Chapter 1

Cat

She pulls her knees to her chest and buries her face in them, trying to trap the warmth that’s left inside her. Her wet hair sticks to her legs like cobwebs and there’s a dull ache drumming against her skull. Despite the cold water, Cat can still feel the effects of the wine settling deep within her – warm and comforting, like an embrace. She’s cozy here in this little bubble of solace and safety. Nothing hurts here.

A sharp sound pierces through the fog of her mind, jolting her awake. It’s the bathroom door. Cat’s heart thuds against her ribcage as fear and panic seize her. She attempts to make herself smaller. Invisible. But her efforts are futile as she simply sits and waits. Soon enough he enters the room and his ominous steps echo across the tiled floor drawing closer and closer until his menacing figure towers above her. The anxiety in her stomach increases tenfold with each step he takes, like a dark wave crashing down on her with its suffocating darkness. Every breath feels like an effort, as if she’s being poisoned by terror itself – deprived of air and left to drown in despair.

He uses the silence like a weapon; a loaded gun with the barrel pressed up against her head. Like when the back of his hand connected with her face earlier. It’s all meant to prove a point. To exercise power. Every second amplifies his dominance, each shift of movement a reminder that Cat is in no position to fight back. She feels the shift of his weight and soon enough he’s at level with the bathtub. At level with her. He moves closer until she can feel his hot breath on her skin, sending chills down her spine but there’s no mercy here; just another way for him to mark his domain. Softly, sensually, he presses his lips against her arm, and she’s scorched by the flames he leaves behind.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” Years of smoking has made Nate’s voice raspy, but it’s a quality Cat has always found sexy, and she hates that even now, even in the state she’s in, that voice can still trigger a carnal want. “I overreacted.” 

Breaking things is an overreaction. Breaking someone, you claim to love is something else entirely. Cat doesn’t know what to say, but she certainly doesn’t say that.

There’s a sigh. His. Not hers. She wouldn’t dare. Only shallow breaths for her. It hurt too much to breathe deeper anyway.

“Cat…” he utters her name and tension grips her even more. “You have to forgive me…”

You have to forgive me. The phrase is a noose around her neck, growing ever tighter each time he utters it. Nate has weaponized this phrase and he unleashes it with calculated ease every time he strikes her. They’d been dating for the last two years, and he’s hit her five times since then. Each of those five times should’ve been the last. Cat knew she shouldn’t have let it get to five times. But there’s a lot of things she’d allowed in the two years since moving in with him.  

She’s suddenly taken back to the day she told her mom and stepdad Jacob she was moving in with Nate. And although she and her mom had a screaming match to rival all screaming matches, all Cat can remember is what Jacob said to her. “You’re too strong to love a weak man like Nate.”

“Cat…” impatience has crept in and it’s a precursor to his anger. Cat’s far too familiar with that anger. She’s been on the receiving end of it a fistful of times now. There was nothing physically weak about Nate.

“I…” she clears her throat, “I forgive you.” The murmured words mean nothing at this point. She only says them because it’s what he wants to hear. She only says them because she doesn’t want him to hit her again. The damage done to her body tonight will take weeks to heal.

“Please look at me.”

Cat lifts her eyes to meet his. Not because she wants to but she’s afraid not doing so will only kindle the flames of his anger. Self-preservation wins out every time. Especially so soon after he beat her. This is the part of the fight where she needed to tread lightly. 

“Babe,” thick furrowed brows set over eyes the color of ink holds her gaze. There’s something like remorse in his eyes. 

“I forgive you, Nate.” She has to look away because she knows that look of remorse isn’t genuine. 

“God, Cat,” This time the kiss is on her left shoulder, and she fights the urge to shrink away. “It won’t happen again.”

That lie has been uttered too many times before and although her body wants her to believe it, her mind can’t let go of the fact that it will happen again. Nathan is going to hit her again. It’s not a matter of if but a question of when and how bad will it be the next time. 

“It won’t happen again.” He utters a second time, maybe trying to convince himself of the lie. He places more kisses on her wet skin. Lingering kisses. Whispery soft lips, the heat of his breath trails from her shoulder, slowly down her arm, to eventually the back of her hand. “I love you so much, Cat.”

His love bomb upends her mind but seduces her flesh. Its fear, anxiety and need balled into arousal. A byproduct of her trauma. 

***

It’s sometime tomorrow when Cat is awakened by the glare of sunlight spearing through the cream-colored blinds of her bedroom window. Sleep gradually loosens its grip on her as she becomes aware that she’s alone in bed. Nate already left for work. 

He worked the typical 9-5 as a sales rep for a pharmaceutical company. But they required him to be there at eight for morning conference calls. Thursday nights he joined his work buddies at Louis’s bar and grill for a couple of beers. He’ll come stumbling high to our one-bedroom apartment at about nine or so tonight. It was typical. Part of his weekly routine. Nate is all about routine. 

Cat’s phone takes that exact moment to chime, and she’s forced to rollover and blindingly search for it on her nightstand. Sharp, white-hot pain takes her breath away for an eternal moment and her whole body stiffens. She can’t breathe too deep. It hurts even more when she tries. Eyes clenched tight, she waits and waits and waits. It’s only when the pain subsides to a dull ache that she allows herself a full breath. But it’s more of a shudder. She moves slowly this time when she reaches over for her phone. Her eyes catch the bottle of painkillers. There’s a yellow sticky note with the words: “Take Me” written across. 

Next to that is a joint he rolled for her and beneath it is another yellow sticky note: “Smoke Me”. It reads. 

He even had the foresight to leave her a lighter because she always misplaced hers. This was always Nate’s remedy to the injuries he caused. Cat couldn’t say she minded it.

