Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
My brain was firing on all cylinders, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. Trinity was in med school. She was going to be starting her internship soon at the hospital near her. What the fuck was going on that made her change her mind? Just two days ago, she’d been telling me how great everything was going.
Fuck, her boyfriend had even proposed over the fucking weekend, which hadn’t settled all that well with me considering I was jealous as fuck, but she’d been happy. And Wyatt loved the man to pieces. He was a decent guy, and he treated both her and Wyatt well. He was a doctor himself, so they’d both be set up for life with him.
“You know I’ll come,” I promised her, already making my way to the bathroom so I could take the fastest shower in history. “I need to shower, but while I’m showering, I need you to tell me what’s going on, Trinity.”
I set my phone on the side of the tub and stepped under the spray of water. “Zac… I don’t know what happened.” She hiccupped. “My mind is still reeling. But he—he tried to hit Wyatt over something as simple as Wyatt not wanting asparagus for dinner. He’s never eaten asparagus. I don’t know why he made it, but he just—he got so angry, Jimmie.”
I was going to fucking kill him for raising his hand to my son, but I didn’t say that to her. Instead, I kept my cool, focusing on washing my hair. “Keep going,” I gently urged.
“I got in the middle. Told Wyatt to go to his room and shut the door. And Zac just started yelling. He called me a whore for having a kid out of wedlock, told me the only reason I got the internship at the hospital was because he pulled strings, and when I told him I was packing a bag and spending the night with my sister, he—he—” She sobbed again. The sound tore at my already fragile composure.
“Baby,” I drew in a deep breath as I rinsed my hair, “keep it together for me. Okay? I need you to tell me what the fuck he did.”
“I’m… bleeding,” she croaked.
I lifted my head, blinking at the wall across from me. I’m bleeding.
I’m bleeding.
I’m bleeding.
“Did he fucking rape you, Trinity?” I growled, my fingers curling into a fist.
Her whimper was all the confirmation I needed. “Fuck!” I yelled, slamming my fists against the wall. My chest heaved, and my arms trembled with the restraint it took to not tear my entire fucking bathroom apart. Hanging my head between my shoulders, I forced myself to breathe slow and deep. In for five, out for seven. Over and over and fucking over again.
“Where is he now?” I asked her, thankful my voice was calm again.
“He went out,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’m at my sister’s. Her husband is here. But I can’t stay here, Jimmie.”
I slicked my long, dark hair back from my face and blew out a harsh breath. “I need you to go to the hospital, Trinity. One where he doesn’t have access as a doctor. And I need you to have a rape kit done, okay? He’s not getting away with this. Can you do that?”
“I can’t leave Wyatt,” she said, her voice cracking.
“Leave him with your sister, baby. He doesn’t need to know any of this, you hear me? He’s just a kid. Our trauma never touches him,” I reminded her. She sniffled. “Do you have a friend who can take you? You have to get to the hospital.”
“I can call Derek,” she said softly. “Zac has never liked him, so I think I’m safe with him.”
Derek, Derek, Derek. I wracked my brain, trying to remember who Derek was, but I was coming up blank. “Who’s Derek?”
“He was Wyatt’s daycare teacher,” she reminded me.
Oh. Him. He was a good guy. I’d only ever met him once, and that was when Trinity was buried under so much homework, she asked if I could pick Wyatt up from daycare and bring him to see her at the library before I brought him back here for my visitation time. Wyatt had been almost one at the time.
Derek was a muscular guy who hit the gym a lot, had a good sense of humor, and he hit on me the first time he met me.
“Get Derek to take you,” I told her. “As soon as I finish my shower, I’ll grab Dylan and Byron, and we’ll hit the road. You’re not leaving without your things.”
“Jimmie—” she whispered, her voice wobbling.
“No arguments, Trinity. You and Wyatt need your things. We’ll do things the legal way; I promise. I’ll get a police officer on the scene. Zac can’t touch you again, you hear me? Just do not go anywhere alone. Promise me.”