Fight or Flight

He cursed and looked at Jamie and then at me.

I read his silent question. “Break it in.”

Taking a few steps back, Caleb seemed to brace and then he punched a long, strong leg out with more force than I knew he was capable of. The door flew open, the chain snapping off, and wood in the center panel cracked and splintered.

I didn’t care.

I rushed in behind Caleb and Jamie to find Vince standing up from the sofa in her small living room. In my head I’d imagined the apartment wrecked from a violent struggle, but it was mostly intact except for a smashed vase in the corner by the window.

The retro fridge, however, was no longer in her tiny kitchen but barricading her bedroom door.

Son of a bitch!

Before I could launch myself at him, he raised his hands in defense against a menacing Jamie and Caleb, who were approaching him slowly, predatorily.

I finally noted that Vince’s face was splotchy and his eyes watery and red-rimmed. He’d been crying. He still was. And his hair was all over the place, like he’d been tugging it in vexation.

“I didn’t mean it.” He shook his head, blubbering. Spit dribbled down his chin and he wiped it, sobbing harder. “I didn’t mean it.” His eyes flew to me and he started toward me. “Ava, I didn’t mean it.”

Caleb lunged between us and shoved Vince hard enough to send him sprawling to the hardwood floor. “You stay the hell away from her,” he warned. “Jamie, watch him while I help Ava get Harper.”

Jamie nodded. “He isn’t going anywhere.”

Pulling my eyes away from Vince, holding back my desire to physically attack him, I hurried over to the fridge with Caleb and together we hauled it out of the way. Hands shaking, afraid of what I’d find beyond the door, I hesitated just a second before I threw it open.

I heard Vince behind me whimpering. “I just didn’t want her to leave me. I’m sorry. I just didn’t want her to leave me.” The sound of a struggle brought my head back around to the living room and I watched as Vince tried to get past Jamie to the bedroom.

With a grunt of annoyance, Jamie let him go for a millisecond before knocking Vince out with a right hook.

Vince crumpled to the ground and Jamie stepped over him, hurrying across the room to us.

With Vince unconscious and no longer sobbing and pleading, I finally heard her whimpers and groans.

Heart squeezing in alarm, I hurried into the bedroom, my eyes searching the small space, and panicking when I couldn’t see her. Relief flooded me as I caught sight of her head behind the far side of the bed.

Rounding it, feeling the brothers’ presence at my back, I stumbled to a stop at the scene that greeted me.

My best friend was slumped on the floor cradling her wrist. She sensed me and lifted her head slowly. Her left eye was swollen shut, her nose was bloodied, there was a cut on her lower lip, and her T-shirt was torn with splatters of blood on it.

I felt my knees tremble so hard they nearly took me to the ground, and I had to stifle the sob that rose in my throat.

My hands and legs shook as they took me toward her.

“Where’s Vince?” Harper slurred.

“He’s in the living room. He’s out.” I lowered to my knees, reaching for her, my hands hovering over her because I was afraid to touch her and hurt her more. “Sweetie, we need to get you to the hospital.”

“No, no.” She shook her head and I finally saw the matted, blooded hair near her temple. Her slurred words made sense and fear took hold of me.

“We have to, baby. You might have a concussion. Hospital and police.”

“No, no,” she kept repeating.

“Let me, wee yin,” Caleb said, gently pulling me up out of the way. And then he was even more gentle as he lifted Harper into his arms. She cried out, a shrill sound that made my stomach sink.

Caleb’s gaze flew to me, his countenance grim. “Her ribs,” he surmised.

“Broken?”

“Maybe just bruised.” He looked ready to kill Vince.

I was right there with him.

“Ava, please, no.” Harper began to cry pitifully as Caleb carried her out of the room. Jamie held the door for them and I hurried at Caleb’s back only to hear her whisper mournfully, “I’m so ashamed.”

Tears filled my eyes as my gaze connected with Jamie’s.