She drops the phone on the pillow next to her. The lock screen is a picture of her and Nate. He has his arms around her waist, and Cat has her head resting on his chest. It was taken roughly five months ago on their weekend trip to Newport. He’d planned everything. He pulled up to the tattoo studio where she worked at about midday, happier than Cat had seen him in a while and asked if she could reschedule her clients for that day. He went on to announce to Cat and everyone else in the studio about this amazing trip he’d planned, which was supposed to be this grand romantic gesture. But all Cat could think about was disappointing her clients, some of them having waited months for appointments to get their tattoos at Pins and Needles. She’d honestly didn’t feel like going away. 

All she’d wanted to do was focus on work. Losing herself in her art was the best way she knew to get through traumatic situations. But she’d pushed all that aside, smiled as big as she could and gave him a grateful hug. She’d gone because she knew what it would mean if she refused. 

She swipes the screen and focuses in on their picture. They’re standing in front of the Mello family Vineyard, there’s a sunset behind them painting the sky a mix of orange, red and lavender hues. It’s a cute picture. Instagram-worthy. Polished. Filtered. Fake. 

No one knew that just days before She and Nate were at a clinic, armed with half of their rent money with the unwavering intent to take a life. Cat wasn’t sure if the weekend trip was meant to be a celebratory one. What she did know was that the guilt and grief of what she’s done has grown increasingly suffocating as of late, sometime to the point where she found herself paralyzed by it. 

She grits her teeth against the wave of pain radiating mostly from her left side, just beneath her ribcage. But it’s a pain Cat will take any day over the open wounds of her mistakes. Her sins. 

Stop thinking. She tells herself. She taps the recent call icon in the lower left corner of her phone. It’s her mother. She’s called at least three times in the last two days and Cat has yet to call her back. Cat knows she can’t dodge her much longer because she knows how deep her mother’s crazy went. 

During Cat’s first year at college, her mom drove all the way from their small Easterly town to Boston in a panic because Cat had gone two days without calling. Her mom’s fear was fueled by her obsession with murder documentaries, and she imagined the worst possible scenarios for Cat’s absence. To avoid causing her mom any more worry, Cat made it a habit to call her at least once a day, but that has gradually decreased since moving in with Nate. Now, it’s been over a week since she actually spoke to her mom, and she knows there will be multiple voicemails waiting for her. Feeling overwhelmed and seeking temporary relief, Cat reaches for a joint and turns off her phone before lighting up.

One ring, then a familiar voice greets her on the other end. “Hi Mom,” Cat answers, trying to match her mother’s cheerful tone.

“Don’t you give me a ‘hi mom’, Catherine-Grace,” her mother’s stern voice blasts through the phone, causing Cat to wince and pull it away from her ear. She knows she’s in trouble.

“Why did it take you so long to call me back? Were you trying to give me a heart attack? All I got was your voicemail. Do you have any idea how worried sick I’ve been? I was about ready to drive down there–“

“Mom, please don’t,” Cat interrupts, her heart racing at the thought of her mother driving all the way to see her.

“I would have come sooner myself, but you know how Jacob is,” her mother continues, referring to her stepfather who had always been overprotective of her, especially when Cat’s father was still around. After her knee surgery a few months ago, Jacob insisted on driving everywhere with her.

Cat lets out a sigh of relief, knowing her mother won’t be making the trip anytime soon.

“Mom, I’ve been really busy lately. I have a lot of clients and school assignments to juggle…and studying…and Nate…” she trails off, thinking of her boyfriend.

“I understand you have a life, but that’s no excuse for not calling your mother back. I worry about you, Kit.”

The mention of “Kit” triggers something deep inside Cat. Her mom only used that nickname when she was extremely anxious, and it brings back a flood of memories from their tumultuous past. Memories of her dad’s terror and the constant cycle of fear and anxiety they were trapped in. A lump forms in Cat’s throat as she tries to suppress the emotions welling up inside of her.

“I’m sorry.” Cat murmurs. She didn’t want to fight with her mom. “I miss you.” 

Tears well up in Cat’s eyes and she fights the urge to sniffle. 

“What’s wrong?” her mom asks, and Cat can feel her heart pounding against the bruise Nate left on her ribs. 

“Nothing,” she replies, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice, but her mom can hear it anyway. There’s a brief moment of silence before Cat feels like she can almost hear her mom’s thoughts on the other end of the line. “Please tell me what’s going on, Kit. I can hear it in your voice.” Her tone softens as she tries to understand. It’s like she knows exactly what Cat is dealing with. Cat takes another drag from her joint, the smoke filling her lungs and providing a temporary numbness to the physical pain on her side. But it does nothing to ease the ache in her chest. 

“I’m just tired, Mom. It’s been a long week,” she lies, her voice trembling as she fights back tears. She knows it won’t be enough to satisfy her mom’s curiosity. She’ll keep probing until she finds out the truth. And then what? How could Cat possibly explain that the person she thought she knew had a dark and ugly side? That the man who promised to protect her was slowly destroying her every time his anger got out of control? That somehow, she still blames herself for everything – for not leaving sooner, for not saying no, for not standing up for herself?

There’s another long pause on the other end of the line and Cat can hear her mom breathing. “Is it Nathan?” she asks finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Cat doesn’t say anything. The truth is, she doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t know how to make her mom understand that she’s scared, that she feels trapped and alone.

“Is he hurting you?”

Cat can hear the fear in her mom’s voice, and it mirrors the same fear she feels deep in her bones. “Mom, I can’t talk about this right now,” she finally says, barely above a whisper.

