“As soon as Adrian is out of rehab, you call me,” Nick ordered. “There’s no way I’m letting him anywhere near Nadia. And he better not come over here, or else there’ll be hell to pay. I doubt I’ll even get a chance to throw one punch.”
He glanced at me, a small, exhausted smile on his lips. He wasn’t wrong. If Adrian showed his face in London, I would drag his sorry ass through that fucking hell there and back,twice, regardless of my status with Nadia. It didn’t matter whether she was mine or not. A guy who dared to hit a woman deserved nothing but pain.
“Keep her safe, okay?” Ty said. “She’s stronger than any girl I know, but at the same time she’s fragile.”
Nick bobbed his head, told Ty to take care and cut the call. His head hit the headrest on the couch. Silence filled the air while we both tried to make sense of what we learned. It was impossible though, because neither of us could rationalise Nadia’s willingness to let Adrian abuse the power he held as a man.
“I’m going home.” I rose to my feet. “Call me if you need me.”
He nodded, raising his glass higher. “I’ll call you if she does.”
I hoped she wouldn’t, and I hoped she would.
I went home, even though my body and mind wanted to stay. I entered the dark, silent house half an hour later after speeding up and down the motorway for a while to unwind. I made my way over to the living room, not bothering to turn on the lights. The liquor cabinet was calling my name. Alcohol induced coma became a tempting possibility, but instead of reaching for vodka, I lit a cigarette, sat on the brown couch and hung my head low, running my fingers through my hair.
My pulse echoed in my ears; my heart rate raced like a train on the tracks. Each beat resonated inside my chest as if it were hollow. I refused to acknowledge that my heart was still beating just for Nadia. I pumped my fists and tried to banish the images of Adrian standing over her, his face angry, chest heaving, eyes full of madness.
My mind became my prison: a tormentor who derived sick pleasure in creating endless images of my girl on her knees, crying in pain and begging him to stop. The sound of a fist connecting with her face resonated in my head, followed by her whimpers; head smashing against the wall; ribs cracking.
Swish. Thump. Crack.
Sob. Slap. Whimper.
It was maddening.
Anger mixed with anxiety. If I tried to suppress the negative emotions any longer, I would have exploded.
I put the cigarette out and cracked my knuckles. My composure was fake. A passive observer couldn’t have guessed the destruction happening inside. The truth was, I crossed a line between anger and pure, hot, white frenzy. I breathed out, and just like that, the Devil’s Gate stood open.
The coffee table flew halfway across the room, landing upside down on the floor. More whimpers and choked back sobs filled my mind, interrupted by the sound of Adrian’s hands landing on Nadia’s face.
The screen on the TV cracked under my fist. Bottles smashed against the walls. Glass cabinets shattered. Knuckles bled. I punched anything I reached, imaging it was Adrian’s face. My fists flew in all directions, connecting with walls, furniture and thin air. My finger dislocated when my right hook landed on the stereo.
Trashing the house did nothing to calm me down. It was useless. Even if I had Adrian right in front of me, even if I could kill him with bare hands, it wouldn’t change a thing. It wouldn’t turn back time.
He hurt the one girl I loved more than anything in the world. No punishment was high enough. No amount of pain inflicted on the son-of-a-bitch could lift an ounce of fear off Nadia’s shoulders. Nothing could help her. Not even time.
It doesn’t heal wounds. It just gets us used to the pain.
CHAPTER 10
NADIA
Light that bitch
Escaping an abusive relationship is one of the hardest things a woman could do. I escaped once, but the story of Adrian and me wasn’t finished. We had no closure. Thinking I could stay away was gullible.
This time was different. Adrian understood we couldn’t go back in time as if the violence never happened. He let me go. We put the last dot at the end of the last chapter. Everything that happened later was a sad epilogue. Now, I was back home. It was time to write a new book.
Amelia fell asleep sometime around midnight. She cried, cursing more than the oldest of sailors while I told her about Adrian’s abuse. Every sentence spoken out loud brought me a little closer to recovery.
The words pouring form my mouth had a devastating effect on Mel, but sharing the secret was the key to move on. It was liberating to know I was no longer alone.
One of the things I feared most about telling Nick and Amelia the truth was that they would turn their backs on me because I chose to save him instead of saving myself. It was foolish, but the notion kept me up at night as much as the pain my issues could inflict on them.
And then there was Thomas. The look on his face once he learned the truth was disturbing—a mixture of hurt, anger and helplessness. I underestimated how much it would hurt him. My immediate reaction was to wrap my arms around him, apologise and beg for forgiveness, but I shook that thought away.
He deserved better than that and better than me.