“Truly. It gave me the push to call Irsia and Rohan and confess that I wanted out. I told them everything on the way back to Namik’s house and, as soon as I got there, I started to pack my bags. He came home from work earlier than expected and was confused by my anger. Until I confronted him about the STI. He was shockingly calm when he admitted he cheated.”
I scoff, recalling the patronizing tone in which he apologized. As if that’d be enough to settle things.
“I didn’t want an explanation. Nothing he said would’ve made a difference anyway. When he realized I wasn’t changing my mind about leaving, he became angry. He never did like it when I made decisions without asking him, and this one was big. I don’t even know why he wanted me to stay. He didn’t love or respect me. I suspect it was the appearance of being a divorcé he didn’t like. He grabbed me, threatening me like I was some foolish child who needed to be taught to obey him.”
My laugh is bitter, filled with self-loathing and a sense of shame I can only hope will sting less with time. “It’d been so long since I stood up to him about anything, I guess it was a surprise when I didn’t give in. He started to get physically aggressive with me. Shoved me against the wall. That’s when Rohan walked in, and he—” I cut myself off, the memory too gory. “Maybe that’s why Namik still likes to harass me. For revenge. Or maybe because the divorce wasn’t his choice and he’s trying to exert control over me again. Either way, I’m done with him.”
“What exactly did Moore do?” Cal asks, watching me expectantly.
My skin chills when I remember that day. The tears, the screams, the fear that my cousin would get hurt. “Rohan beat Namik unconscious. It took Uncle Ian, Irsia, and me to stop him.”
The memory of Namik’s bloodied face, eyes swollen shut and lips split in multiple places, brings me no satisfaction.
“Was that. . . shit. This happened last season?” Cal questions, brows drawn low in concentration. “Is that why Moore had a three-game suspension?”
I nod, anxiety twisting in my gut despite knowing that his punishment was reduced to sitting out a few games and being fined, instead of being dropped from the team. I don’t know exactly what the Ironhearts PR team did to suppress news of the assault or how his coach convinced the GM to give Rohan another chance.
My willingness to reveal Namik’s cheating ways was why he didn’t press charges. He was on track to becoming a partner at the financial firm he worked at and his soon-to-be ex-wife showing up with hospital reports of an STI wouldn’t help his blemish-free image. So, Rohan escaped without major repercussions, and I gained my freedom from a man who’d chained me for too long.
“You need to involve the authorities, Alia. You had us this time, but I hate to think of him cornering you when you’re alone.”
“I will,” I promise. This was the last straw. I’m done letting Namik get away with creating unrest in my life.
“Gotta say,” Cal murmurs after a long pause. “My respect for Moore just shot up several notches.”
“Because he beat up a man until he was bleeding from the gums?” I ask incredulously.
“He beat up a dickwad who emotionally manipulated you, coerced you into a physical relationship, and then dared to put his filthy hands on you. An unsure yes isstilla no.”
My pulse thunders in my ears hearing Cal state it so bluntly, validating every thought I’ve had that Namik abused me. I would’ve become a statistic for domestic violence had I not left.
“But that’s not why,” he adds.
“Why else?”
Cal pins me with a look I can’t quite decipher.
“Moore had enough self-control to only knock him unconscious. I’d have put him in the hospital with a lifelong limp and a missing appendage.”
36
ALIA
Cal’s promise slithers down my spine and swirls in a pool of heat at the base of my belly. Gore and violence have never turned me on, but his calm, assured declaration enthralls me.
I don’t know if I’m embarrassed for being aroused by such neanderthal claims or confused. It’s never been like this with anyone. I’ve never wanted a knight in shining armor, never relished someone being protective of me.
With every interaction, it’s becoming clear what IthinkI want and what Iactuallywant are diametrically different when it comes to Callum Finnigan.
“Why have you been ignoring me?” I ask, my voice choked. He can’t say stuff like this after going cold.
“I wasn’t ignoring you.”
“You’ve been weird all week. I don’t expect you to call me, but even your texts. . .”
Cal looks pained, a little tired even.
“Stupid Novak and his fucking advice. All those Elmo gifs are dumb.”