She nodded. “I-I’m fine. A little shaky.”
“The adrenaline rush is fading. Your right hook is pretty impressive. And we might need to register your foot as a lethal weapon. Alan’s gonna have some pretty sore junk for the next while.”
She laughed, the sound slightly frantic, and I decided I needed to get her home. Now.
Back in the car, I held her hand.
“Do you want to tell me what prompted that?”
She leaned her head back with a sigh. “I came out of the ladies’ room and you weren’t there, so I thought you’d headed to the car to put the things in the trunk. I thought I’d save you a trip back in.”
“The line was a little longer than I expected.”
“I figured that, but before I could come back, Alan suddenly appeared.”
“What happened?”
“He was his usual caustic self. Called me a few names, informed me hanging with rich people didn’t make me any better than him. He let me know that once you were tired of me, I’d be cast to the side. That I would never really fit in.”
I tightened my hands on the wheel but remained silent.
“I told him that, even without you, I was better than him since I was a decent person.” She swallowed and looked out the window. “I tried to walk away, but he grabbed me. I think he’d been drinking, which Alan never used to do since it meant he might lose control. I smelled alcohol on his breath, though, and his eyes were unfocused.” She paused. “I told him to let go, but he refused. His grip was really tight, and he tore one of the sleeves of your mom’s dress. That really pissed me off.”
“My mom can fix the dress,” I assured her.
“He acted as if he had the right to touch me. To push me around and say anything he wanted because I was beneath him. I always had been in his eyes—or at least, to the man he became after we were married. That made me angrier, and then…”
“Then what?”
“He called Lucy ‘that thing with the grotesque deformity.’ He assured me you would walk away soon enough, once you got tired of slumming and feeling pity for us.” She sucked in a deep breath. “I couldn’t stand hearing him call my daughter names. Disparaging you.” Her voice rose. “She isn’t grotesque! She’s-she’s—” Her sob cut off her voice.
I squeezed her hand. “She’s perfect just the way she is, Paige.”
“Yes. And you are so wonderful. I’ve never felt so much rage. I was livid. Suddenly I remembered everything from a self-defense course I took years ago. The maneuvers Ava showed me. I moved without thinking, and suddenly, he was on the ground and you were there.” Another sob escaped her throat. “I lied when I said I didn’t hate him. I loathe that man.” She lowered her head as the tears came, sobbing into her hands.
I pulled into the compound and headed to the house. I flung open my door and went to hers, lifting her out of the car and heading inside. I sat her on the bathroom counter and wrapped her in my arms, letting her get the emotion out. “My fierce little warrior,” I crooned. “Defending the people you love. Lucy and I are lucky to have you in our corners.”
“I’ve never hit anyone before.”
“You did well, baby. You knocked him for a loop. His nose is never gonna look the same.” I chuckled. “Never mind his balls.”
She half giggled, half sobbed, and I lifted her head, cradling her face. “No more tears. He isn’t worth it, and he deserved it.”
“What-what if he presses charges or something?”
I fingered the torn sleeve of the dress and focused on the bruises forming on the arm he’d gripped. “If he does, we’ll have this documented. It was self-defense. But I doubt he will—his overinflated ego won’t allow him to tell the world he got taken down by a little slip of a woman.”
I wrapped her in my arms again, letting her lean on me. When she was fully relaxed, I pressed a kiss to her head. “Tell me what you want. Bath and bed? Ice cream and a movie?”
“I thought we were having pizza?”
“I wasn’t sure you were up to more of my family.”
“No, I want to. I don’t want Alan to ruin any more of tonight than he has.”
“Okay. Let’s change and head over. I want my dad to look at your hand.”
She sniffled, wiping her cheeks. “Okay.”
Chapter Fourteen
Paige
Aiden checked my hand, moving the fingers carefully.
“Nothing broken,” he assured me, wrapping a fresh bag of ice around it. “One hell of a punch, though, slugger. I’m proud of you.”
“For hitting a human being?” I asked.
He leaned on the chair, meeting my eyes. His mismatched gaze was serious. As serious as I had ever seen Aiden be. “No,” he said. “For slaying your Goliath. He deserved that punch and kick to his balls. You said your piece. Now you can move on. Chapter closed.”
“I hope he doesn’t make trouble for you or Liam.”
He scoffed and straightened up, tugging me out of the chair. “His nose will heal fine, and eventually, his balls will crawl out of his stomach. But he won’t forget your strength. That will leave a lasting impression. And I agree with Liam—he will never admit a little slip of a girl did this. He’ll say he was mugged or some other nonsense.” He hugged me close. “Don’t give it a second thought.”
I sat down beside Cami. She patted my hand. “Don’t worry about the dress. I can fix it easily, and you can wear it again.”
“I thought it was a loan.”
She smiled. “No, I fitted it for you. It’s yours.”
“Thank you.”
She leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Aiden is right. Shake tonight off. Don’t let Alan interfere with the new life you have found with Liam. Think of it as a cleansing. You finally got to use your voice and let him know he failed. You’re stronger, better, and more resilient than he believed. He thought he’d broken you, and now he knows he was wrong. That alone will drive him crazy.” She winked. “If you want to make sure of it, marry Liam, give me more Lucys. Be so happy, you forget everything but now.”
“Um, we haven’t talked marriage.”
She laughed. “You will. I know my son.”
Liam walked over, carrying a slice of pizza. “What are you two whispering about?”
Cami smiled. “We’re talking about you, dear. That’s all you need to know.”
He grinned. “Well, I am spectacular.”
Cami snorted. “In your own mind, yes. Now bring your mother a slice of pizza. The chicken was extra rubbery this evening. Even your father had trouble choking it down.”
“I noticed he only ate two helpings,” Liam said dryly.
“I had to keep up my strength,” Aiden insisted, joining in. “Your mother wanted to dance.”
I met Liam’s eyes, both of us trying not to laugh. It wasn’t Cami who wanted to dance. Aiden loved to “cut a rug,” as he called it, and dragged her to the dance floor every chance he got. She simply held on for dear life. Luckily, Liam and her other children inherited her grace and not Aiden’s.