“I knew it. I should have never let you move in with him.”

“Mom…” Cat pleads, desperate for her to stop. “I just…I need some time to figure things out.”

She braces herself for the inevitable lecture, but instead, her mom surprises her. “Figure it out here. Come home, Kit, your room is exactly how you left it.”

Her words catch Cat off guard, and suddenly she yearns for the safety and comfort of her childhood bedroom, the familiarity of her hometown, and the unconditional love of her mother.

“Nickie and Jackson are coming down Friday night.” Her mother changes the subject and Cat is relieved.

Nickie was Jacob’s daughter from his previous marriage. She was three years older than Cat and they didn’t have much in common except for being raised by single mothers. But Nickie had always been there for Cat during tough times growing up. She used to come over every other weekend when they were younger because Jacob shared custody with his ex-wife Celeste until Nickie went off to college. Recently, Nickie had gotten engaged to her high school sweetheart Jackson and according to Cat’s mom, they were planning on buying a house in Easterly after getting married.

“It’ll be good seeing them.”

“You’re coming?”

Cat hesitates for a moment, unsure if going back home is the best decision for her. Going home means having to face the reality of her situation. But the sudden urge to escape Nate wins out, “Yeah, I’m coming home.”

The phone call continues for another twenty minutes. Her mom asks about school and Cat gives a vague but positive response, leaving out the fact that she hasn’t been attending classes regularly due to her busy work schedule. Her mom offers money and reminds her to eat, knowing that Cat tends to neglect self-care when overwhelmed. Nate is not mentioned again.

“Have you gone to church?” This question annoys Cat, and she knows it’s time to end the call.

“Not really.”

“Calvary streams their services online…”

“Mom, I have to go, but I’ll see you in a few ways. Love you.” Cat waits for her mom to say it back before hanging up.

The concept of God was never part of their reality until her mom met Jacob. He was a devout Christian who spoke about God as if he were real. Her mom, eager to make things work after her previous marriage from hell, eagerly embraced Christianity at Calvary where Jacob was a pastor. They forced Cat to attend a few times before she left for college, but she wanted nothing to do with the judgmental people at the church or a supposedly all-knowing God who allowed terrible things to happen without intervening.

Chapter 3

CAT

It was roughly an hour from East Providence to Easterly. Cat knows her mom would be expecting her home within the next twenty minutes or so. Seeing as that wasn’t going to happen any time soon, Cat decides to walk. She’s never been good at being idle and the way she figures, she could make it to the gas station and call her mom or Jacob from there. Decision made, she grabs her backpack from the backseat, along with her purse and hops out of her car. She’s almost positive there’s a gas station maybe a mole or two up the road. As she closes the driver door behind her, she takes in her surroundings. The sun was beginning to set, and it cast a warm golden glow over the trees. The air was cool and crips, but Cat is determined to reach the gas station before it gets any colder. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Cat sets off confidently in what she hopes is the direction of the gas station. 

*~*~*~*

BRADY

Brady pulls the rag dangling from his back pocket and begins wiping away the thick coating of grease on his hands. He backs up a few steps, taking in the sight of his handiwork with a satisfied grin. The freshly painted cherry red Mustang shone brightly in the sunlight. A deep rumble came from the engine as it idled. Over a year had gone into bringing this model back to life. Jacob had bought the 1966 Mustang from Russo’s junkyard and asked if Brady could restore it to its former glory. It’d been worth every minute of labor. Jacob was going to be stoked when he saw it.

Brady’s sense of accomplishment quickly fades as the sound of an engine growls outside the garage. Peering out the large pane window he spots Hannah’s black Mercedes double parked on the side of the garage. The driver door whips open, and Hannah explodes from it like a tornado. She stomps around the side of the car and yanks open the left passenger door.

“Get Out!” 

“NO!” 

“For Christ’s sake Maddie, Get out now!” 

“No.”

“I don’t have time for this shit! You need to get out!”

“No! I wanna go back home!” 

“Damnit, Maddie! how many times do I have to tell you? there’s no one there to watch you. I have to go to work.”

“I don’t care!”

“ARGH! Brady!”

With a heavy sigh, Brady realizes he needs to step in. He exits the garage, his hands still greasy and his jeans splattered with paint. As soon as Hannah sees him, her expression turns to frustration. She’s always been fiery, quick to get angry but also quick to forgive. This was especially true when it came to Miles, Brady’s older brother – who was just like the rest of the Bishop boys, a screw up. Despite Miles’ repeated letdowns, Hannah couldn’t seem to shake off her soft spot for him.

Over a year ago, Miles disappeared without a trace, leaving Hannah to raise their twelve-year-old daughter Madison on her own. The last time Brady heard from him was about a month ago – he called and said he was okay. He asked Brady to tell Hannah that he just needed some time to sort things out. And Brady promised to take care of Miles’ family while he was gone, without hesitation. He even told Miles that he would be there for him if he ever wanted to come back. It was a short phone call and when Brady delivered the message to Hannah, she didn’t take it well. But deep down, Brady knows that if Miles were to return right now, Hannah would take him back in an instant, despite his drug addiction and constant arguments with her.

“What’s going on?” He asks, calmly. 

“Maddie’s being a pain in the ass, as fucking usual.” Hannah replies, throwing her hands up in frustration. 

“I’m sure it’s not helping with you cursing at her like that, Han.” 

She glares at Brady, “Give me a fucking break, Brady. Listen, I have to work tonight. One of the nurses in the ICU asked I can swap shifts with her. I can’t leave Mads home alone again. The last time I was stupid enough to do that, she almost burnt my house down smoking a joint.” 

“That I got from you!” Maddie yells from the backseat of the car.

