jasmina to notice
anyone else. Dante leaned into Lauren, saying something that had her grinning.
He looked nearly as handsome as Tor. Lauren was beautiful, her bridal gown a
confection of lace and seed pearls.
“I don’t think they care what we do,” Marnie whispered. “We
could probably slip under the buffet tables and not be missed for hours.”
Mischief flared in Tor’s eyes. “Great idea, except for one
thing. My mom would know. She has some kind of weird radar for bad behavior.”
True. She and Tor’s dad were already keeping an eye on their
daughters and the girls’ dates, making certain no one’s hands trespassed.
“Guess we’ll have to be good until we get home.”
“Hours and hours from now. Possibly days or even a week.”
Poor baby.
Marnie stroked his smooth cheek,
disappointed he’d had to shave. She liked his stubble. “Don’t worry. Lauren and
Dante will shoo everyone out of here long before then to take off for their
honeymoon.” She ran her fingertip over Tor’s bottom lip, loving its softness
and heat. “As far as you and I are concerned, whatever we want to do we have
plenty of time.”
“Yeah.” Tor grinned and slipped his arm around her waist,
drawing Marnie close. “We have the rest of our lives.”