The Man I Need Read online

  “You’re going to leave me.” It’s a statement, one filled with fury.

  In an instant, his hand shoots up to my throat, and I gasp as he grips it tight. He turns me around with his grip still tight around my throat and shoves my back against the front door.

  “You’re going to leave me! Is that it?” His voice booms, and I scratch at his hand, needing oxygen. “You are so fucking pathetic, Gabby! I swear you are! I do so much for you—marry you—and you want to leave because I want one little thing?”

  “Kyle—please!” I choke out, blinded by tears.

  “What part of you belong to me did you not understand? You are my wife, therefore you are mine! If you ever try to leave me or betray me, I will make sure you pay for it, so that you will know better than to ever try it again! Betray me, and I will fucking kill you, Gabby. I mean it!”

  I can’t breathe at all.

  Can’t see behind the thick layer of tears.

  I need air.

  Before, I never wanted to hurt him. I loved him so much that I never thought I could, but this night changes everything. I almost start to wonder if I’m having a nightmare, but this pain is real. Everything I feel is real.

  I thought surely Kyle was a good, loving man. He’s not the kind of man who would hurt anyone. That’s what I thought. Now I know he’s anything but. This monster in front of me is an entirely different beast. He isn’t the man I married.

  Did he wait until our status was solidified, just to reveal this side of himself? I think about all the times he was drunk before. If he got drunk, he fell asleep shortly after or left the room altogether. When we were on our honeymoon and he’d drank a little too much, he simply passed out. I assumed it was because he was tired.

  Anger spikes my bloodstream, and I lift one of my legs, kneeing him right in the balls with all the strength I possess.

  With a loud grunt, Kyle pulls away and collapses, landing on his back. I grab my keys off the hook by the door and rush out, all while sucking in a breath.

  I run down the hallway and don’t bother taking the elevator. Shoving the door open for the stairs, I go down all four flights, dashing through the parking deck for my car as I tug the handle of my bag over my shoulder.

  When I’m inside Lady Monster, I waste no time bringing the engine to life and driving away. My eyes are thick with hot tears, but I don’t stop. I have this fear that he’ll be in his car and chasing right after me, so I keep going, checking my rearview mirror. No one is following me. He’s not following me.

  For a while, it’s hard to drive, because the tears are so thick and blinding, so I pull over on the side of the road when I feel like I’ve gotten far enough away, and then rest my forehead on the steering wheel, letting it all out.

  I’m not even sure how long I cry.

  I don’t know what just happened or why. Why would he do that to me? Why would he hurt me that way? He practically raped me on that bed!

  The Kyle I love would have never done this…but maybe that Kyle never existed. Maybe he was just putting on a show up until this point.

  I finally pull my shit together, wipe my face, and drive four and a half hours straight to get to Virginia.

  I find the familiar, colorful apartments and pull up to building 2002. Grabbing my bag, I rush up the steps, knocking hard on door 6A.

  It swings open after my third knock, and my best friend stands on the other side of it with a deep scowl before she realizes that it’s me.

  Teagan is in pajamas, and her eyes are really squinty, like she’s just woken up.

  “Gabby? What the hell?” she croaks.

  “I’m sorry to wake you, T. C-can I come in, please?”

  Her eyes widen then, most likely sensing the panic in my voice. With a concerned frown she steps forward and grabs my hand, towing me inside.

  “What the hell is going on? What happened to you?” she asks, looking me all over. I drop my bag by the door and walk to the couch.

  As soon as I sit, I drop my face into my palms and cry. I cry harder than I did in the car. Sob after sob wracks through my body, and it doesn’t take long for a hand to start rubbing my back.

  “Gabby? What in the hell happened?” Teagan demands.

  “I—I don’t know!” I cry.

  “What do you mean you don’t know? Tell me why you’re crying!”

  I can’t even do it. I hate having to put Kyle in a bad light, but he did this. He’s the reason I’m here at four in the morning, interrupting her night.