“Who the hell cares where you got it from? you’re not supposed to be going through my stuff or smoking my shit!”

“Enough,” Brady says firmly, cutting of the bickering between them. “Maddie can stay with me for the night and you can pick her up after your shift tomorrow.”

Hannah looks at him skeptically, “You sure?”

“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t. I’ve got to pick up some equipment from Russo’s Hardware on Main. I’ll take Mads with me and we can grab a bite to eat after. We’ll make a night of it.” 

“Brady, I owe you one.”

“Don’t start counting now.” He utters wryly and opens the rear door of her Jeep. “Alright, Kiddo, come on out. You’re with me tonight.” 

With a scowl on her face, Maddie slides out of the backseat at a snail’s pace. She’s definitely taken after her mother in terms of looks and height. At twelve years old, she was still pretty small; her height barely reaching five feet. Her dark brown hair was tied up in a high ponytail, just like her mother’s, but her eyes were all Miles – a deep bourbon color that shoot daggers at Brady. She’d inherited not only the Bishop family’s signature eyes, but also their thick eyebrows and straight nose. There was no doubt that she was Brady’s niece. Her casual outfit consisted of sweatpants and an old Transformers t-shirt.

“I don’t want to stay with you.” She whines, arms folded over her chest.

“Learn this lesson quick Kid, you won’t always get what you want in life. Now grab your backpack and give your mother a hug.” She huffs in frustration, knowing she has no other choice, she reluctantly complies. She gives her mother a half-hearted half hug before stepping away. 

“Be good, Mads.” Hannah warns. “Don’t give your uncle Brady a hard time.”

Maddie rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t planning on it.” she bites back. 

Hannah drives off and Brady leads her back to the garage. Maddie follows at a distance. 

“Wait here I’m going to wash up and change and we’ll head out in a few.” He comes back a short time later to find her walking around the mustang, a look of admiration on her face. 

“Is this your car, Uncle Brady?”

“Nope, just restored it for church friend of mine.”

“Is this what you do all day?”

“Yes and no. I fix cars. But restoring cars is a hobby.”

“I’ve never seen a car like this in person before. It’s really cool.”

Brady chuckles, a part of him beaming with pride. “Oh, it’s definitely cool.” He says, taking her backpack from her shoulder. 

He sets it down in the back of his Ford Pickup before walking around to open the door for her. “Hop in and buckle up.”

~*~*~*~

The rumble of the truck engine fills the quiet garage as Brady carefully backs out of the designated spot and onto the street. He takes a deep breath before turning to Maddie, his voice taking on a serious tone. “So, you’ve started smoking weed?” he asks bluntly, glancing at her for any reaction.

Maddie releases a deep sigh and turns to look out the window, avoiding Brady’s gaze. “I didn’t even smoke it.” she mutters, frustration evident in her voice. “Mom is just making a big deal about nothing like she always does.”

“And you’re not taking this seriously enough,” Brady counters, his tone firm. “Look, Mads, I’m not going to treat you like you’re stupid. We both know you’re not.” He pauses, choosing his words carefully. “Addiction runs deep in our family, especially in the Bishop bloodline. Your dad and I—“

“I don’t want to talk about him,” Maddie growls through her teeth, meeting Brady’s stare dead on. The pain and anger in her eyes are palpable. “He’s dead to me.”

Brady lets out a heavy breath. Who could blame her for feeling that way? He certainly didn’t. Miles had been in and out of jail since Maddie was born and when he was around, there was always chaos. Whenever things got too bad, Brady would take Maddie in for a few weeks at a time so she wouldn’t have to witness the violence between her parents.

“I get it,” Brady says quietly, the weight of their conversation sinking in. Unlike his two youngest brother, Kyle and Oliver, Brady and Miles had the same father. But the man had fallen victim to his own addictions before either Miles or Brady had a chance to know him. The men that their mother let into their lives in the wake of his death had only brought pain and misery with them. 

“But that doesn’t mean you can ignore the reality of what addiction can do. Your decisions have consequences, Maddison. If you start using drugs, it could lead to very serious problems down the line.”

“I know,” she replies solemnly. “It was a stupid thing to do.” Maddie turns away from him and gazes out the window. It was true, she knew that getting caught up in drugs could lead to terrible things. She had seen what they had done to her parents, and she didn’t want to go down that path. “I won’t do it again.” Maddie says, her voice small. “Uncle Brady…?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Have you…have you ever been addicted to anything?”

Brady pauses for a moment, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. Memories flood his mind. He remembers the nights spent tossing and turning, consumed by cravings for substances that he knew would only bring him temporary relief. He recalls the desperation as he searched for his next fix, losing himself in a whirlwind of self-destruction. But most of all, he remembers the hollow emptiness that addiction left in its wake shattering his sense of self.

“Yeah, Maddie,” he admits, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. “I have struggled with addiction in the past.”

“But you stopped?”

Brady nods solemnly. “Yes, I’ve been clean for over ten years now.”

“What made you stop?” she asks cautiously.

“I met Jesus,” he says with a soft smile, “he gave me a new life. His love and grace helped me to break free from the chains of addiction. Jesus is the reason I’m fixing cars and not rotting in jail or dead.”

Maddie falls silent for a moment, seemingly absorbing his words. “I don’t want to end up like my dad.” she admits quietly.

Brady’s heart ached for his niece, knowing that her pain was real and unavoidable. “You don’t have to,” as long as there was breath left in his lungs, he would do everything he could to prevent yet another Bishop kid from tumbling down the same destructive path. “I want you to remember that you’re not alone.” Brady says softly, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.  “We’re family, and family looks out for each other. I will always be here to support you, no matter what.”

