Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

Bronwyn

I ’m spending today processing after that rough call. I’ve never had anyone phone in and kill themselves while I was speaking to them. People have hung up on me, but this was different.

I really think Nancy was relieved at the knowledge that she was going to end her life to see her husband, I just wish things had been different for her.

“Bowen, tell me what you think about this call is making you spiral?” Dr. Holly, my therapist asks.

Blowing out a breath, I think about it. “I think Nancy could have been me,” I whisper. “My girlfriend disappeared because my father was abusing her, and I felt all this guilt, horror, and grief that she was gone. Sure, we were both young, but we had this connection that I don’t think I’ll ever have again.”

The closest I’ve come is Jack. Dahlia knows every single thing about me, even the stuff that scares me. Jack sees the echoes of that, and refuses to flinch away from it.

“If Jack didn’t see my pain because he felt some of it too, I don’t know if I would be sitting here today,” I admit. “He had me agree to go to therapy, helped me through the days I didn’t want to get out of bed. I think the parallels of it really fucking scare me.”

“That’s what I think too,” Dr. Holly says. She only knows me as Bowen, because Jack worked with his team at lightning speed to hide me. “It hit closer to home than simply being someone bearing witness to a suicide. That alone is enough to make anyone struggle.”

Nodding, I talk about that with her before the session ends. I used to come once a week when I was in high school. As things got better, I’ve been able to scale down to a monthly maintenance appointment instead.

Life is hard, working on my mental health is a long term goal. That’s why I asked for an emergency appointment, when I texted her about what happened.

Walking out of the building afterwards, I feel lighter, and at odds with what I want to do with the rest of my day. I need to eat, and go shopping for Dahlia’s birthday present. I know Jack has some plans, but I want to get her some things too.

I’m pretty much within walking distance of everything right now, so I head toward a taco shop for food.

They’re always so nice here, with fast service, and really great lunch specials. Sitting at the bar area in my cute dark-green romper with flower print and sandals, I ignore everyone around me as I eat my food.

I don’t find eating alone an issue, but I do not enjoy the attention it brings. Men think that it’s an open invitation for a conversation, while my dance card is full.

I’m very satisfied at home.

Finishing up my meal, I pay and tip, sighing happily now that the likelihood that I’d stab someone for food has passed.

I haven’t really touched the money from my job, since I don’t have many expenses to pay. Jack has my cell phone and car insurance on autopay through a separate account, and he paid for my vehicle in cash.

That means, I can spend some of it on Dahlia.

Bubbling over with excitement, I head to one of my favorite jewelry stores. I noticed she didn’t have any of her own, because it’s been stolen over the years, and I want to buy her some.

Why is it my favorite? I like to come in here periodically and window shop. I don’t really splurge unless it’s on other people. My location is always on in the settings of my phone for Jack’s peace of mind.

It wasn’t during the school year, and I would have to be blind not to have felt his anxiety. If it makes him happy, I don’t have a dog in that fight. He can have it.

Dahlia also has a phone now that Jack bought her, but half the time she forgets it at home. It’s no longer a habit to have it with her, though she’s usually with one of us or at the music school.

I love how excited she is to go to work and classes. Sullivan is a hard ass, but has no issues with her quality of work.

Maybe I’ll surprise her at work.

“Hello, Miss. Are you drooling today, or can I help you?” Mr. Stonewell asks, making me laugh.

“I’m shopping for my girlfriend,” I explain with a nod. There’s a pair of violet tiered earrings I see that she’ll love. They’re on a gradient, and start clear, then light pink, fuschia, and finally shades of violet. They are probably about two and a half inches long and stunning.

“May I see the tiered violet earrings please?”

The price tag is a bit steep, but now that I’ve seen them, I can’t leave them.

“Oh, you have very good taste,” he murmurs, lifting the earrings from the case.

Biting my bottom lip, I decide I can’t afford all the jewelry I want to buy. Damn my expensive taste. As I lament, my phone buzzes in my purse.

