“What? Wasn’t supposed to find out you’re fucking some other guy? Or, wait, is this another performer who you got to make a video for you?” He needed to hit something. “I trusted you!”
“Please, don’t get upset. Please, it’s not what you think.”
“A boyfriend calling you is sure as fuck what it sounds like from the asshole’s message. Shit, Abigail. I told you things. I thought we could be friends. I can’t fucking trust you if you don’t tell me the truth.”
She stepped back. He was mad. Fuck that, he was infuriated. Some dickhead was calling his woman and leaving a message like that? Fuck no. There was no way he’d stick around for this. If she wanted to play games, she could kiss his ass.
“It’s not like that. I promise.” She stepped back again.
He hadn’t noticed that he’d been moving forward until her back hit the wall. “Then explain it.” The top of her head was all he could see, because she wouldn’t look up at him. What was she hiding? “If you can’t be honest now, then what’s the point of us doing this?”
Her fists met his chest. Three hard strikes and he backed up, giving her space. “You don’t understand! Just go! If he finds out you’re here, he’ll….he’ll…”
Sean stepped back and started to pace.
“He’ll what, find out you’re fucking around on him with an ex-con? Let the guy find out his woman’s been out cheating on him. I don’t give a damn. This is why I don’t trust women. You’re all alike, Abigail.”
Now she looked up, and her angry, tear-drenched eyes glared at him. “And you men are all alike. Intimidating and hurting women, that’s what you guys do. If that’s the kind of woman you think I am, then you really don’t know me at all. You want me to see you, Sean Drennan? Do you! Well, you don’t see me!”
The clench in his heart almost brought him to his knees. He’d tipped over the edge of the roller coaster, and the roaring wind blew the next few minutes away. He walked into the kitchen. He heard the crunch of drywall and felt the give beneath his fist. He even heard her scream coming from the living room.
The target was never her. He just wanted to put his fist through the wall. But the relief he was expecting didn’t come. The empty hole inside still gaped.
“Get out! Get out!”
He ran into the dining room to find Abigail crouched by the living room wall. Her arms barricaded her head. Was she waiting for him to hit her? What the hell was she thinking? He’d hit a thousand guys, his promoter, his foster dad, but he’d never hit a woman. Never going to happen. “Abigail. Please, baby, look at me. Look at me.”
“No, no! Get out! Don’t hit me!” she screamed as she lowered her arms to cradle her waist. “Please don’t hurt us.” She rocked back and forth. “Please don’t hurt us.”
“I’d never hurt you. I swear on my life. I have a temper, baby, but I’d never hurt you. I fucking swear. Please look at me.”
Fuck, what had he done? The scars. The dog hid under the table, watching them. He’d never hurt her or the dog. It’d always felt good to hit something. The relief was the only sure thing he could count on. What now? “Abigail. I’d never hit you or Penelope. I promise.” He reached down to help her up.
She swatted his hands away. “No, get out!”
The only thing he managed to do was scare her more. “Abigail, I’m sorry. I know I have a temper, but I’d never hit you. Come on, let me help you up.”
Her shoulders shook when she tried to speak. “Y-You’re scaring me. Please just go.”
He hadn’t been the only bastard to make her cower on the floor. Hell no. She knew to drop to the floor and put her hands up. He’d seen fighters do the same thing when he’d come at them. Someone hurt her, leaving behind effects that still lingered. His clenched fists ached to beat the shit out of the man who’d hurt her. Shit, he hadn’t put a hand on her, but it sure as fuck felt like he had. The best thing was for him to leave. “I’ll come back and fix the wall.”
Huddled against the living room wall, she didn’t say a word as Penelope snuggled against her leg. The marred red wall in the kitchen, marked by white shards of jagged drywall stared back at him. He’d fix it. Whether she wanted him to or not, he’d make it better. So many things in his life had been fucked-up. He never complained. He’d taken the hits and done the best he could. Now his best wasn’t good enough. Fighting wasn’t going to get him out of this one. The temper he’d always used to protect himself was the very thing that was going to destroy him.