“Thanks, Uncle Brady.” She reaches over to turn on the car radio. She doesn’t bother to change the Christian station that plays softly in the background. The lyrics from a Phil Wickham song fills the truck, providing a sense of comfort amidst the heavy conversation. Maddie occasionally hums along as they fall into comfortable silence. 

As the miles pass by, Brady can’t help but think back to his own teenage years. This very road used to be his playground, where he would race down with his friends. He remembers the thrill of speeding down this long stretch of blacktop, the wind rushing through his hair and the adrenaline coursing through his veins. It was a different kind of high back then. He hadn’t grown up in Easterly like Maddie, but two highways over in Central Falls. The Pit. Memories of skipping school and heading to Easterly with his friends, floods Brady’s mind. They would find secluded spots in the vast forests that bordered the small highway and fueled by alcohol and drugs they would spend hours doing reckless things.  Those memories seem like a lifetime ago now, and it always brought a pang to Brady’s chest to realize that most of those friends were gone or serving life sentences in prison. Time may have passed, but the ache never went away. But it was a constant reminder that by God’s grace he’d been given a second change at his life, to make something of himself and as he looks over at his niece, Brady was more than determined to steer her away from his mistakes and the best way he knew to do it was to help guide and lead her to Christ.

They drive up another mile or two when he spots someone walking on the side of the road, but it’s the individual’s light purple hair that catches his attention. 

CAT 

Cat’s attention is mostly on the long stretch of road ahead, her mind occupied with the miles she still has to walk. She pulls up her hoodie and tightens her bag straps, trying to protect herself from the harsh wind that cuts through her clothing. Maybe walking wasn’t the best option, she thinks to herself as a gust of wind hits her, she shivers and wraps her hood tighter around her face. She knows better than to expect anyone to stop for her, and she wouldn’t stop for a stranger either. So, when a large black pickup truck actually pulls over just a few feet ahead of her, Cat is taken aback. Fear and curiosity keep her rooted in place as she watches the intimidating vehicle.

A tall, broad-shouldered man steps out of the driver’s side and Cat can feel his dominating presence immediately. His purposeful strides and controlled movements only add to his strong aura. She notices his tousled chestnut hair cascading past his broad shoulders. He wears a snug black sweatshirt that accentuates his muscular arms, faded blue jeans, and worn black boots that bring him closer with each step.

As he walks towards her, Cat’s eyes trail up his neck and she catches a glimpse of tattoos peeking out from under his collar.

“Hey,” he calls out in a deep, rough voice that unexpectedly sends shivers down Cat’s spine. “Looks like you could use a hand.”

He stops right in front of her, and Cat’s breath catches in her throat.

Wow. The man is incredibly good-looking up close.

There’s character in the slight crook of his nose and pronounced cheekbones leading down to a strong jawline covered in scruff. He exudes an air of roughness, an unrefined nature that lies just beneath his confident exterior. Cat can’t help but feel drawn to him. Her interest only grows stronger as their eyes meet and words fail to come out of her mouth. His eyes are a deep, warm amber, like the sinking sun on the horizon. They hold an intensity that draws her in, as if they are searching every inch of her face.

She becomes aware that she’s been staring at him for too long and quickly averts her eyes, feeling her cheeks flush with warmth. “Actually, I’m waiting for a friend to come pick me up,” she lies unconvincingly. He gives her a knowing look, his eyes glinting with amusement.  

“Are you sure?”

The way he looks at her suggests he knows she’s lying. It’s getting darker by the minute and Cat has no idea how much further she has to walk before reaching the gas station. Not to mention, the already freezing temperature seems to have dropped even more since she started walking thirty minutes ago. Her hoodie did little to keep her warm and she was actually shivering more than she let on. She takes a moment to weigh her options: tough it out and hope to make it to the gas station or take her chances with the attractive stranger and hope he’s not some deranged murderer. Just then, a young girl with brown hair jumps out of the truck’s passenger side.

“Is everything okay, Uncle Brady?” She asks, staying close to the black pickup.

“Yeah, just offering some help,” he responds loudly, turning to face the little girl. Cat finally exhales, realizing that she’d been holding her breath. 

Uncle Brady. With his niece around, there was no way this man could harm her. Right?

It frustrated Cat that she couldn’t trust her own judgment anymore, after years of being manipulated by Nate in their toxic relationship. But as she looks up and meets his curious gaze again, she feels an instinctual sense of trust towards this man; something tells her he means no harm.

A small smile forms on his lips. “I’m Brady,” he introduces himself, extending a hand for Cat to shake. She hesitantly takes it and is surprised by the strength and gentleness of his grip, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. 

“I’m Cathrine, but everyone calls me Cat,” she responds, feeling slightly breathless from his intense gaze. “I would really appreciate that ride if you’re still offering.”

“Of course,” he leads her to the passenger side of his pickup truck where his niece stands. “Cathrine, this is my niece, Maddie.” Slightly taken aback by the sound of her full name coming from his lips, Cat tries to hide her surprise as she looks at Maddie. The young girl stares back at her with curious light brown eyes.

“Hi,” she quietly greets, giving a small wave.

“Hello Maddie,” Cat replies with a warm smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Alright kiddo, you can sit in the back,” Brady says as he guides Maddie to the backseat and closes the door behind her once she’s settled in. As Cat moves towards the passenger side door, Brady quickly strides ahead and opens it for her. The air around them seems charged with energy as they stand close together, with Cat completely captivated by him. His intoxicating scent fills her lungs as she inhales deeply. “Are you getting in?” he asks with a grin.

