Safe Harbor, page 11
He reached out and brushed his fingers over her neck, his touch so soft it was almost painful.
Cassie closed her eyes, trying her best to ignore the swell of emotion rising in her chest. She wouldn’t let herself feel anything, not right now. Not in this room or in front of Brock. She needed to keep it together until she got out of here.
When she finally found the strength to open her eyes again, she found his steady gaze filled with unshed tears. He reached out and pushed the hair back from her face while his throat bobbed, and the gesture was so intimate, his gaze on her so intense, it sent Cassie’s heart into a tailspin.
“He did this to you?” he asked, his voice thick.
Cassie’s tongue turned to glue, the words stuck in her throat. With his eyes on her like that, suddenly, she found it hard to deny.
But she couldn’t tell him the truth. He was in uniform, which meant he was on the job, and if she admitted it to him, he had a duty to hold Carl responsible, and Cassie knew better. Carl would get out in twenty-four hours, and it would only make things worse at a time when she needed to keep the peace, at least until the spot at Manor House opened up. Then she’d leave early.
Still, her throat was clogged with the truth, and the lie seemed so ridiculous now, it wouldn’t come, and when she opened her mouth to speak, nothing came out. Which was probably for the best.
“Dang-it, Cass!” Brock raked a hand through his hair and took a step back. A vein pulsed in his forehead as he placed his hands on his hips and his jaw tightened. “Why are you protecting him? Why, especially now?”
“I’m not protecting him. I’m–” She stopped short and closed her mouth. Part of her wanted to tell him about the baby, but for reasons she couldn’t explain, the words refused to form on her lips. Maybe because she thought he might judge her. Or because she knew how he felt about her, and the last thing she wanted to do was to cause him more pain.
He waited, his gaze searching hers as if he might be able to fill in the blanks, so she said, “Carl wasn’t even home. Someone broke into the house and I–”
Brock laughed and shook his head, cutting her off. “Right.”
“I’m serious,” she said, imploring him to believe her with her eyes. “Carl’s still there at Ursula’s. You can go and check.”
“And will I find him with your blood on his knuckles, Cass? Or scratches on his face from when he choked you?”
“Brock . . .” She glanced away, unable to hold his gaze any longer.
“What? That’s not what happened? I know. You already told me.” He walked to the other side of the exam table, to where she turned her gaze, and he gently pressed his fingertips beneath her chin, lifting her eyes to meet his.
“I’m leaving soon, I promise. But first, I need to get my mother settled.”
“Fine, but you’re coming home and staying with me until then. No way am I letting you go back to him.”
Cassie’s mouth fell open. “I can’t–”
“You can. And you will.”
Her cheeks flushed and a rush of anger charged her like a snorting bull, ready to attack. “I will not take orders from you.”
“Oh, but you’ll take abuse from him?”
The blood drained from her face, the flush in her cheeks disappearing. Even worse than his cutting words was the anguish etched in the lines of his face. “I’m sorry. That was out of line,” he murmured.
A knock on the door interrupted them, and Cassie ripped her gaze away from his to find the doctor hovering in the entryway. When he cleared his throat, Brock took a step away from her.
“I have your discharge papers,” the doctor said. “As soon as you’re finished with Deputy Bowman, you’re free to leave.”
“Great.” Cassie stood and brushed past Brock toward the doctor. “We’re just about finished here, too,” she said, glancing at Brock expectantly.
He nodded. “Yeah, that’s right. You said Carl was at Ursula’s, right?”
Cassie frowned, but before she could say anything else, Brock spun on his heel and left the room. “Wait!” she called out, but it was no use; he was already headed down the hall.
Cassie turned back to the doctor and snatched the papers from his hands, then said “thank you” as she hurried out the door after Brock’s retreating form.
“Brock, wait,” she hissed, trying not to disturb the other patients in their cubicles. “Where are you going?”
