Chapter 5

Angela:

The first thing I noticed was the headache.

An ache spread from the side of my head to my forehead. I opened my eyes, but the light forced me to close them again.

I groaned and raised a hand to my head, only to freeze when my fingers brushed against something unfamiliar.

There was a bandage wrapped around my head.

What the hell is going on?

I blinked until the room came into focus. Neither the ceiling nor the soft white sheets were familiar.

This wasn’t my bedroom. I should have been staring at the water stain on my ceiling, the one my landlord had promised to fix three months ago.

I turned my head, and pain shot through my skull.

“God,” I whispered, pressing my palm against my forehead.

The bedroom was enormous, with a bed larger than any I’d slept in, two armchairs, and a glass table. A television hung on the opposite wall.

But it was the windows that made me sit up. They stretched almost from floor to ceiling, overlooking glittering buildings and cars that looked like tiny toys.

My stomach tightened as I searched the room for anything that might explain how I had gotten there.

Then I remembered Darren…

The memory returned so violently that I stopped breathing.

I remembered his hand around my throat and the wall against my back. I’d clawed at his wrist, unable to pull him away. I touched the tender skin around my neck before quickly pulling my hand away as I forced myself not to wince.

Someone had dragged Darren off me. There had been shouting, followed by the sickening sound of a fist striking his face. Then I had seen the rude customer from the bar standing over him.

He’d spent hours demanding whiskey and treating everyone as an irritation… of all the people who could have come to my rescue, it had been him.

Afterward, he had asked whether Darren knew where I lived and if I had somewhere else to stay. I remembered mentioning my friend. Then I tried to stand, and I remembered everything going blank.

I checked my clothes. I was still wearing my work trousers and blouse, although my shoes were missing. My bag rested on an armchair near the window.

I swung my legs out of bed, but dizziness forced me to grip the mattress until I could stand.

Nothing about the room suggested I was in immediate danger, but I couldn’t convince myself that I was safe. Darren had taught me that appearances meant very little, he had made sure to remind me of it if I ever dared to think of forgetting.

I took one careful step, then another, heading toward my bag. If I found my phone, I could call Elena and ask her to come get me.

I had almost reached the chair when the bedroom door opened and I watched as the man from the bar entered carrying a bowl of ice water, with a folded cloth draped over his arm.

He glanced at the empty bed, then at me, and his expression changed.

“What are you doing out of bed?” I stepped back before I could stop myself. His gaze followed the movement, and I knew he’d noticed. “Take it easy,” he said, his voice quieter than I remembered. “You shouldn’t have been up in the first place.”

“Where am I?” I asked, my heart racing as I asked.

He stopped walking. “My apartment.”

My heartbeat quickened as I glanced around the room again. “Why am I here? How…? How did I get here?”

“You passed out in the alley. I caught you before you hit the ground.” He said gently.

Dizziness struck again, and I closed my eyes. I heard him move closer and instinctively raised my hand. “Please, don’t.”

He stopped where he was, giving me the space I’d asked for. When I opened my eyes, he was still several feet away. “All right,” he said. “I won’t touch you.”

For some reason, that made the tears gathering in my eyes harder to control.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

His eyebrows drew together. “For what?”

“I don’t know. I just…”

My voice broke before I could finish, and I couldn’t find the words to explain. Hours earlier, I’d refused to let him intimidate me. Now I could barely look at him without remembering Darren’s hand around my throat.

“Angela, you don’t have to apologize.” He said gently, his voice softening in a way that almost made me forget about the irritation at the bar. He glanced at the bowl. “I’ll put this down and step back. Is that all right?”

I nodded in response and watched as he placed the bowl on the bedside table and moved away exactly as he had promised.

“Can you sit down? You don’t look steady.” My trembling legs confirmed that he was right. I returned to the bed and sat with my hands folded tightly in my lap. “Do you remember hitting your head?” he asked, and I nodded, knowing that it was when Darren slammed me against the wall. “You were bleeding when you passed out. There was blood on the wall behind you and a cut near your ear.”