Cat clears her throat, snapping out of her trance. “Uh, yeah sorry.”

The door closes just as she slides into the passenger seat. The leather seats hug her body, and the car smells like a combination of leather and something masculine, like cologne. Cat can feel Brady’s presence close to her, his body heat radiating towards her as he gets in the driver’s seat and starts the engine. 

Cat tries to ignore the way her heart races in her chest as Brady shifts into gear and pulls back onto the road, the purr of the engine filling the small space. The silence palpable, each of them acutely aware of the other’s presence. Cat steals a glance at him, taking in the way his strong hands grip the steering wheel and the way his muscles flex with every movement. Her skin prickles with awareness and she can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to be in his arms. 

What is wrong with you? Get a grip, Cat. Her mind fires back.

“So, where to?” he asks, breaking the silence and pulling Cat out of her thoughts. 

Cat hesitates for a moment. Having Brady drop her off at the gas station is the safest choice. But the desperation of wanting to get to her mom wins out. “I was actually on the way to see my mom. She’s on Glendale Court just another three miles up from here. It’d be great if you can drop me off there.”

“You got it, I know exactly where that is. In fact, I know someone who lives on Glendale court.” He replies and before Cat can follow up with a question Maddie speaks up from the backseat. “What happened to your car?” she asks. 

Cat is grateful for the distraction. “I thought I had enough gas to get me from Providence to Easterly. But I ran out just a little bit ago.” 

“Why didn’t you just call for help?” 

Cat lets out a sheepish laugh. “I forgot to charge my phone.”

“Not very smart of you.”

“Watch it, kid.”

Cat laughs this time, actually meaning it. “No, it’s okay. She’s totally right. Can’t say I’ve been making the smartest choices these days.”  

Brady glances at Cat, a small smile on his lips. “We all make mistakes,” he says, his voice low and smooth. “Sometimes it’s just a matter of being in the right place and having the right person show up to help you out.” His eyes flicker to hers before returning to the road. “I’m just glad we were able to find you in time.”

“Yeah,” Cat says quietly, “it’s lucky you guys happen to drive by.”

He makes a noise, “I don’t believe luck has anything to do with it.”

Cat looks at him with a frown, “What do you mean?”

He turns his head, and they lock eyes for a brief moment, “God is control of everything we do.”

Cat sighs, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “I don’t believe that’s true.” she says, looking out the window. “I don’t believe in God.” 

Silence falls soon after and it’s only broken when Maddie speaks up again from the backseat. “Uncle Brady, can you put up the volume? I like this song.”

“You got it.” He murmurs before reaching in front of him to dial up the volume.

“What’s the name of the song?” 

“Lord, I need you.” he replies. 

Cat waits, one, two, three seconds to see if Brady will say anything else to her. But he doesn’t and Cat figures maybe it’s for the best. She doesn’t really want to talk too much anyway. She hears Maddie humming the tune under her breath in the backseat, but it’s soft enough that Cat can tune it out. 

 Cat leans further back into the seat with a small sigh. She closes her eyes, letting the hum of the engine lull her into a sense of peace. 

God, what a day. 

When she woke up this morning, Cat never imagined she’d actually muster up the strength to just leave. She can almost guarantee Nate had called and texted more than a dozen times by now. Cat was sure that he was probably coming to some conclusion about her lack of communication. He will undoubtedly come back to their apartment in a rage. His cold, predictable rage that’s able to produce such an unimaginable fear in Cat. Fear that grips her now, it settles into her bones in anticipation of an attack. The song doesn’t help.

 What ifs begin to germinate in Cat’s mind. What if he’s on his way to her mom’s? What if he was already there? Cat knows her mom won’t believe his lies. But Nate can charm his way out of a paper bag. He’ll say something, convince her to let him in and–would he hurt her?

 The panic that begins to spread through Cat feels like a physical weight pressing her down into the seat. 

Can’t breathe. I need air. 

“Are you alright?” Cat is sure he sees the rabid panic on her face when she turns to look at him. She’s sure he wishes he’d never made the decision to pick up an absolute whack job. She turns and clutches at the door handle of the passenger door. 

“Catherine.” The weight of his hand comes to settle on her shoulder, and Cat nearly leaps out of her skin.

“Please let me out.” She’s suddenly yanking non-too- gently at the door handle. A step below violent. “Let me out…!” Does he hear the hysteria in her voice?

“Alright…” Brady’s voice is calm and steady, but Cat can sense his concern.

A few seconds later they’re turning off the main road into a small street with houses lining both sides of the street. He comes to an abrupt stop in front of one of the houses on this particular street and cuts the engine.

The world swirls around Cat as soon as she opens the door and she tries to breathe in huge gulps of air, holding onto the car for support. 

Her heart races like a rabbit as Brady’s voice comes from behind her, worry in every syllable. “Catherine, are you alright?” His powerful hands grip her shoulders as he gently pulls her back from the car. His intense gaze scans over her, searching for any signs of hurt. 

Cat shakes her head, unable to breathe properly. Suddenly Cat finds his face, gently, tenderly cradled in his large calloused hands and his piercing eyes fasten on hers. 

“Shh,” he soothes, “take a deep breath,” his low voice rumbles with a soothing command and he inhales deeply to show her how. “In through your nose,” following his lead Cat sucks in air through her nose, “Good,” he murmurs. “Now, out through your mouth.” She follows his direction again feeling the panic ebb as she exhales out of her mouth. 

“Good girl,” She doesn’t find it all belittling when he says that. In fact, Cat finds herself silently basking in it. “In,”  There’s only him. “Out,” There’s only his molten gaze anchoring hers. His deep voice gently coaxing her back from oblivion. As she breathes with him, concentrating solely on matching his rhythm, fear slowly dissipates and Cat finds herself taking in more controlled breaths. 