Once he got to the end of the hallway, by the double doors to the parking lot, she caught up to him. Air rattled in her lungs painfully as she tried to catch her breath through her sore throat. “Where are you–”
“If you’re not going to do anything about it–” Brock pushed through the double doors “--then I am.”
Chapter Fourteen
Cassie throttled the gas in her junk car as she raced toward Ursula’s.
Surely Brock wouldn’t do anything crazy. He was a man of integrity. A man of the law. And he was in uniform. If he stepped over his professional boundaries as a cop, he’d sully his reputation and risk his job.
She sped past MagPies, Bayshore Market, restaurants and shopping centers, most of them long since closed, their lights dimmed in the inky night. The harbor blurred past in a swirl of color, her cue to take a left, putting her further away from the water and closer to Ursula’s, the bar Carl often spent time at after work.
The distant glow of the neon lights beckoned her, but she didn’t slow down, not until the dingy cedar planks of the bar came into view and she turned into the parking lot. She shoved the car into park and turned off the ignition when movement outside the door caught her eye, followed by the sound of shouting.
Her pulse picked up as she craned her neck, seeking the source of the sound even though she already knew what she’d find. And just like she imagined, she zeroed in on Carl and Brock standing face-to-face on the sidewalk.
Without hesitation, she flung her door open and hopped out of the car, knowing full well to anyone watching, she looked like something out of a horror movie, running toward these two men with her bloodied eye, her busted nose, and bruised neck. But she didn’t have time to care. Right now, the only thing that mattered was stopping Brock before he did something he’d regret.
Brock’s hands rested on his hips as he took a step closer to Carl, who wore a smirk so smug, she thought Brock might pop him in the mouth just to remove it. Whatever transpired prior to her arrival, she had no idea. Either Brock caught Carl on his way out the door, or he’d gone inside and pulled him out. Either way, she needed to diffuse the situation.
“Don’t touch her again.” Brock pointed a finger at Carl, his eyes a blaze of blue under the neon lights of the bar.
“Why, I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Carl smirked.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about, so why don’t you stop pretending. No one in this town is falling for the doting husband act. We see right through you.”
Cassie wondered if that was true. Did everyone in town know?
She stopped beside them, winded and out of breath, or maybe it was just that difficult for her to breathe through her swollen windpipe. Regardless, it took her a second to speak, and when she did, her voice came out shaky and broken like machine gun fire. “Brock. Please. Don’t.”
Carl rocked back on his heels and laughed, and she could smell the whisky on his breath. “You heard the little lady. Don’t,” Carl mocked. Then his smile faded, and he stared straight into Brock’s eyes, his expression as cold and hard as stone. If his heavy-lidded, glossy eyes were any indication, he’d had a lot to drink in the hour she’d been gone.
“Cassie, you need to leave,” Brock said through gritted teeth. “It’s about time someone set him straight.”
“Didn’t you hear her, man?” Carl shoved his hands in his pockets. “She wanted you to leave.”
Cassie turned to Carl and tugged on his arm. If she couldn’t reason with Brock, then maybe she could persuade him to back down and go with her. “Come on, let’s go home, Carl.”
“Get off.” Carl yanked his arm out from under Cassie’s grip. “You listen here,” he said, taking a stumbling step toward Brock. “She goes home with me.” He pointed to his chest. “Me,” he repeated.
Another step closer, and they stood only a foot apart, staring at each other, fists clenched, posture rigid, like two snorting bulls ready to fight.
“Maybe for now,” Brock said, “but not for long. You have my word on that.”
Panic wrenched inside Cassie’s chest. What was he doing?
She wanted to scream at him, ask him if he was insane because everything he was saying would make things so much worse. Because if he gave Carl even the slightest inclination she had been thinking of leaving, he’d have her on lockdown.
Carl simply snorted while Cassie bit the inside of her cheek, praying he’d turn and leave with her before any more was said.
