“Dude, she said she was separated.”
“First off, don’t fuckingdudeme,” I told him. Then I had to make something abundantly clear. “Second, I’m not her sorry excuse of a husband. Either way, if I were you, I’d get the hell out of here.”
Then the slimy bastard leaned around me to ask Margo, “You okay? Want me to drop you somewhere?”
I answered for her, letting him know she was more than fine, and shooed him off.
With my focus entirely back on Margo, I asked, “What did he do?”
I didn’t mean the loser prick who just exited stage right, and she knew it too.
Rather than answer, she reached for her glass.
Unable to stomach watching her drinking something another man had bought for her, I took her glass from her hand and set it aside. “Tell me what happened. I’ll get you a new drink that piece of shit didn’t buy you before I take you back to my place and make you forget both of them. If that’s what you need. Do you need a reminder of how we work?”
“Mick, please,” she begged, and my impatience reared its ugly head.
“Talk,” I said firmly, my coat still on, the cold air long forgotten, my internal temperature rising.
“Same as usual,” she whispered.
She typically didn’t go into detail, but the bruises and scars I’d seen on her forced my imagination to work overtime.
“How did you know I was here?” she asked.
“Fucker,” I said, ignoring her question. After muttering some other nonsense under my breath, I said, “You need to push forward and get out like you said you would. If not for me, then—”
I didn’t have a chance to finish because her phone rang, interrupting. I wanted to tell her to do it for herself, but really, I wanted it for me.
Margo’s voice started to quiver during her low phone conversation, then panic swirled around her as she stood and yanked her coat on.
Only one thing could scare her this way—her daughter.
I reached past her and tossed cash on the bar, then took her hand in mine, giving zero fucks about who saw. Margo needed someone—neededme—and fuck it, I was going to be there for her.
I guided her out through the lobby, toward the valet, and into my SUV.
As she slid into the passenger seat, she just said, “Mass General. Now.”
I put it in the GPS, making sure we went the most direct route.
As I pulled away from the curb, I made my feelings known. “You bought yourself a day or two, Margo, but this has to end,” I said, meaning her sham of a marriage to a brutal man.
I wanted us.
I needed us to see what we could become, free of shackles. I’d care for her and her daughter like they were my most precious commodities.
I wasn’t even sure how I knew any of that, or how I even knew I wanted whatever this was or is. I just did.
Margaret
Before Mick could even put the car in park in front of the emergency department, I flung open the door and ran to the entrance.
“I’ll park and be in,” Mick called after me.
I thought about telling him not to. It wasn’t his place to take care of me, but I only nodded without turning around. For years, I’d had no one to lean on—this was new to me. I assumed Mick would head to the emergency room. He hadn’t asked exactly where I was going, but he was resourceful.
We’d kept the chatter to a minimum in the car as I fiddled with my phone and waited for an update from Sheila. It was my preference not to dissect my erratic behavior while Mick’s words rolled around in my belly and mind.