“I’ll take them,” I tell him, watching the way the light reflects on the facets of the earrings. “They’re stunning.”

Pulling out my phone, I almost giggle as I see Jack is calling me.

“Hey Jack,” I say, pulling out my card to pay as Mr. Stonewell asks if I want anything else.

“You’re at Stonewell Jewelers, aren’t you ?” he asks. I swear, I’m not even surprised anymore.

“I am,” I confirm. “Do you want me to pick something up for you? I’m sure there are earrings you’d enjoy.”

I really am a fucking brat. I enjoy pushing the edge, and watching him spank Dahlia was fucking hot.

“Ha, ha ,” he says. “ What are you getting for Dee ?”

He must be where others are around .

“I found some tiered violet earrings she’ll love,” I tell him. “I wanted a pair of bangles to add to it, but I’m going to need to come back for them another day.”

“Put the bracelets on our card ,” he growls, making me shiver. God, why does he have to be so damn sexy. I swear, I just have to hear his voice, and my pussy is ready to start panting. Down girl. It also didn’t escape my notice that he didn’t call it his card.

“Jack,” I admonish. “You don’t even know what they cost.”

“Money doesn’t matter on birthdays ,” he says stubbornly. “ I don’t need to know the cost, I’ll just pay it when the bill comes due at the end of the month. This way you can get everything you want. I would offer to put it all on our card, but you’ll be a brat about it.”

He’s not wrong .

“Alright,” I mutter. I do really want to get her both the bangles and earrings. The bangles are hammered silver, with black and violet crystal clusters spaced along the bracelets. “Thank you.”

“No thanks needed, baby. You’re saving me a trip to the jewelry store ,” he says easily. I somehow don’t think this was in his plans at all, but he is sweet. “ Have fun, I have to go in to meet with a client, I’ll see you later.”

“Bye,” I say, hanging up. “Can I get the bangles as well, please?”

Mr. Stonewell simply grins, and doesn’t say a word when I ask to put my purchases on two cards.

“Thank you,” I say happily, walking out of the store with my bags in hand. I stop at two more stores, finding a pretty pair of shoes for work for her, as well as some new makeup. While she doesn’t need it, sometimes it’s nice to wear it.

I carry pepper spray in my purse and a pocket knife at all times, ever since the homeless man scared the shit out of me, in the parking garage. I’m considering taking self defense classes because it’s a smart choice, and I’m thinking about asking Dahlia to go with me, when someone yanks on my arm, pulling me into an alley.

Inhaling sharply, I scream, only to have my breath cut off as a large, masked man shoves me against the brick wall with his hand gripping my throat.

“Shut up,” he growls as I drop all of my purchases, slapping at his face and kicking at him. I wish I was wearing boots, because then I may make even a slight impact if I were.

Squeezing harder, he lifts me off the ground, my short legs trying to kick him away.

Fuck, I can’t breathe. There are already spots floating in my vision, and all I want is for him to let me go.

“Oh Bronwyn,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly and difficult to hear. No one should know that name! “Your daddy really misses you, but he misses his little whore even more. Have you seen her? Will she come out of hiding if I hurt you?”

It’s hard to grasp if he knows Dahlia is living with me or not, but the shock of his words forces me to fucking think. My romper has pockets, and that’s where my knife is. The pepper spray isn’t going to fucking help me now.

It’s difficult to think, but I manage to continue to slap and kick as he gets even closer, pinning me to the wall with his body and fist. He reminds me of why I despise most men, his large body attempting to threaten and dominate me.

His dick is hard and repulsive against me, and all I can see of his face are his thick lips.

Fuck no.

He’s robbed me of breath and my voice, and I wish I had a bigger goddamn knife as I shove my hand into my pocket, pulling out my blade. He can’t see my movements, because he’s so fucking intent on watching me pass out.

Flicking open my knife, I stab him wildly with it in his arms and face, willing him to let me go so I can breathe.