My fingers moved toward the bandage. “Was it bad?”

“Bad enough that I called a doctor. She cleaned the wound and dressed it.” He said, making my stomach churn. “She was concerned about your head injury and the damage to your neck. She still wants you examined at a hospital when you can go.”

My stomach tightened. Hospitals meant questions and paperwork. I didn’t want to explain Darren to another stranger or face their pity.

I nodded slowly, choosing the safe side of not answering and studied him.

He was still wearing the same black shirt, although the sleeves were rolled up now. His hair looked more disheveled, and a faint red mark covered his knuckles. “Why did you bring me here?”

“You mentioned a friend, but you passed out before telling me her name or where she lived. This was the closest safe place I could think of.”

I glanced around. “You live here?”

“Yes.” He said calmly. “This is the guest room. Your things are over there, and the door doesn’t lock from the outside. You can leave when you feel well enough, but I’d rather you stayed sitting while you’re dizzy.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“You don’t have to thank me.” I wiped my cheek and winced. “Your cheek looks sore,” he said. He wet the cloth and turned toward me. When I stiffened, he stopped and held it out. “Here. You can do it yourself. The doctor said a cold compress might help with the swelling.”

I looked toward the mirror near the wardrobe.

The sight of my reflection made my stomach drop.

A dark bruise covered my cheek, and my jaw was swollen. Beneath the bandage near my ear, red marks stood out around my throat. I remembered the pain, but seeing what Darren had done made everything real again. “Oh, God.”

I lowered my head as tears filled my eyes before I forced myself to wipe them, not wanting to look weaker than I already felt.

Darren had always made me believe everything was my fault. If he became angry, I had provoked him. If he shouted, I hadn’t listened. If he hurt me, I had forced him to lose control. I had heard those explanations so often that part of me had started believing them, and now seeing that I wasn’t being yelled at, scolded or being forced into something I didn’t want to do only made me see just how bad I forced my own life to be.

“I’m tired,” I whispered as I pressed the cloth against my cheek. The cold made me wince, but the ache soon became more bearable.

He moved toward the armchair, picked up his phone, and glanced at the screen. I noticed several missed calls before he turned it facedown. “You should rest… it’s almost four in the morning.”

He no longer appeared drunk, but the shadows beneath his eyes made me wonder whether he’d stayed awake while I was unconscious.

“I don’t even know your name.” I said, looking down at my feet.

Surprise crossed his face before he answered. “Santos… my name is Santos.”

I repeated it quietly. “Santos… thank you, Santos.”

His expression softened slightly. “You’re welcome.” He said calmly as he studied my expression. “Do you need anything?”

“No, thank you.” I said, and he nodded.

“There is water on the nightstand if you’re thirsty.” He said gently. “And if you feel worse, call me. There’s a phone beside the bed.” I only nodded in response, no longer trusting the idea of talking.

I watched as he turned to the door, opening it before he walked out without saying another word.  The door closed quietly behind him, and I listened as his footsteps faded down the hallway. My head still hurt, and swallowing was painful, but my panic was easing.

Then I remembered the ring.

My eyes widened as I reached into my pocket. Relief washed through me when my fingers found the small velvet box.

I opened the box and found the diamond ring still inside.

It was Santos’s ring, and I still hadn’t returned it.

I stared at the stone beneath the bedside light, wondering whether I should call him back. He looked exhausted, though, and I could return it in the morning.

I placed the box beside the lamp and settled beneath the sheets.

I didn’t know whether Santos was a good man. I’d seen his temper, but when I was frightened, he hadn’t demanded my trust.

Tomorrow, I would have to decide what came next. Darren knew where I worked and where I lived. None of that had changed simply because Santos had frightened him away.

But tonight, I was somewhere Darren couldn’t find me, and I could only hope that was true.

I closed my eyes and pulled the sheets closer. And as I lay there, I realized that waking up in a stranger’s home wasn’t what frightened me most.

It was how relieved I felt when I realized that stranger wasn’t going to hurt me.