I glance at the clock, a frown tugging down my brows. She’s been gone too long.
Excusing myself from the conversation between Ashley and her husband, I head back through the staff entrance, looking for her, but the stock room is empty and quiet, the music from the bar vibrating the walls.
“Niamh?” I yell her name but get nothing in response as I move to the fire exit, pushing on the bar to open it into the alley where the trash is.
A buzzing forms in my ears when I spot Niamh immediately. She’s pressed to the side of the dumpster, and my father cages her in, his hand raised as if to strike.
“Get the fuck away from my wife!” I snarl as I storm toward them, grabbing my father by the collar of his shirt to shove him away.
He stumbles, but I don’t give him a chance to escape. I follow, my fingers curling into my palm, ready to throw.
“Roman.” Niamh calls, her voice cutting through the roaring in my ears, halting my forward motion. “Don’t.”
It’s a long enough break that Jenson gets away, running toward the street and disappearing around the corner.
“Let him go.” She leans back on the dumpster and hangs her head, a heavy breath leaving her.
“Where are you hurt?” I go to her, gently cupping her chin to lift her face toward the little light out here.
“I’m alright,” She assures me. “I got him.”
“What?”
“We got him, cowboy.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask as I inspect the red mark on her jaw, the middle of the area turning darker, bruising. There’s some blood at the corner of her mouth, and it’s taking everything I have not to chase him down and destroy him.
Her blue eyes flick to the door. “Did I ever thank you for having the security installed?”
My head snaps toward the camera on top of the door.
“He admitted it.” She laughs, “Out loud.”
My eyes widen. “No.”
“Yes, Roman. He did. To allof it.”
I think the world shifts; the earth moving beneath my feet as the words register.
“There’s audio.” She continues, “We have him.”
“How did you…?”
“Just said the right things,” She shrugs. “You can end this, Roman.”
“He hurt you,” I eye the growing bruise on her jaw.
“I’m okay,” She assures me. “We need to download the footage. He knows he was caught; I don’t want him to steal it back before we have a chance to hand it in.”
“I want to kill him,” I admit.
Her hands cup my face, thumbs circling over my cheeks. “I know.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
“Hey,” She soothes, “No.”
“No?”
