Breaking Through

Chapter 18

18

Hilary

Because of having to design a bride’s dress, a maid of honor’s dress, three bridesmaids’ dresses, and a mother of the bride’s dress to be ready in a little over two months, I ended up working late on Thursday.

It was almost six in the evening when I left Fallon’s studio. Of course, she was still there, laboring away.

My car was parked on the thin strip of concrete Fallon called a parking lot. At least it fit our cars, parked tightly at the back of the lot, and about four or five other compact cars. Maneuvering in or out wasn’t always easy, but today, there was only Fallon’s and my car there.

As I turned the corner from the sidewalk into the parking lot, something charged me and rammed my body into the building’s wall. My back hit the concrete wall with a loud thud, and the pain radiated through my body. My lungs compressed and I gasped for air, which didn’t come, as a clammy, strong hand closed around my throat.

I scrambled to focus, to regain composure, to understand what was happening. A face appeared before my eyes, only a couple of inches from mine. A man’s face. A man’s face I had seen only once before.

Mike, Evie’s abusive husband.

Panic rose from deep inside my chest.

“What do you think you’re doing, b***h?” he asked, his voice rough. His breath reeked of alcohol.

I gasped. Even if I knew what to say to him, I couldn’t. Fear paralyzed me, and his hand on my throat was tight enough to make speech difficult.

“Mike,” I tried, but it came out as a croak. “Let … let me go.” I pushed on his shoulders, but the man didn’t budge. “Please.”

He punched the wall, half an inch from my face. Desperate tears filled my eyes, making my already blurred sight worse. “It doesn’t matter what kind of ideas you put in Evie’s head, she’ll always come back to me. Always.” He jerked me off the wall, only to push me back hard into it. My head slammed against the facade, and my vision went dark. “You’ll regret it, bitch.”

His hand tightened around my throat. I was swimming in a dark sea made of oil. Even though I moved my arms and legs, fighting with each stroke, the oil carried me further and further from the shore, until it swallowed me, and I couldn’t do anything other than let it take me.

A gush of air rushed down my throat, burning its way to my lungs as I slid down the wall and fell on the concrete ground in a numb heap. Through the pain and burning, I gasped, willing my lungs to work. Slowly, my hearing focused and my vision cleared.

With a bloody nose, Mike spat at my feet, then turned and ran.

Gui knelt in front of me.

I stared, in shock. He had a cut on his lower lip and a red bruise on his left temple. His eyes, though, his eyes looked at me with pure concern and fear.

“Are you hurt?” he asked. I still stared, not sure what had happened. “Hil, answer me, please. Are you hurt?”

I started shaking my head, but pain radiated through my skull. “Ow,” I muttered, closing my eyes and pressing my hands on the top of my head.

Gui cursed under his breath. “All right, let’s go.” He took my hands in his and pulled me up. Still shaking, I could barely stand. A wave of dizziness overcame me and I leaned against the wall for support.

“Just … give me a moment,” I rasped, my throat still burning.

“Where are your car keys?”

“Purse. Outside pocket.”

He glanced around and found my purse on the ground, my portfolio case next to it. He picked up my things, grabbed the car keys, clicked the button to open the car, slid the strap of my purse up his arm, put my portfolio case between his knees, then he slid one arm around my back and the other under my knees and lifted me as if I were a rag doll.

“What …?” I started protesting, but with the shaking and the dizziness, I could barely take two steps on my own.

Somehow, Gui picked up the portfolio case with one of his hands and carried me and all my stuff to my car. He stopped by the door, raised one knee, and rested my bottom against his leg, while he opened the door and threw my stuff in the backseat, and then he picked me up again and deposited me on the passenger seat. He ducked inside the car with me, and pulled the seat belt around me. I could feel his arms and hands touching me, and I knew that another time, another day, I would actually like this, but today I was too numb to think about him like that. One good thing I realized as he raced around the car and slipped into the driver’s seat was that, even though I had all the reasons to have a panic attack now, it didn’t come. And I should have been cowering from him too, and I wasn’t.

Gui started the car. “What’s the closest hospital?”

“W-what?”

“Hospital. You’re hurt and I’m taking you to the hospital.”

I pressed a hand where my head had hit the wall, then stared at it. It still hurt like crazy, and every time I moved my head too fast, the pain radiated everywhere, but there was no blood.

“I’m fine,” I said.

“No, no, you’re not. I’m taking you to the hospital. Tell me where the nearest one is before I search for one on my phone.”

Looking into his eyes, I laid my hand on his extended arm. “Gui, I’m fine now. Yes, it hurts, but I think I’ll only have a bump. Please, don’t take me to the hospital. I hate hospitals.” In my gaze, I tried to show him I was serious, I was honest.