“Thank you,” she chokes out, her throat still tight with emotion. “I’m sorry for freaking out like that.” 

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he replies, “Don’t be sorry. It’s okay not to be okay sometimes.” Warmth spreads throughout her body at the understanding in his tone and Cat can’t begin to put into words how grateful she is to him for this moment.  

“You, okay?” His deep voice vibrates against her chest, calming the jittery nerves within and she nods slowly, forcing out a whispered “Yeah,” as she the last traces of fear drifts away. Just before he releases her face, his thumb sweeps across her cheek in a gentle caress. Cat barely has a chance to lean into it before his hands are gone and it astonishes her just how badly she wants his touch back.

Chapter 2

Cat

“Hey Dawn, I’m taking some time off.” Dawn is the co-owner of pins and needles and Cat’s boss. Cat had apprenticed at four studios before finding her place in Dawn’s studio.

“Yeah, I kind of got that when your boyfriend called and said you weren’t feeling well.” 

Nate called. Cat’s stomach churns with anxiety, and she can feel the muscles in her body tense up.

He’s done that twice before. Called in sick for her. Only when his anger got the best of him, and he retaliated by using her body as his punching bag. The first time was bad. The second even worse. Each incident needing longer days out of the public eye to heal. Pain management was handled recreationally. 

“Yeah, I asked him to call but I wasn’t sure he’d remember,” Cat says with a small laugh. Every lie is to save face. 

There’s a pause on the other line. It’s not long but noticeable enough that Cat thinks Dawn might say something she doesn’t want her to. Like, did your boyfriend use you as a punching bag again?

“What do you want me to do with the three custom pieces scheduled?” 

“I’ll reach out to them.” Two of those custom pieces were friends. Terrance and Olive were Cat’s roommates freshman year. They’d followed each other on Instagram, and they reached out last month to request custom pieces. Terrance was getting a half-sleeve of wildflowers. Olive wanted something more minimalist. Cat finished the sketches a few days ago and texted them the images. Terrance was scheduled for tomorrow and Olive the day after. They would be expecting the best, but Cat was currently in no physical shape to provide them the best of her work. 

There aren’t many things Cat could take pride in; in fact, she didn’t think she was good at much of anything. But she’d always had the ability to draw hyper realistic drawings. Somewhere along the way she transferred that ability from canvas to human skin. 

“They’ll understand.” Cat can only assume that they will. 

“Alright, feel better.” 

“Thanks.” 

As the traffic light turns red, she comes to a gradual stop and takes the opportunity to reach over to her passenger seat where her large tote bag sits. Thankfully, the prescription bottle of pain medication is easily accessible and she takes out three 500 milligram pills of Acetaminophen. With some difficulty, she swallows them down with a gulp of her iced coffee. As soon as the light turns green, she signals right to merge onto the busy interstate. Her Jeep Wrangler quickly accelerates from 40 to 80 miles per hour, making good time on her journey. According to the GPS, she still has 38 miles to go on route 292 South. Wanting some background music, she taps on the Spotify icon on her dashboard and her mix of 90s R&B and 80s pop songs begins playing. The familiar tune of “Everywhere” by Fleetwood Mac fills the car and she leans back in her seat, feeling more relaxed. Suddenly, the gummy edible she took earlier starts to take effect at just the right moment. The next fifty minutes will be a comfortable drive for her, thanks to self-medication. The pain that was plaguing her earlier is now reduced to only a dull ache. She managed to hide any visible bruises with makeup and her loose clothing does well to conceal any others. Despite the freezing February weather, she’s grateful for an excuse to wear baggy mom-jeans and a hoodie.

Cat’s phone rings and her heart jolts. She looks down at the screen and exhales a sigh of relief. It’s not Nate. It’s her best friend Wynn. She presses the green phone button on the steering to answer her call. 

“Hey Lady, I didn’t hear back from you last night. Was Nate okay after I left? He looked pissed off that I was even there in the first place.”

Cat takes a sip of her iced coffee before speaking. “It was partly my fault. I didn’t let him know you were coming, and he doesn’t handle unexpected visitors well.” she says, trying to downplay the situation.

“I should have told him, but it slipped my mind. I’ve been so focused on creating pieces for Terrance and Olive that I forgot to mention it to him.”

“But don’t you think his reaction was a bit extreme? I know you two argue, but I had no idea he had such a temper.”

“He was just in a bad mood, Wynn.” A huge understatement, but Cat doesn’t want to worry her. Wynn is the only one who knows about Nate’s anger issues.

She witnessed it firsthand at Pub and Suds, the off-campus bar they all hung out at during their first year of dating. Cat can’t recall all the details from that night, but she remembers Nate telling her not to drink too much, and she may have responded with some sass. She also remembers him grabbing her arm and pulling her away from their group of friends. He took her to a secluded area near the restrooms and pushed her against a wall.

Cat didn’t realize Wynn had followed until she heard her shouting “Hey!” which stopped Nate from causing more harm that night. The excuse Cat used was that he gets aggressive when he drinks, but the truth is Nate despises alcohol. He’d rather smoke a handful of joints than drink beer any day.

“You know how he is.”

Wynn sighs. “I know, but it doesn’t make it okay. Have you thought about leaving him? I mean, he’s putting his hands on you, Cat. That’s not right.”

Cat grips the steering wheel tighter and stare straight ahead. “It’s not that easy, Wynnie. You know that.”

“I know, I know,” Wynn says, and for a moment there’s nothing but silence on the line. “You know you can crash here; Andy won’t mind.” Andy was Wynn’s girlfriend. 

