Part 6 (1/2)
She hadn't seen Hangar since that time, but the memory of his delivered torment hasn't faded from her mind.
Twisting in his crouched position, Viktor aims a scolding look to Anna. Hearing Casey tell him exactly what she remembers, he bellows into the open room, ”He had his f.u.c.king hands on her! That ridiculously vile man touched her!”
Casey's shoulders involuntarily jerk in surprise. Her hands move to her head and she clasps them tightly around her ears, waiting with harsh antic.i.p.ation for the fallout of her truth to come barreling down upon her.
I shouldn't have told him, she thinks to herself. I should've said I didn't remember.
”I told you it was the night I found them alone in the bathroom,” Anna reminds Viktor, but Casey only hears the mumbled relay of information. ”It was the same night he slapped me.”
”That f.u.c.king animal,” Viktor hisses back. Now looking up to Cilas, he accuses, ”You let him f.u.c.king touch her.”
”No,” Anna calls from her corner. ”Ci wasn't here. He wouldn't have let anything happen to her.”
Viktor dismisses Anna's interjection. ”This...” He lowers his voice, but Casey can still hear the soft murmur of it. ”It's inexcusable. All of it. He'll pay. Hoss will see to that, or I will and if I do...”
”Viktor,” Anna pleads, wide eyes staring from him to Casey.
Turning toward her again, Viktor's hands reach to Casey's arms before he pulls them away from her body with more force than needed. Immediately, she complies as he places them back in her lap and holds them steady.
Feigning a smile so incredibly wide, he holds Casey's hands tightly. Speaking to Anna but looking at Casey, Viktor explains what Casey couldn't possibly understand. ”This is why we're leaving. There's nothing more here. She's already gone.”
She's already gone? Casey doesn't question him, but looks up to Anna quickly.
Anna starts to say something, but the knock on the door stops her before she can.
Cilas steps forward and puts his hand on the doork.n.o.b before silently turning back to Viktor for permission to open.
Chapter Ten.
”You don't need st.i.tches,” Em advises, holding the alcohol swab above my badly cut eye. She's using more pressure than I know she needs to. She's still shaking after witnessing what happened. ”But you need to keep ice on it.”
”Thanks,” I reply, grabbing the swab from her hand so she can continue rummaging through the first-aid kit.
Shaking her head to herself, she whispers quietly, yet knowing I can hear her fine, ”I told you we should have stayed in tonight, but nope. Max wanted to go out.”
”Babe,” I start, not wis.h.i.+ng to hear her continue. ”We need to get out more. Sittin' around here is driving us both crazy,” I remind her.
”Did you recognize the man at the bar from anywhere? Had you seen him before?”
”No, not a clue who he is.” I move the hair from her face before stating, ”You didn't know him, either.”
Shaking her head, she utters with worry, ”No, I didn't.”
Grabbing her and pulling her to my side, I try to make light in the darkness of our evening. ”s.h.i.+t follows us, Em. It does.”
She sighs, turns in place, and kisses my neck. ”I'm glad you're okay. It could've been so much worse.”
”It wasn't.”
”It could've been.” I can see her eyes are tired from worry. ”I hated seeing you like that,” she tells me, no longer smirking or smiling at all.
”I've been hit before, Em.”
”Years ago,” she corrects. ”Back then, you were fighting as boys, not men.”
”It's over,” I whisper, grabbing her wrist in rea.s.surance. ”It would've only been worse had you not been there, but you were and it was fine.”
”He was a bully,” she states with a huff.
I try not to smile at her, but now that we're home and she's safe, it's tough not to. ”Bully?”
”Whatever. You know what I mean. You didn't do anything to provoke him.”
”Right then. Bully.” I'm still smirking, but can't help it.
Em moves in for a welcome change of subject. ”I'm working tomorrow. I'll pick up dinner on the way home. Maybe you should go see your dad or Tommy or...”
Squeezing her wrist in my hand, it stops her from avoiding my eyes. I bring it toward me and hold it tightly on my lap. ”Stop trying to keep me busy. I'll check in the shop tomorrow and see if Luke needs anything done.”
”He's going to fire you soon if you don't go back.”
”The shop is slow this time of year. And he loves me. He won't fire me.”
She smiles finally, putting the box on the floor, then grabbing the television remote and burrowing herself in my side. ”Hard not to love a man with a big black eye.”
”Oh, yeah? Something about the danger of it you like?”
”No,” she answers, focusing on the show she's just put on. ”I feel sorry for you. You got your a.s.s kicked tonight. That can't be easy on someone's ego, especially yours.”
Rather than walk further into her bulls.h.i.+t, I accept what she says as her way of being okay with the way our s.h.i.+tty night ended. We're together, in our apartment, alone and safe. It's a small blessing but one I'm thankful for.
A couple hours later, as I'm about to put a sleeping Em to bed, my cell phone rings in my jacket. Walking over and pulling it out, I find the caller ID states 'unknown'.
I slide the phone to connect but before I'm able to say a word, the voice comes through directly. ”This Max Taylor?”
My mind still holds onto the vision of the man in the suit, so I'm on edge. ”Yes, Max Taylor. Who the f.u.c.k is this?”
”This is Brayden. Aimes told me to get in touch,” he says first. ”I've got some information he wants pa.s.sed along.”
Looking behind me to Emilyn sleeping on the couch, I think better of it and move this conversation out to the back balcony. ”Hang on,” I tell him as I open the door and step out into the night air. ”So, you said you had something from Aimes?” I ask, but I'm leery considering Aimes never mentioned anything about this man. Not his name or his involvement in this. However, I haven't talked to Aimes recently, so I immediately ask, ”How do I know you're legit?”
Laughing once, he comments, ”He said you'd be skeptical. I'm supposed to tell you that you'd better be takin' care of Em or he plans to move in on all of that.”
I don't smile because Brayden speaks the truth. That is exactly something Aimes would say. ”So, you know him,” I concede. ”Where the f.u.c.k is he?”