I saw the battle in his eyes. His knuckles were white around the steering wheel and his jaw popped every few seconds. He wanted to argue, he wanted to disagree, but with an exasperated sigh, he nodded and backed out of the parking lot. I watched him as he turned the car toward our building, and for the first time, I noticed his clothes. He was wearing black sweatpants and a blue Montenegro T-shirt and sneakers. His hair was disheveled and his phone was strapped to his arm.

“You were out running,” I said.

“Yes. I change my course every few days, so I don’t get bored. I started running down this street three days ago. Graças a Deus.”

“Thank you.”

Eyes on the road, he shook his head. “You have nothing to thank me for. I just wish …” He pressed his lips tight.

“What?”

“I wish I had been able to knock the guy unconscious and call the cops. Or at least landed a few more punches on him before he got away.” He stole a quick glance at me. “Que merda! What happened? The guy was robbing you? Or …” He shut his mouth, probably too afraid to say the R word. I was too.

“Neither.” I looked down at my hands. They still shook. “His name is Mike. His wife, Evangeline, is one of the women at the women’s center I visit every couple of weeks. We became friends and she told me all about him.” A tear slid down my cheek and I wiped it away. I hadn’t even noticed I was about to cry. “He’s … There are no words to describe him. He’s the worst kind of man there is. But Evie is too afraid to confront him and leave him. So, every now and then, she goes back to him. Then she comes back to the women’s center. I’m trying to help her, to convince her to leave him for good.” I snorted. “Me and all the staff at the center. But, for some reason, she’s not strong enough. A few days ago, I visited her and we talked a long while about that. She said she would finally do it, and I believed her this time. I checked with her a few days ago, and she still hadn’t done it, but my guess is that she left, or tried to, otherwise …”

“He wouldn’t have come after you,” Gui finished for me.

“I never thought he would do something like that. I didn’t even know she had mentioned me to him, but apparently she told him enough.”

“He knows where you work.” Gui punched the wheel, startling me. “Sorry, sorry.”

I just nodded and focused on him. Because if I didn’t, if I let my mind wander, if I let myself think about what had happened, if I let my emotions creep into me, I would succumb to the worst panic attack I had since the night that started this mess.

Taking deep breaths, I ignored my hands shaking and watched Gui as he drove the few blocks to our apartments. His hands clenched and unclenched the wheel, his arms taut, the muscles flexing with each of his movements. The blue shirt had a big wet spot on his back and his chest. His shirt clung to his skin, revealing the strong muscles beneath. His face was serious, almost feral, his lips pressed together, his brows furrowed, his jaw hard. His damp, messy hair framed his beautiful face. I gulped down the realization that Gui was more than handsome. He was stunning. Like underwear-model s***h rock star s***h movie star stunning.

At a red light, Gui glanced at me.

“What?” he asked.

“Hm?”

“You’re staring at me.”

Warmth flooded my cheeks. “I’m trying not to think about what happened, and you’re the only thing to stare at here.”

One corner of his lips tugged up. “Are you trying to make me relax or something?”

The truth was, I was trying to make me relax. “Is it working?”

The frown between his brows deepened and his lips lost their almost smile. “I might be furious, and ready to throw a punch at someone, but I swear, I would never hurt you. You know that, right?”

A lot of men who had said that had lied. I also knew women felt incredibly safe with their boyfriends or husbands before they turned violent—or before they were raped. But for some reason, deep in my heart, I knew Gui was different and that he would never, ever hurt me. “I know.”

We remained silent the rest of the way, and I kept my mind busy, so as not to give in to the panic and fear.

Using the remote control, he drove past the gate and into the parking lot under the building. He parked my car in my reserved spot, killed the car’s engine, and turned to me.

“I still wish you would let me take you to the hospital. Or to your doctor. Or your therapist.”

I took in a deep breath and let it out, calming my nerves before I spoke. “Gui, something big just happened. I was assaulted by a known violent man.” Gui flinched as if I had hit him. Each word was paused as it hurt saying them out loud. “I have the right to slip into one of my panic attacks. I thought I would have slipped into one by now—probably the biggest one since that day—but for the first time in three years, I’m staying in control. For the first time, I can feel the panic coming, and I’m not surrendering to it. I’m pushing it back. I’m not sure why I’m able to do this now, or how, but I am.” That wasn’t entirely true. I kind of suspected my newfound strength had something to do with Gui’s presence, but I didn’t want to give much thought to it. Not yet. “Please, please, don’t spoil that by taking me to my doctor or my therapist. If you take me to them, I’ll break down, and I really, really don’t want to break down right now.” A stubborn tear escaped from my eye.

Gui reached over, cupped my face, and wiped my tear with his thumb. His hand lingered, the warmth of his skin seeping into mine. “You’re strong, Hilary. Stronger than you think, and I’m proud of you right now.”

“Thanks,” I said, offering him a tiny smile.

As I averted my eyes, Gui pulled his hand away and opened the car’s door. “All right. Let’s get you home, then.”