  “What happened to your neck?” she asks, running a hand over the side of it. When she does, I can still feel the prints of his fingers there, like he’s still holding me. “And your wrist—Gabby! What is going on!”

  “Kyle,” I sob, and I can’t even look at her, so I keep my face buried in my hands.

  “Kyle what?” Her voice is clipped.

  “We got into an argument about having kids and he—he came onto me a little too roughly. Grabbed me too hard. When I tried to go, he choked me.”

  “Choked you? Oh my God.” Teagan sounds worried too, and I’m so glad she believes me because to anyone else, this would sound completely made up.

  Kyle is the one who’s known not to get a temper. He’s the guy who is sweet and kind and charming and would never hurt a fly. How can he be so different now? How didn’t I see this coming?

  “I knew that fucker was putting on a show! I knew it! I told you there was something about him I didn’t trust but this solidifies it!”

  I peer up at her, and she’s just a blob behind my tears. “I know, but I didn’t see this coming! He has never put his hands on me before!”

  “Are you sure he never has?”

  “I’m positive, T. I would remember. He has never hurt me. He was drinking a lot tonight and—”

  “Nuh-uh! Fuck that! There is no excuse for what he did, so don’t try and make one up for him!”

  I clamp my mouth shut, swiping my tears away. “Do you think I can stay here for a few days? Until I figure out what to do?”

  “Yes. Of course, stay here for as long as you want, Gabby. That’s what I’m here for.”

  “Thank you.”

  I can feel her staring at me. I’m so embarrassed right now, but I know she would never tell a soul or judge me for it. Not only that, but she’s all I really have at the moment. I can’t tell my parents. They’d go overboard and blow things way out of proportion.

  “Let me get you some blankets and a pillow.” Teagan walks off, and I drop my head again, staring down at the floor.

  She returns a moment later with thick blankets and a pillow. I stand so she can pull out the sofa bed and spread the blankets.

  When she’s done, she walks to the kitchen, pulling down two white mugs and grabbing her kettle. “I’ll make you some tea.”

  “Sure. Thanks.” I sit at the four-top dining table.

  When she’s done with the tea, she brings it to me and I thank her, blowing it before sipping carefully.

  “How did you get away?” she asks, holding the mug in both hands.

  “Kneed him in the balls.”

  She smirks. “That’s my girl.”

  I focus on the gold liquid in my cup.

  “You know you can’t go back to him, right?”

  My eyes slide up to hers. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean he hit you, Gabby. A man is never supposed to hit a woman!”

  “I get that, Teagan, but he is my husband. The paperwork has been finalized. I can’t just leave for good over this one thing.”

  “He’ll do it again, and you know it.”

  I shake my head, looking away. “He won’t—he can’t. What he did was unlike him.”

  “In my book, that’s unforgivable. You can’t trust that he won’t do it again, even if he promises that he won’t.”

  “He was drunk, T. He wasn’t thinking straight, and we were already upset with each other—”

  “So that’s what you’re going to do? Make excuses fo
r that piece of shit? Your case is that he was drunk and just being a man, even though he tore you down in the process? Gabby—I mean, look at you! I saw your eyes and heard the way you spoke when you got here! You were terrified! Why stay with this guy when he made you feel that way? Something tells me he’s always been this way. He was a spoiled, rich kid who grew up to be a spoiled, rich man. He’s entitled and thinks he owns whatever he touches, including you.” She pushes from the table, leaving her mug there. “I’m not trying to make you feel like shit but just…think about what you’re doing. I have to work in a few hours, so I’m going to try and get some rest. You should try and do the same.”

  Teagan walks off, clearly disappointed. When her bedroom door shuts behind her, I sigh, and leave my tea on the table too. I curl up on the couch, and my phone rings in my pocket several seconds later.

  Kyle is calling.

  I ignore it.

