“I told you Richard, it isn’t about money. I live in a small apartment, on a limited income, and I’m very happy about that.” She kept her voice soft to try and calm him down, but it didn’t seem to be working. He was escalating. A tingle of fear went through her. She’d seen this before with patients and addictions.
“It’s always about this.” He splayed his hands out again indicating to the rich furnishings of the great room.
“It’s not—”
She didn’t expect to get struck. Not from Richard. He’d held her down bruising her when she was a teenager, but did not strike her. It came out of nowhere, and was completely unexpected. He’d hit her hard enough that she lost her balance. She fell backwards and landed on the sofa. One of her arms knocked the lamp off the side table and it shattered on the floor. Before she could move, still reeling from the shock and the impact, he was on top of her, his hand on her throat pinning her to the cushion. She gasped, her eyes wide with fear.
He leaned down so his face was inches from hers. “You are mine Tamara. You always were. No one walks away from me!”
Tammy had worked with all kinds of people, even people who were committed from time to time for aggressive behavior, so she could actually see them coming, but for some reason she missed this.
“Stop,” she gasped as she reached up and pushed at his face.
He tightened his hold on her neck. “You are going to break up with Mr. Millionaire and come back to me. Do you hear me?”
For some reason the fact that he was demanding she listen to him, made her get angry. She should be afraid, but his threats brought back a world of angst and rage. There was a reason she enrolled in self-defense classes in her late teens after his first attack. No one would do that to her again. She grit her teeth fighting against the squeezing grip on her neck. Her instructors always told her not to try and pry hands off because it never worked, but instead go for something more sensitive. “No!” She brought her knee up and hit him hard in the groin. He shouted in pain, and instantly rolled off her onto the floor groaning while cupping his groin and curled in a fetal position.
She scooted up the couch holding her throat and gasping more in fear then pain. Her adrenaline was pumping so that hadn’t set in yet. Then she scrambled over the end of the sofa and stood up. She was angry, hurt and in shock. “No one touches me Richard!” She yelled at him. In that instant Lance burst in the room, then paused taking in the scene.
Mavis came in behind him wringing her hands in worry. “Oh dear!”
“What the fuck? Tam?”
She quickly stepped around the couch and the broken shards from the lamp and ran to him. He gathered her in his arms.
“Jesus. Mavis called me in a panic. Are you okay?” He tilted her face up and saw the beginnings of a bruise on her cheek. His legendary reserved expression dissolved into fury. “That son of a bitch!”
“I’m okay.”
He went to walk past her and she grabbed his jacket to stop him. He turned and looked at her.
“I am fine, please don’t hurt him.” She had never seen him this angry, or angry at all. Despite his visible rage his voice was calm when he spoke next.
“Mavis, call the police,” he said with his eyes on Tammy.
“Yes Mr. Hartley.” She turned to go until Tammy’s voice stopped her.
“No, please don’t.” Mavis paused looking back and forth at the two of them.
“Tammy, the prick struck you!” There was some leakage of fury with that accusation.
She had to hand it to him. His self-control was impeccable. If it was Colton there would be nothing left of Richard by now.
“No—I mean yes, but there’s something wrong with him.” She pointed at Richard who was still on the floor writhing and moaning. “He doesn’t look right—or acting right.”
“Yes, because he’s a bloody sadist and a misogynist!” He shot a warning look in the man’s direction.
“No, I mean yes, but I think he’s on something. I’ve seen patients like this before. Addicts.”
He looked over her head at the man on the floor again and narrowed his eyes as if studying him for a moment. Then he returned his attention to her, cupped her head and tilted it up to study the bruise forming. It was as if he was contemplating his actions by the damage done to her. “I’m okay Lance.”
He sighed not believing her. “Stay here.” Lance finally released her and went up to Richard, bent down, and gripped his arm. “Get up, you sack of shit.” He helped him stand and thrust him in a chair with enough force to make the chair nearly flip over backwards. He cried out again. “If you move, I’ll fucking kill you. Do you understand?” Richard managed to sit straight after a moment and nodded still breathing heavy from the pain in his groin. Lance leaned over and looked at his eyes. “Dilated as hell. What did you take?”
He shook his head and his eyes went to Tammy.
“Tammy will be the last one you can look to for help now. This is my house. You have two options here Cavanaugh. I send you to jail for assault, or you fess up and I get you help.”
He nodded and bowed his head. “I—I don’t know what I took. I got something from a friend. Some pills. I drank a little. I was upset. I don’t feel so great now.”
