Page 75 of Mended Fences

Seven hundred fifty-eight. Seven hundred fifty-one.

Time fractured. I measured it in heartbeats instead of seconds. In the steady blink of the camera’s red eye. In the distance between who I used to be and who I’d become.

When it was over, Peter straightened his tie with practiced efficiency. The controlled businessman once again. “Three days, Elena. Get your ass back home where you belong, or next time...” His smile was razor-sharp. “Next time I won’t be so gentle.”

The door clicked shut behind him with terrible finality.

One hundred forty-four.

I waited until his car engine faded before I moved. Called the police with hands that didn’t shake. Recited my statement in clear, medical terminology. And only then, when everything was documented and verified, did I allow myself to break.

Chapter Twenty-Four

CHASE

Then, July 2024

I was already annoyedabout working late when I turned onto Elena’s street. The resort maintenance gig in the summers wasn’t exactly thrilling, but at least it kept me busy. And employed. I’d texted Elena I’d be late for pizza night, but she hadn’t responded. Something was wrong. Elena always texted back. Always. Even when she’d still been living under her bastard soon-to-be-ex-husband’s roof.

Then the sight of Andy’s cruiser in her driveway turned my annoyance to dread.

I killed the engine, eyes locked on her front door standing slightly ajar. I climbed out and slammed the door, boots slapping the driveway cement as I beelined to the porch. Through the window, I could see the pizza box on her coffee table, untouched.

“Elena?” The word came out rough as I stepped inside.

Andy emerged from the kitchen, face set in hard lines. “Chase?—”

But I’d already seen her. Elena sat statue-still on her couch, hands folded in her lap like she was at some fancy Detroit hospital board meeting. Everything about her screamed control, except for the split lip. The darkening bruise on her cheekbone. The careful way she held herself, like moving too quickly might shatter something.

The need for a drink hit hard and fast. It would be so easy to numb this. To let the rage take over like it always did when things got too real.

But Elena needed me.

The real me, not the wasted me.

“He was here.” Not a question. I knew exactly who had done this.

Elena’s eyes finally met mine. “I have it on camera.”

My feet wouldn’t move. Couldn’t. Because if I got any closer to her right now, saw those bruises up close, I’d lose what little control I had. And Elena didn’t need that. She needed... Fuck, I didn’t know what she needed. I just knew I couldn’t be another man who lost his shit around her.

“What do you need?” My voice didn’t sound like mine.

“I’m almost done giving my statement.” Still using that careful tone. Like I was some wild animal she had to keep calm. Maybe I was. “Can you... can you just sit with me?”

I made myself walk slowly to the armchair across from her. Not the couch. Not close enough to touch her. My hands were shaking, but I shoved them in my pockets where she couldn’t see.

Andy cleared his throat. “Elena, you want to continue?”

She nodded, spine straight as a rod. “As I was saying, after the assault, he informed me I had three days to return to Detroit. He said...” She paused, swallowed. “He said next time he wouldn’t be so gentle.”

The arm of the chair creaked under my grip.

Elena’s eyes flicked to mine. “Chase.”

“I’m good.” I wasn’t. But I’d fucking die trying to be. “Keep going.”

“The camera captured everything.” Her doctor voice was back. Clinical. Detached. “Time-stamped footage of the assault, the threats. I can provide medical documentation of all injuries sustained.”