  I spend four days on Teagan’s couch, wallowing in my own sadness. She doesn’t say much to me—really, what can she say? She does give me food and makes me feel comfortable, for which I’m eternally grateful.

  Kyle calls repeatedly on every single one of those days, but I don’t answer. On the fifth day, there are no calls from my husband, but there is a knock on the door that evening.

  Teagan looks at me warily before going to it. She swings it open and I sit up straight, my pulse thundering in my ears when I hear Kyle talking.

  For a moment, I think he’s going to push past her and snatch me up, just to tear me down again.

  “I know she’s here, Teagan. Please let me speak to her.” I’m surprised his voice is so calm.

  “Screw that. You put your hands on her. I refuse to let a woman beater into my apartment, now fuck off!”

  She slams the door in his face, and I stand from the sofa, twisting my fingers.

  Teagan looks me over, her eyes screaming are you serious? “Gabby, don’t go to him. He doesn’t deserve you.”

  “He’s my husband, Teagan. We’ll have to talk about this eventually.” I go to her, holding her shoulders. “And I can’t stay here with you forever. You know it.”

  She shakes her head and begins to protest, but clamps her mouth shut within a second. I can tell she’s thinking that I’m partially correct.

  What kind of marriage would this be if we don’t at least talk about what happened? Despite how low I feel, or how terrified I was, I need to know why he did it. I need to know if he will always be like this or if it was a one-time thing because he was drunk and angry.

  I walk to the door and pull it open. Kyle is still standing near it, like he was thinking of another way to get to me.

  “Gabs,” he breathes when he spots me, and his brown eyes light up, like he’s so glad to see me. He seems almost boyish, and for a split second, I regret being away from him and having him worry for so long, but then I remember his hand around my throat, the way he forced himself inside of me, and I drop that regret instantly, rubbing my neck at the reminder.

  I close the door behind me. “How did you know I was here?”

  “Your father called me and didn’t mention you were with him.” He looks at the hand I have on my neck, eyes full of guilt.

  I drop my hand then swallow hard, wrapping my thick cardigan sweater around me. “I’m not coming home.”

  “I get that. I don’t expect you to, so just listen for a second.” He squeezes his eyes shut, holding up a hand. “Gabby, I am so, so sorry. What I did was wrong, and I understand your anger and your fear. I have a bad habit of drinking and getting out of control. It’s happened to me for years—to the point I’ve had to go to therapy for it.”

  I almost start to lower my guard. He never told me he went to therapy for anything.

  “I never should have put my hands on you that way, and I swear to you I will never, ever do it again,” Kyle murmurs.

  My throat feels dry. The wind bristles by, making my face feel colder. “I don’t know if I can trust that, Kyle. You hurt me that night. You choked me.”

  He winces, like he remembers well, and the thought of it pains him. “I am so sorry, babe. I swear.”

  I shake my head and look away.

  “Gabby, please. I was drunk and stupid and—and I let my frustrations get the best of me!” He steps forward, cupping my face in his hands. I hate that I wince, almost like I’m preparing to get hit by him again. With his eyes locked on mine, he says, “Gabs, I swear to you it will never happen again. We’ve just gotten married, babe. Don’t forget about the house we are about to move into and the life we will get to build together.”

  A tear escapes me. He strokes it away with the pad of his thumb.

  “We don’t even have to worry about kids. We can talk about that much later. Right now, my wife is the most important thing to me in this world, and I can’t lose her. I need her so damn much. I haven’t been able to sleep—I was worried sick.” He holds my face tighter and kisses my forehead. “I love you so much. Please, come back to me.”

  My heart is racing, along with my thoughts.

  I don’t know what to do.

  And I don’t know why I still feel so weak for him after what he did to me. I still love him, that’s the only answer I can come up with, and I love him even more when he kisses me deeply on the mouth. After the kiss, he collects me into a hug, cupping a hand around the back of my head and holding me to his chest.

  “Come home,” he murmurs. “We can work this out, I promise.”