“She may not be strong enough to fight back, but I am. Why don’t you try taking a swing at me, huh?” Brock smiled when Carl said nothing. “What? Nothing to say? You’re such a big, bad guy, beating your wife down. Does it make you feel big and strong?” Brock shoved the sleeves of his shirt up and placed his hands, palms out, wiggling his fingers for Carl to come closer. “Come on. Try me. Let’s see how big you feel when we’re done.”
“Brock!” Cassie stared in open-mouthed shock.
Brock was always so calm and reserved, a voice of reason. She’d never seen him like this.
“Oooh.” Carl wiggled his fingers. “Says the man with the badge and the gun.”
“I only need my hands. Isn’t that what you used on her?” Brock asked.
Cassie’s pulse skyrocketed. “Carl, maybe we should just go.”
Carl scoffed and glanced away, making a sucking sound with his teeth before he turned his attention back to Brock. “I knew you had a thing for her, always have. Pathetic, considering she’s married.”
“Pathetic is any man who lays a hand on a woman,” Brock said through gritted teeth.
Carl made a tsking sound and took a step closer, his dark eyes intent on Brock’s face. “You never stood a chance, not back in high school and not now. You know, I knew you liked her. But it was just so easy taking her from you.”
Cassie’s stomach churned as she watched a flicker of emotion pass through Brock’s eyes before he took a step forward, leaving only a foot of space between them. “I swear, right here, right now, that if you ever touch her again, I will end you.”
A choking sound came from the back of Carl’s throat. “Is that supposed to be some kind of threat, officer?”
“Not a threat. A promise.”
“I’m not scared of you.”
“Maybe you should be.”
Carl snorted. “Guess what, lawman. It doesn’t matter how hard you try; she’s still mine. Her head, her heart, that body. I can do with her what I want, when I want. And no one can stop me. Not you. Not anybody.”
The muscle in Brock’s jaw flickered while his fists tightened by his side.
Cassie stepped between them, pushing one hand against each of their chests. “Stop, guys. It’s time to go. We’re gonna cause a scene,” she said, noting the cluster of people who had already stopped on the sidewalk to watch.
Then to Brock, she whispered, “You’re in uniform, Brock. Stop and think about what you’re doing.”
Carl’s head snapped to hers. “Shut up and go wait in the car!”
“I just . . .” Cassie’s palms grew slick with sweat while the heat of embarrassment scorched her insides. “I think we should go,” she said in a soft voice.
“Did I ask you what you think?” Carl yelled in her face. Grabbing her arm, he twisted it until she released a high-pitched shriek. “I said, go wait for me in the car,” he hollered at the same moment Brock drew his fist back.
“I told you not to touch her,” he said at the same moment his knuckles made contact with Carl’s nose.
Carl howled in pain, his hands flying up to his face, while Brock lunged forward, gripping him by the neck of his shirt. The sound of cotton ripping filled Cassie’s ears as he shook Carl by the shoulders. A trickle of blood dripped from Carl’s nose, and it was probably the only time in her life she’d ever seen the hint of fear in his eyes.
“Don’t ever touch her again. You hear me?” Brock said. And just when she thought he might hit him again or do something worse, he tossed him back.
Carl stumbled but quickly righted himself. Turning his head while keeping his eyes on Brock, he spat onto the ground by his feet at the same time sirens wailed in the distance and a flash of red and blue filled the parking lot.
Cassie gasped as she glanced out to see a Bayshore PD cruiser. Someone must’ve called the police from inside the bar.
Brock took a step back, placing his hands in the air so the officer could see them as he jumped out of his car. “Oh heck, Bowman, I didn’t know you were already here.”
“He hit me!” Carl pointed at Brock and Cassie closed her eyes. “This officer, here, came inside and practically pulled me out of the bar and then he assaulted me, completely unprovoked.”
Brock hung his head while the officer frowned and looked at him for answers. “Is that true?”
Brock nodded, and the officer sighed. “I don’t know what the heck has gotten into you, but you’re gonna have to come with me back to the precinct and see what the chief has to say about this..”
“I want to press charges,” Carl said, and the officer sighed.