My vision is going very black, and I can’t pass out.

“Fucking bitch!” the man back hands me as he throws me away from him, glaring at his arms. Jack didn’t get me just any pocket knife, it’s a Benchmade mini barrage, and did some damage.

He told me it had a lower learning curve to open if I was panicking and needed to use it.

I’m glad he thought of that.

Gasping and coughing, I pull out my phone, as my bag is still crossed over my chest, so I didn’t lose it. Video calling Jack, I hold it up so he’ll see my assailant.

“Give me the phone!” the man roars, coming closer as Jack picks up the call. I know he’s in a meeting, but fuck it.

“Bee? Fuck. Get the fuck away from her!” Jack roars. I can tell he’s texting someone as I cough and attempt to get oxygen. He’s at a conference table, but his sole focus is on what’s happening with me.

“There’s a cop coming your way right now, dickhead. You’re dripping DNA and blood everywhere.”

The meat head looks down at his arms, grimacing at the mess I made of them and his face. His ski mask is now torn to shreds, and I can see his unshaven cheeks, pronounced chin, and thick lips.

I memorize all of it, including the fact that he’s Caucasian, and has bloody skull tattoos on his arms where I cut the black shirt he’s wearing.

Pushing myself off the ground, I wince, knowing I’m now wearing whatever dirt was in this alleyway.

“Or please, take your chances with the policemen who are coming,” I rasp, my voice sounding terrible from being strangled. The sounds of sirens get louder, and the man curses.

“Please tell my father ‘hello’ and that Dahlia is dead. He can’t rape people who are at peace and free of him.”

I’m screaming at him, and people are peering into the alley.

“Hey! What’s going on? Are you okay?” a man wearing a business suit asks, looking concerned. You always hear that people ignore things like this in a big city. It’s nice to see at least today, that’s not true.

“No, I’m not okay. He strangled me,” I gasp, holding tightly to my knife and phone, all my purchases scattered around me.

The man in the business suit lunges for the shithead who hurt me, which causes him to take off with a curse.

“Stop!” roars the man in the suit, but my father’s henchman leaps up and grabs the wall at the end of the alley, vaulting his large body up on sheer strength alone.

“Fuck,” I whisper.

“I need to see you. Come on, turn the fucking camera around, baby,” Jack urges, and I do as he asks, still sitting on the ground because I’m too lightheaded to do anything else. “Fuck, he hit you.”

“Yeah,” I say, coughing. “But I’m fine. We need to talk, Jack.”

In the time we’ve been speaking he’s already left the conference room, and he’s running.

“I can see where you are. I texted Elira to get the dispatchers on your location,” he grunts, his voice barely bothered by the running he’s doing.

“Can I help you up, Miss?” the man in the suit asks. “Please, it’s kind of pissing me off seeing you sitting on the ground.”

Sighing, I glance down at my knife, closing it and shoving it back into my pocket. I don’t have much blood on me, which will help with the police. I don’t really know if I’m allowed to have it on me.

“I never saw it,” the man says, holding out his hand. “It probably saved your life.”

Taking his hand, I let him haul me up, whimpering as the world spins on me.

“I’m here,” Jack gasps, coming around the corner, and barely catching me around the waist. “Thank you for helping her.”

“You’re the guy who was yelling on the phone?” he asks as Jack nods.

“She video called me so there would be a witness,” Jack says.

“I’m so sore,” I mutter.

“I think you’re taking a visit to the hospital, beautiful,” Jack mutters, picking me up into his arms.

“Ugh, hospitals suck,” I groan as a police car pulls into the alley. It’s barely large enough for it, and takes up most of the entrance.

“Okay, what’s going on here?” the cop on the passenger side asks as he gets out of the vehicle.

“I was walking and a man grabbed me by the arm,” I begin. It’s not a long story, and I keep Dahlia and the knife completely out of it, which makes it even shorter of a story.

