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‘You’re not the little girl that didn’t have any options anymore, Libby. You made it through when you didn’t have a choice, but you’re a grown woman now and have full control over what happens in your life. You have all the power, nobody else.’
Closing my eyes, I steady myself. In for four–
Pain radiates through my head and I can’t breathe. My ears are roaring, but I can still hear Jett’s voice. The words aren’t registering, yet the tone is crystal clear. I’ve been here before. He could sense that I was going to dismiss him again, which pisses him off more than anything. Whereas I crave control for self preservation, Jett demands it for dominance. He doesn’t know how to not have things go his way.
It’s why I just went along with whatever it was he wanted. Smile, nod, don’t make a fuss. When I make a fuss, this is where I find myself. The panic is filling up inside me. It strangles the air from me, drowning me like never before. But just before I go under, I realize it's not the panic this time. This time, it's Jett's hands around my throat.
20
Sitting in my truck with my windows down, I tap my fingers on the steering wheel. There’s no way I’m going to leave Libby here with that monster. I respected her wishes and left them in the breezeway outside the apartment, but that doesn’t mean I have to abandon her. I’ll give her the space she wants, the time she needs, to deal with him however she sees fit, but I need to know that he eventually leaves. I won’t be able to think straight until I know she’s safe.
It’s then that I hear the yelling. My fingers are still as I listen. The voice is getting louder, and it sure as hell isn’t Libby’s. Fuck this.
I make a mad dash out of my truck and take the stairs three at a time. The scene in front of me when I get to her has me losing all sense of my moral compass. The bastard has her pinned against the door, hands around her neck, spewing words I don’t even hear because my only focus is on her.
Libby’s eyes are shut, her face void of all emotion, and she isn’t trying to fight back. So this is what happens to her? She never confirmed he was the one who left the bruise on her face, though I assumed. But I also thought it was a onetime fucking thing. This is what I opened her up to by leaving them alone? It's more than just arguments and hateful words. This is torture, abuse, and she’s just taking it.
All of my control goes out the window. I reach out and grab both of his arms, holding them behind his back as I pull him away from Libby and slam his face against the wall. He thrashes around, so I tighten my grip, leaning down next to his face and make my voice clear.
“You ever touch her again and I will fucking end you. Do you understand?” He doesn’t say anything, which pisses me off, so I slam him into the wall again, causing him to let out a grunt. “I need to hear you say it,” I demand.
“Fuck you.” He spits out the blood pooling in his mouth.
“Wrong fucking answer,” is all I say before I spin him around, cock my elbow back, and smash my knuckles into his face. He howls at the contact. Clenching the front of his shirt into my fists, I bring him closer to me and he flinches like the coward he is.
“Look at me,” I roar. He reluctantly does, but keeps his eyes squinted. He’s on edge, which is exactly where he belongs. “I asked you a question and you will answer me. You don’t call her, text her, talk to her, or even look at her.” I tighten my grip on him. “Do. You. Understand.”
He nods quickly. Unacceptable. “Say it!” I bark.
“I understand,” he croaks.
I let go of his shirt and push him toward the stairs before I do anything else I'll have to pay for. “Get the fuck out of here.”
Once he is out of sight, I turn my focus towards Libby. I take inventory of her. Her body is rigid but not shaking like she normally does with a panic attack. Her breaths are shallow and narrowing in on her neck, I see her pulse slow and thumping hard. And her beautiful eyes are wide open, but there’s no panic.
“Elizabeth,” I ease. “I’m so sorry.” I take a step back so she doesn’t feel threatened. She still doesn’t say anything, and I don’t know if I should say more or give her space. I can’t see anything beyond the terror. “Tell me what you need, Libs,” I plea.
“I need you to take me inside.”
I search her face, not understanding. She needs to go inside, away from the shit that just happened out here, but I’m what happened out here, and she wants me to be in there with her? Maybe it’s the shock talking. She can’t be thinking straight.
“Libby, I–”
“Colt.” Her eyes zero in on mine. “Take me inside.”
21
Colt gradually reaches to open the door, keeping his distance and stepping to the side, letting me walk past him. I head straight into the living room, moving with a purpose as I get my thoughts and feelings straight. What I just saw, what just happened, was a lot to take in. I can’t believe Jett tried to hurt me again. The night at the salon he was wasted, not thinking clearly. But today? He was as sober as the sun is bright.
I can’t believe Colt came back, or that he laid into Jett the way he did. I was expecting the sight to terrify me. To make me retreat and lock myself away. But Colt never scared me. I’ve never had anyone stand up for me before. Blake has made snide remarks towards Jett and has always been there for me, but nobody has ever stepped in the middle and said it was unacceptable. Most because nobody was ever around when it happened, other than my mom, but she was never mother of the year.
I can see the anger radiating through his body, but the anger he has towards Jett is there because of the passion he holds for me. The realization has my stomach swirling, making me want to explore every bit of it. Turning on my heels, I come to a halt, my breaths heavy as my intent builds. Colt is standing close to the door, looking unsure for the first time since I’ve known him. Has he been cautious? Absolutely, but never unsure.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” I need to know where his head is at.
His jaw clenches before answering. “I don’t know why you’re allowing me in here with you.” My eyebrows shoot up. Did I miss something here?. “I’m waiting for you to come to your senses and throw me out,” he clarifies.
My heart aches. That's the last thing I want. “Why would I throw you out?”