  I shake my head and pull away. My vision is blurry with tears. I’m so torn. So confused.

  “I’m sorry but…I—I can’t.” I spin around and go back into Teagan’s apartment, closing the door in his face before he can react, and then curling up on the couch again.

  Teagan is relieved when she sees I’ve returned, but of course, Kyle is persistent. He shows the following day as well, this time with white roses and another speech about how he needs me more than anything. He even drops to his knees and cries, begging me to come back.

  I’m such a fool to fall for it. I think I fall for it more so because Teagan isn’t around, and no one can tell me not to do it.

  Like a fool, I write a note to Teagan, pack my bag, and go back home with Kyle.

  I wish I’d realized that going back was going to be the biggest mistake of my life.

  I believed his promises, knowing damn well that my best friend was right. He did it once, and he’d do it again, but his words were so sincere that I refused to believe he would.

  I considered what he’d done a drunken mistake, not even realizing that it would happen again, and again, and again, but in so many different, horrible ways.

  Chapter Three

  Marcel

  I’ve been trying to get a hold of Gabby for two days now.

  I’ve emailed her repeatedly, sent her text messages, and I’ve even called. I’ve left voicemails, some a little more desperate than others, but she hasn’t responded to any of those either.

  I know she didn’t want what we had going on for long, but to flat-out ignore me is pretty fucked up. Not only that, but I still have her wedding band. You’d think she’d have called to ask me about it, considering the fact that she’d told me she never took the rings off.

  I don’t understand her at all.

  I sit at my work desk, rolling the platinum band between my fingers. I have the urge to toss it in the trash bin, but that would be pointless. That stupid husband of hers would just replace it with a newer, better one anyway.

  I don’t know what it is, but deep in my bones, it feels like something isn’t right. I know her well enough to know that no matter how upset she is, she’d at least respond. Doesn’t matter if it’s a negative response, she always does.

  I push out of my chair, grabbing my keys off the desk and heading out of my office to get to my truck.

  I don’t think too much as I drive up the highway and veer off the ramp that leads to Venice Heights.

  I pull into the neighborhood, spot
ting a few people jogging and others working on their yards. I don’t stop until I’m parked along the curb in front of Gabby’s house.

  I waste no time pushing out of the truck and walking down the driveway, hoping her shithead husband isn’t around. I don’t see his car, so that’s a good sign.

  I give the door a quick knock and for several seconds, there’s no answer, so I knock again.

  Still no answer.

  I frown, looking through the sidelight windows. I don’t see a sign of anyone, so I walk down the stoop.

  I’m tempted to go back to my truck and leave, call this whole thing an act of desperation, but honestly and truly, something does not feel right about this situation.

  It’s a weekday, and she isn’t home. She was always home during the week when I worked on the yard. What would change now? And so soon? She didn’t tell me about any vacations or leaving town while we were together—not that she had to, but I’m sure she would have at least mentioned going somewhere.

  I make my way to the backyard, going around the hot tub to look up at Gabby’s studio window. No one’s there.

  I peer through one of the windows of the double doors next and that’s when I spot a silhouette by one of the sofas, just past the kitchen.

  I try getting a closer look, but it’s useless at this angle. Someone’s there though, and judging by the feminine silhouette, I’m pretty sure it’s her.

  I jog to the front of the house again, knocking harder this time.

  “Gabby, open up!” I yell, pounding on the door. I hear a small bark after I knock again. “I can hear Callie barkin’! I know you’re in there! Open up, Gabby!”

  All I get is silence in return.

  I press a hand to the door, dropping my head. “Please. I’m askin’ you nicely.”

  “Just go away, Marcel. It’s over. Okay?” Her voice catches me off guard. I pull away from the door, noticing the shakiness in her tone.

  “I have your wedding band,” I tell her. “You left it on the nightstand.”

  She’s quiet again.

  “Open up and I can give it to you.”

  “Just leave it in front of the door and go.”