“You have blood on you, is that yours or his?” the officer asks, confused.

“His,” I say, preparing to lie. “My nails are sharp, and I attacked him back.”

“I shouldn’t say this, but good for you,” his partner says. “Are you feeling lightheaded? Why are you being carried?”

“There are two of you,” I mutter, sighing. “I feel like shit.”

“Do you need an ambulance? I need a statement, but I can meet you at the hospital,” the officer who was driving suggests.

Shifting me in his arms, Jack hands the man a business card. “She’s refusing an ambulance, but I’m taking her to Corewell University Hospital,” he says. “Bowen shouldn’t be seeing two of anything.”

The man in the business suit picks up my bags, ensuring I have everything. “Shopping spree?” he asks with a small smile.

“My girlfriend’s birthday is this week,” I explain with a smile. People have been calling their best friends who are girls ‘girlfriends’ since forever, so that’s how he takes it.

“Lucky girl. You sound like a wonderful friend,” he says. “Take care of yourself. That guy was fucking huge.”

Shivering, I nod. The police officers have my assailant’s full description, and I was told the skull happens to be a crew tattoo. That’s fucking wonderful. Maybe Gareth hired some muscle, but I don’t know how he found out where I am.

The police officers say they’ll be in touch, then leave, and Jack starts walking me through the streets back to his truck. I should tell him I can walk, right? I lost a fucking shoe though, and no one could find it, so I’m in no condition to convince Jack of anything.

Laying my head on his chest, I wince as I close my eyes against the bright sunlight.

“Uh-uh, baby. Stay awake, please,” he murmurs. “Your head hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I whimper. “I don’t mean to be a baby.”

“Fuck, you’re not at all. You were incredible,” Jack praises. “You remembered you had your knife, fought off someone who sounded as if he was a lot bigger than you, and called me as your witness, so he wouldn’t come back for more. You’re my goddamn hero.”

“Why?” I ask as he hits the button for the elevator. I’m holding onto the bags in my lap, blinking to stay awake.

“You stayed alive for us,” Jack says. “Every day you fight to stay, is a win.”

Maybe it’s my therapy appointment, or what happened yesterday compounded by the attack, but I burst into tears.

“There it is,” he murmurs. “You’re safe with me.”

Striding across the car garage as if it’s totally normal to be carrying a sobbing woman, he unlocks the truck and sits me in the seat. Wrapping his arms around me, he gives me a hug, and I inhale his sandalwood scent.

I shudder as I hold him tightly, my tears beginning to subside.

“I’m okay,” I rasp. “Well… no, I’m not, but I can talk to you now.”

Pulling back, he kisses my forehead. “I have a water bottle in here. Please be a good girl and drink,” he says, shutting the door.

Sighing, I turn to find the bottle, and take a sip from the straw. It’s ice cold, helping to soothe my throat. Jack comes around and climbs into the truck, taking a cleansing breath.

“Come on, Bee. Tell me,” he grunts, once the door is shut to the rest of the world.

“Gareth found me,” I tell him, my hands trembling. “That guy kept asking me about Dahlia, wanting to know where she was. I told him that he couldn’t bring the dead back to life to torment.”

“Goddamn it,” Jack sighs, punching the steering wheel.

“Jack,” I croak, the tone I use making me cough. “That won’t help.”

“I’m calling the school,” he mutters. “There’s no way to trace my call. Do you want Dolly to come to the hospital with us?”

I do, but I shake my head as I rub my bare foot over the one sandal I have left. The presents I bought are on the floor next to me, and I’m sure I’m going to bruise pretty spectacularly.

“She had class, right? Make sure she’s okay, and then tell Sullivan to keep her in the school until you go pick her up,” I tell him, trying to get comfortable. “I really hope they don’t keep me for long.”

“Stay awake, and I can ensure they don’t,” Jack teases me, putting the car into reverse as he calls Dahlia.

Ugh, today really was such a great day up until this.