Empathy shone out of his eyes and he touched Harper’s arm, drawing Caleb to a stop. “You have nothing tae be ashamed of,” he said to her.

“Who are you?” she whispered.

“My brother Jamie,” Caleb answered. “Now let’s get going.”

“Hospital, police,” I repeated.

“I’ll call the police and wait here for them,” Jamie said. “I’ll make sure the bastard doesn’t get away before they get here.”

“I’m surprised someone hasn’t already called the police,” Caleb muttered.

I gave the room one last sweep. Everything was in its place except for that vase—and Vince’s sprawled body on the floor. “There’s not a lot of damage, so maybe not a lot of noise.” And if Harper had fought back, made noise, a neighbor would surely have called the police. Which means my friend had taken this beating without a fight.

I knew her history.

I knew her.

She blamed herself for staying with him. I feared she’d taken his beating as a punishment—a thought that made me feel sick. If that was true, we had bigger problems than bruised ribs and a concussion.

I squeezed Jamie’s shoulder as I passed him. “Thank you.”

He gave me a tight smile and nodded.

“Ava, keep talking tae her,” Caleb said as we hurried out of the apartment.

“What’s going on?” A belligerent voice stopped me on the landing while Caleb kept hurrying down the stairs.

I jerked around at the sight of Harper’s elderly neighbor, Mr. Haggerty, standing in his doorway scowling. “Mr. Haggerty, Harper’s hurt. We’re taking her to the hospital.”

“I’m calling the police.” He glowered at us.

“My friend already has,” I assured him. I didn’t have time to stick around, though, so I gave him a nod and rushed down the stairs after Caleb and Harper.

The entire drive to the hospital I made my friend recite recipes to keep her awake. When we got there and handed her over to the nurses, it took everything within me to hold it together.

Harper Lee Smith was my only true family and I had let her down. If I had just kept on at her about Vince—damn the consequences—there was a huge possibility we wouldn’t be at a hospital and Caleb wouldn’t have my friend’s blood on his T-shirt.

Twenty-four

The wait to hear how Harper was doing was excruciating. I just wanted to be by her side. Images of her before she met Vince, of her laughing, full of attitude, filled my head and I was terrified that those images would remain memories, that after all she’d been through this horrible end to a bad relationship would be the thing that broke her.

I clung to hope that if Harper was tough enough to make it out of her past, she was strong enough to eventually realize that what happened tonight had not been her fault.

Sensing that I was deeply buried in my own thoughts and concerns, Caleb was a silent support at my side as we sat in the waiting room of the ER. We were surrounded by people, yet every single one of them faded out of existence as I stewed in anxiety. That is … every single one except Caleb. I still felt him there. His strength and warmth beside me anchored me even if it seemed to the outside like I’d floated away from him.

“Harper Smith’s family?”

Her name jolted me out of myself and I rose to my feet, as Caleb stood up at my back. “Yes?”

The doctor, a young brunette with kind eyes, gestured to us and we marched over to her. “You’re Harper’s relatives?”

“She doesn’t have any blood relatives,” I answered. “I’m her best friend. I’m her only family. I’m her emergency contact on her insurance. Ava Breevort.”

“Okay. I’m Dr. Hunter.” The doctor lifted her hand in a calming gesture, sensing my building anxiety at the thought of being barred from Harper. “Ava, I can tell you that Harper is going to be all right. She’s got a fractured rib and a broken wrist. The wrist we’ve put in a cast, but unfortunately there’s not a lot we can do about her rib except administer pain relief while it heals. Thankfully her nose isn’t broken, but a deep cut on her eyebrow and left temple required stitches. Which brings me to what I am concerned about. Harper threw up while we were treating her and is feeling very disoriented. I’ve ruled out any serious brain injuries but I always ask that patients suffering from concussion have someone stay with them for at least forty-eight hours. This is just a precaution to make sure there aren’t any concerning changes in Harper’s behavior.”