I know Al has been crystal clear about not wanting me to act like her bodyguard, but I didn’t do enough to protect Momma from Dad, and I promised things would be different with Alondra.
I move closer, hearing Macy ask if she can let me in, and it takes every ounce of my self-control to wait for Al’s answer.
“It’s okay.”
Thank fuck.I push the door open further, stepping past Macy to get in the room, and I nearly fall to my knees when the light from the hallway shows the damage done to her face. One of her eyes is a hideous shade of purple, swollen shut, and my stomach rolls. I shut the door, reaching for the light switch, on a one-track mindset to make sure she’s okay and then I’m going to murder Bradley for laying even a finger on her.
“So how were the games?” Alondra asks, twisting her hands in her lap as she watches me.
Gentle. Be gentle with her. She’s not the one you’re upset with.
“I’m going to kill him,” I promise, dragging a hand over my jaw, feeling my entire body tremble with hatred.
Al’s shoulders sink, and I take a step forward to close the gap between us. Her cheekbone is an angry red beneath her eye, and I wish I’d been here. I know why I wasn’t, and I’m aware of how important hockey is, but Al was hurt, and I wasn’t here to stop it.
“Don’t say that, Jack. You know better than to sink to his level because of me.”
I look to the spot next to Alondra on the bed, and as if understanding the silent question, she nods.
She doesn’t have to tell me twice, and I perch on the side of her mattress, reaching to gently brush a stray curl out of Al’s face. How could he do this to her?
“Hehurtyou. I saw the broken stool, and they said you wouldn’t let them call me. Al, what the hell happened?” I ask, struggling to keep my emotions in check. Losing my mind doesn’t help Alondra.
Hesitation and skepticism fill her bruised features, and she glances down at her lap. “I filed a restraining order after he sent me a text last night, and Bradley was mad. I wasn’t thinking, and I went to look for my water bottle in my car, but Bradley was standing on the other side of the door. I’m okay,” she says, her words slurring together at a few parts from how quickly she’s trying to explain. I want to wrap my arms around her, but instead I turn, putting my head in my hands. “I’m okay,” Al repeats, but it only makes me feel worse.
She shouldn’t be trying to make me feel better about this.
“Why didn’t you call me?” I ask, and the bed dips behind me as Alondra moves closer. I should have known when I didn’t hear from her all day that something was wrong.
I should have been here, and maybe this wouldn’t have happened.
“There wasn’t anything you could do. At some point, I have to stand on my own,” she explains, pressing her lips to the back of my shoulder, yet it does little to ease me. “Jack, we’ve talked about this. I need a friend, not a bodyguard.”
It’s not fair for her to remind me when she’s sitting here with a fucking black eye and who knows what else. “As yourfriend, I get to worry about you. It’s my decision,” I say, leaving no room for argument. “Is it just your face?” I ask, twisting to look at her.
She nods, and the weight on my chest loosens, relieved by her answer. I would’ve thought it was worse.
“I think my eye is a badge of honor,” she tries to joke, cracking a smile.
“Don’t try to make light of this,” I say, guilt wreaking havoc on my internal war to stay right here with her. I should havebeen here to stop him. What good am I if I can’t protect Al when she needs me the most? “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
“I don’t want you to be sorry. It’s going to be over soon.”
“What did the police say? Did they arrest him for violating the restraining order?” I ask, and her entire body stiffens.No. I can tell by looking at Al she didn’t, but I need to hear her say it. “Al, you called the police, right?”
“No,” Alondra says, trying to straighten her shoulders, and my brain malfunctions.
“He showed up here after being served a restraining order, entered your apartment without being invited in, hit you in the face after spewing whatever bullshit I’m sure came out of his mouth, and you didn’t call the police?”
“Jack—”
I shake my head, needing to move to get rid of the energy begging to be let out. I stand, trying to make sense of why she wouldn’t have called. He hit her in the fucking face, and she didn’t call?
“Did he threaten you?” I ask, turning toward her, and Al is sitting there like a statue. This is it. He threatened her, but with what? “What did he say to you?”
My mind is spinning out with possibilities as she clamps her jaw shut, refusing to say anything. I drag my fingers through my hair, shoving aside the tiredness and ache setting into my bones from my game earlier.
“Alondra, if he threatened you, that’s all the more reason to call the police.” I’m trying to soften my delivery, but I’m terrified it won’t make a difference in what I say.