“Sure thing. Just give me a minute.” The officer turned to Brock and exchanged a few words with him before he stepped forward to take Carl’s statement while Brock headed to his cruiser.
Cassie watched with tears in her eyes as Brock got inside, his expression stone sober as he got behind the wheel. And when he glanced up at her and their eyes met, she thought, Oh Brock, what did you do?
Chapter Fifteen
Cassie stared outside the kitchen window into the rising sun. The sky was clear. A salmon stripe of color cast a golden glow over the surrounding houses, the sun barely peeking over the rooftops. It was the kind of view worth waking for, though Cassie had woken involuntarily. Every muscle in her body ached. Her eyelids were filled with lead due to a night of fitful sleep, and her throat felt as if she’d swallowed a handful of nails. Yet she knew if she laid back down, she’d only toss and turn further, the throbbing in her nose would start again, and she’d be no closer to relief than she was now.
Steam curled from the mug of green tea in her hands as she lifted it to her lips. The tentative sip helped to soothe her raw throat, and though she still preferred coffee, she had no taste for it lately. Which was just as well, since caffeine wasn’t good for the baby.
She glanced down at the flat slope of her stomach, trying to picture it swollen and round. So much for keeping you a secret, little one, she thought. Though the shock of her pregnancy was still fresh, she’d had some time to let it sink in and she’d begun to think of the baby inside of her as an actual human being, no matter how tiny. She pictured the downy soft hair, the little lips, fingers and toes. The round, cherub cheeks and soft skin. She imagined all the stories they’d read, the songs they’d sing together. Family dinners and picnics and catching fireflies in the summer. And somehow, it made everything she’d gone through until this point worth it–all the mental scars and the bruises and the fear.
Cassie glanced up from her stomach, back outside to where the sun now shined high in the sky, and her thoughts drifted to last night. She had no clue what happened with Brock, but after the officer took one look at Cassie’s bruises and started asking questions, Carl quickly backed off filing assault charges and ushered her to the car. And while she had hoped she could stay with her mother a few more months until she lost her memory and wouldn’t mourn Cassie’s absence, Cassie wasn’t sure it was feasible. Would it even be safe? She nearly died last night. The doctor said she was lucky the baby hadn’t been injured, or worse.
Though Carl seemed thrilled with her pregnancy now, how long would that last? Weeks? A month. How long until he hurt her again?
Waiting for the two weeks until she could get her mother into Manor Hill was long enough. After that, she might have to accept the fact that she may not get to say goodbye. After all, she’d be lucky to escape at all under Carl’s watchful eye. He was possessive and controlling before he found out she was pregnant; she couldn’t imagine what he’d be like now.
A creek on the stairs alerted Cassie to Carl’s presence, and she froze. Her muscles stiffened and her blood ran cold as she waited for him to approach. With the exception of a drunken tirade upon their return home last night, they hadn’t discussed what happened yesterday. Not at the house or at the bar, and Cassie’s stomach turned over at the mere prospect of having to face him. She had no clue what he would say about the confrontation with Brock. Would he blame her? Any other time, he would. Cassie only prayed the fresh news of the baby made a difference.
“You’re up early,” his voice called out from the hallway.
Cassie wrapped her arms around her chest. “I couldn’t sleep.”
The hair on her arms rose at the subtle sound of the footsteps behind her. “I have something for you.”
Cassie closed her eyes, wishing if she ignored him, he’d disappear. But she knew better, so she slowly turned, a wariness in her expression as she met his eyes, and she watched as his gaze made swift work of her face, her neck.
His throat bobbed, and he ran a hand over his face. Then he did something she’d never seen him do before. He reached out and brushed a finger over her throat, and his touch was so featherlight it was almost gentle, sweet. If only he hadn’t been the one to put the bruises there.
His eyes lifted to meet hers, and he exhaled a ragged breath. “I’m sorry, babe.I just got so angry. The last thing I ever meant to do was hurt you.”
“Why did you, then?” she asked in a shaky voice, and his eyes widened.