“I know and thank you. I’m actually heading to my mom’s for a bit.”

“You’re leaving?”

“I just need some space and time to think.”

“I agree. Did you tell him where you’re going?”

“I’m sure he’ll put two and two together eventually when he finds out I’m not with you.”

“Well, he won’t hear it from me.”

“Thanks. So, what’s happening on your end.” Cat’s grateful when she doesn’t push for more.

“I finally heard from my parents about Thanksgiving.”

“And?”

“They said it was okay for me to bring Andy. They want to meet her.”

“Wow, meeting the parents. That’s huge.”

Wynn sighs. “And way too soon, right? I’m mean what am doing here, Cat? I’ve only been dating this girl for like two months. And you know she’s the only girl I’ve ever dated.”

“I know,”

“And I really like her. I think she might be my person; you know?”

“Yes,”

“But do you think I’m moving too fast here? My parents are just now coming around to the idea of me being bi and I’m like springing this girl on them…”

“Think of it this way, it’s no different than them meeting a guy you’ve been dating for the same amount of time.”

“Cat, you’ve known me since junior year in high school. I have never brought a guy home this early in our relationship.”

“So maybe the question to ask is what makes Andy so special?”

Wynn falls silent long enough that Cat has to take a quick glance at the screen to make sure she didn’t hang up. “Did you short circuit there?” 

A heavy sigh. “Seems like it.” she says wryly. “Maybe I’m overthinking it. Maybe it’s not that serious and I’m making a big deal out of nothing, right?”

“Right,” Cat quietly reassures, “I think your parents love you enough that they’ll be okay with whoever you’re dating. “

“Yeah… I guess. Thanks for talking me off the ledge.”

“That’s what friends are for.”

Their conversation veers toward a lighter note and eventually they say goodbye. Cat promises to text her when she arrives at her parents. It’s maybe ten minutes later that her phone rings again and this time it’s Nate. Fear crawls up her spine as she restrains herself from answering. He was checking on her. Cat knows this with certainty because he doesn’t deviate from his routine. Just like she told Wynn he’ll eventually guess that she’s gone to her mom. It’s the only place far enough that he can’t immediately reach her.

The last two times he hit her Cat stayed in their apartment for three weeks. She’d mustered up enough bravery to tell him if it happened again, she would leave and go to her mom’s. He’d whispered it would be the last time while he took care of her. He’d been so attentive. So, kind. So Gentle. So much so she allowed herself to be fooled. Cat performed mental gymnastics in order to justify the abuse. 

She wasn’t sure what the difference between then and now is, but she knew she needed space from him. She needed time to think. She needed her mom. 

She lets the phone ring and ring and ring. He’s persistent and calls another three times. It’s followed by texts. Cat forces herself not to reply. 

As she drives on the interstate, the scenery gradually changes, giving way to more rural landscapes. Cat feels herself start to relax, the tension in her body easing slightly. The painkillers are doing their job, numbing the worst of the physical pain.

But the emotional pain is still there, a constant dull ache in her chest. Nate’s calls and texts are a reminder of that pain, of the cycle of abuse she’s been trapped in for so long. Despite everything, a small part of her was still in love with him, still wanted to believe that he could change.

But Cat knows deep down that it’s not going to happen. Not without him acknowledging the problem and seeking help. And even then, she’s not sure she could ever truly trust him again.

~*~

Easterly is two interstates away, roughly forty-five minutes from East Providence. The drive there flies by as Cat maintains a steady eighty. She knows the way but keeps the GPS on to warn her of state troopers. 

Twenty minutes away from home the GPS instructs her take the exit ramp on the right. Easterly is just beyond the winding curve of that ramp. Trees, trees and more trees line the ten mile stretch of blacktop that will eventually lead Cat to her street. 

Windows down, her favorite 90s playlist blasting through the speakers, she’s singing obnoxiously along to a song when without warning the car begins making a sputtering sound. Terror brings her heart careening into her ribcage as she instantly reaches out a hand to shut off her radio. A quick glance at the dashboard reveals one of her worst fears. 

The gas light is on and Cat inwardly facepalms. This is what she gets for neglecting to get gas before leaving. But in her defense, she thought a quarter tank of gas was enough to at least get her home. Obviously, she was wrong.

Her heart drops as the car slogs along, the engine sputtering as it sucks up the last bit of fuel. A jolt of adrenaline forces her to maintain control as she puts on her emergency signals and shifts the transmission to neutral. She just manages to use the breaks to maneuver the car to the right shoulder of the road when the engine refuses to turn over and the car comes to a complete stop. 

Cat lets out a breath as she peels her stiff, sweaty fingers from around the steering wheel. A part of her is grateful that her dad taught her a few things about cars before he went to prison. The man was a useless drunk but at least the knowledge he provided came in handy just now. One of those things being, how to pull over to the shoulder of the road when you had a flat tire. Cat didn’t have a flat, but same idea. He may have been an abusive drunk, but the man knew cars. 

She clenches and unclenches her hands into fists to rid them of their noticeable quiver before lowering them to her lap. Pressing her head back against the headrest she lets relief sink into limbs as her heartbeat returns to normal. It’s not that bad. She silently consoles herself. It could’ve definitely been worse. And although she’s now stranded, at least she didn’t get into an accident. 

Taking in a shuddering breath Cat reaches for her cell phone in the empty cup holder.

But as soon as she picks it up, she realizes she forgot to charge it before leaving. The battery is dead. 

Fantastic adulting here, Cat. Her mind mocks derisively. 

“Mom is going to shit bricks.” She murmurs to no one.