Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 136296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
The dynamics shifted slowly at first. It started with moving us away from my family and friends, so he was the sole source of support. Then he began belittling my job, telling me my PhD didn’t matter, that he would take care of me. Then the gaslighting. At one point, I’d felt like I was losing my mind.
“What does this look like moving forward?” Maverick asks.
“We can hold him for forty-eight hours, but after that, his bail is set at five hundred thousand.”
“Will he be able to come up with that kind of money?” Maverick asks.
“I don’t know. Maybe?” I feel like I’m being choked by fear. Not just for myself, but for Maverick and his family.
Maverick brushes tears away. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll keep you safe, sweetheart.”
The police assure us he’ll be monitored closely, and we’re given direct numbers so we can call with any other information. Then they escort us to the cabin so we can pick up the things I need.
I grab a few extra changes of clothes and my toiletries from the bathroom. I avoid looking at the kitchen area, not wanting to see the broken glass still on the floor or the blood that’s dried overnight. The mat at the entryway is black, so it hides what the pale tile can’t.
I hope this place hasn’t been ruined for me after this settles. I worry that the memories Maverick and I have created will be overshadowed, and this place I considered a haven will be tainted.
Once I have my things, the police follow us out and promise to keep us updated. I guess one of the great things about Maverick having a father who’s a hockey legend and genuinely nice guy is that people will bend over backwards to help him.
Maverick’s father has been more than accommodating. And I have to wonder if it’s mostly attributed to the fact that he’s seen this kind of trauma before.
“You sure you’re all right to drive, Mav? I can get one of your uncles to come back here with me and grab the truck.”
“Nah, I’m okay. Just . . .” He gives his head a shake. “Thinking about how differently yesterday could have gone. I’m real glad it didn’t.” Maverick wraps one arm around my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
I push up on my toes so I can press my lips to the edge of his jaw. “You taught me how to handle this kind of situation. Why don’t we go back to your parents’? You look like you could use a nap.”
“Let’s get back and get you settled in,” he agrees.
The morning has taken more out of me than I anticipated. Maverick and his dad offer to make us lunch when we get back to their house, but all I want to do is sleep. We head out to the pool house and climb into bed, Maverick wrapped protectively around me.
I wake up in the same position I fell asleep in, Maverick’s hand twitching against my side. He makes a plaintive sound. I lie there for a minute, listening to his uneven breathing, worried he’s caught in yet another bad dream. I shift so I can see his face. His brows are pulled together, and he makes another low, despondent sound.
I sit up, hoping he’s going to fall back into peaceful sleep. He’s been struggling for weeks now, and what happened last night isn’t going to make it any better. I’d hoped things would settle after contract talks, but I fear that won’t be the case. I know he’s been offered a spot at training camp now, but I don’t know what he’s thinking.
I consider that a moment. What will I do if he’s moving to Nashville? Can I stay in that cabin on my own? Do I want to? My brain automatically rejects the possibility. Would following him mean potentially falling into the same pattern I had with Gabriel—leaving my support system behind and relying on only him? Would it be fair to either of us?
Everything feels too fresh for me to be able to think this through rationally. I don’t even know if he plans to accept it. Anyway, this situation with Gabriel needs resolution before I can start planning my future.
Maverick’s lip twitches, along with his fingers. I put my hand on his cheek. “Shh, you’re okay.”
He sucks in a ragged breath, and his eyes flip open. They zing around the room, frantic and unnerved.
I drop my hand, and he catches it in his. “Shit. I fell asleep. How long have I been out?”
“I’m not sure. Were you dreaming?” I ask.
“Yeah.” He blows out a breath. “How long have you been awake?”
“Just a couple minutes.”
“Did I wake you? Are you feeling okay?”
“Just stiff and sore, which is to be expected. How are you?” I shift and tuck my legs under me, leaning into his side.