I unlatched the chain on the door and rushed into the hallway—not caring about how I looked.

“Stand back, Kristen.” Kurt yelled. “We’re not going to let him hurt you. We’re here to protect you.” Kurt pushed Marty down onto the ground and Bernie jumped on top of Marty’s back to hold him still with his weight.

“W-what?” I stammered. I had no idea what was going on. It was all happening too fast.

“Kristen, I wasn’t going to hurt you!” Marty shouted from his face-down position pinned beneath Bernie.

“He wasn’t going to do anything,” I cried.

“It’s our job—” Kurt tightened Marty’s arm behind his back, making him yelp. “To protect you.”

I shook my head in disbelief, frantically trying to grasp the situation. “I don’t understand.”

“Please. Get back inside the apartment Ms. Daley,” said Bernie whose nose and mouth were bleeding from Marty’s kick.

“Why? How did you know my last name?”

I was about to ask more questions when I heard footsteps bounding up the stairwell. Had somebody in one of the other apartments heard the commotion and reported it? Was it the police?

An imposing figure in elegant dress clothes appeared at the top of the stairs. His breathing was fast and his dark eyes were fierce.

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Vincent. He looked as if he had come straight from the restaurant where I left him.

Noticing me along with the commotion nearby, a grave look swept over his features. He dashed down the hallway toward us, his black loafers thumping like hooves against the dingy carpet.

“Vincent!” I cried. I was surprised by the relief I felt at seeing him.

Vincent stopped in front of us, his face marred with concern. He gently gripped my shoulders. “Kristen, are you all right? Are you hurt in any way?” His usual composure in dangerous situations was gone.

“I-I’m fine, Vincent. But it’s crazy. There’s a fight . . . I don’t know what to do. I’m scared.” Everything was happening so fast, I couldn’t form the proper words to explain. Even if I could, he wouldn’t believe me. How could I explain that Marty had shown up unexpectedly with flowers and then my seriously muscular neighbor who likes Lady Gaga tackled him thinking he was going to hurt me? Even I’d have trouble believing me.

I was glad Vincent was here now though. Once again, I became aware of how Vincent made me feel safe. He’d put an end to this drama.

Vincent turned his gaze to Marty being held on the ground. Marty was still struggling, cursing. Vincent’s jaw became tight and his eyes a blazing inferno. “You think you can use fear to control her? I’ll show you fear.” Vincent clenched his hands. “Bring him to his knees,” he said.

Kurt and Bernie brought Marty up to his knees while continuing to restrain him. Marty tried to resist but Kurt tightened the hold on his arm. As Vincent stood in front of Marty kneeling, I could tell that they had similar heights and builds. They glared at each other fiercely like two wild lions ready to fight over a female. The similarity between them was jarring.

“What are you doing Vincent?” I cried. Vincent ignored me. His focus was solely on Marty.

“You son of a bitch.” Vincent pulled his arm back and swung, landing a clean blow across Marty’s cheek. Marty’s glasses flew off his head and slammed against the nearby wall. I thought I heard somebody’s bone crack. I wasn’t sure if it was Marty’s jaw or Vincent’s knuckle.

“What are you doing?” I screamed.

“Why’d you hit me you piece of shit? I’ll fucking kill you,” Marty yelled.

“You think you’re tough beating up women?” Vincent snarled.

He took another swing with his other hand, landing a blow on Marty’s other cheek.

“You just want to control her. You have no right.”

“Fuck you. You don’t know shit about me!” Marty cried.

Then Vincent began kicking him in the stomach.

“Go to hell,” Marty panted in between blows.

“You don’t care about her. You never did.”

I’d never seen this side of Vincent before. He punched Marty again and again as if possessed. I watched in horror as a realization swept over me: Marty was going to die.

I leaped in front of Vincent to shield Marty. Vincent pulled his punch back as I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face into his chest.

“Stop Vincent! Please, god. Stop. You’re going to kill him!”

His body tensed. His arm raised up to strike. I closed my eyes and prepared myself for the worst. Then suddenly I felt his body relax. Vincent’s arm slowly came down to his side.

“You come anywhere near Kristen again and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“You want us to take him away, boss?” Kurt asked.

Boss? Why did Kurt just call him boss? How did he know Vincent?

“Wait.” Vincent gently gripped my waist and moved me to the side. He stepped toward Marty and grabbed him by the hair lifting his head to stare into his eyes. “Tell me you understand.”

Marty gurgled something incomprehensible, his eyes half-dazed.

“Nod your head if you understand.”

Vincent released his grip on Marty’s head and Marty nodded faintly.

“Take care of him,” Vincent said to Kurt.

Kurt nodded and stooped to pick up Marty’s glasses. He and Bernie dragged Marty off by the arms toward the stairwell. Marty put up no resistance this time, his feet dragging along ground.

I couldn’t believe what Vincent just said. Were they going to murder Marty in cold blood? Frantically, I asked, “You’re not going to kill him are you?”

Vincent looked at me intensely; his brows narrowed into sharp lines frightened me. “Of course not. That was never going to happen. They’ll patch him up and send him away, and then I’ll have them keep an eye on him to make sure he never comes back. Kurt and Bernie are pros. You’re safe now.”

“You almost killed him! What the fuck is wrong with you?” I began to pound on his chest with my hands, tears forming in my eyes.

He gripped my arms firmly and stared deep into my eyes. The blazing inferno from earlier was gone, replaced by an equally fierce tenderness. “I needed to make sure he wasn’t going to hurt you again.”

“But—”

“Look, let’s go inside before the neighbors call the police. I’ll explain everything.”

I was still shaking when Vincent put his arm around my shoulders. He ushered me inside, stepping on blue petals in the process.

I entered my apartment with Vincent’s warm arm around my shoulder. My eyes stung with tears. Thoughts raced through my mind in a swirl. I was flooded with questions.

He gestured to the couch to have a seat but I turned to him as soon as he closed the door behind us. “What the fuck was that Vincent?” I spat. “Why were my neighbors going badass commando on Marty?”

His calm facade had returned and he reached out to wipe the tears from my cheek. “They were the security team I hired to keep an eye on you.”

My world spun. I could feel the blood draining from my face. I no longer knew what was real and what wasn’t. “You hired a security team?”

“Yes, to watch over you. To keep you safe.”

The neutral tone of his response infuriated me. “What the hell? I thought you were half-joking about that.”

His expression became unexpectedly dark. “I’d never joke about something like that.”

“We talked about this. I told you I didn’t want one and you agreed to that. That’s why we went to Grandpa Rambo’s store on the outskirts of town for mace. You didn’t listen to me. You lied to me.”

He grimaced. “I did it because I care about you Kristen. It was for your own protection.”

“My protection? God. What’s wrong with you? This isn’t the wild west, Vincent. Seriously, you almost killed a man today.”

His mouth was a thin line. “Maybe he deserved it.”

“Jesus, I feel like I don’t even know you. One minute you’re nice and charming, the next you’re a violent psychopath. You and your security team beat up a single man like some kind of goon squad. I was expecting the couple across the hall to maybe ask for a cup of sugar every now and then, not turn out to be fucking mercenaries.”

His features twisted in pain. “Please, Kristen. I’m sorry. I did lie to you but please understand I had to ensure your safety.”

“Keeping me safe is one thing. wailing on Marty like some kind of mobster is another. That crossed a ton of lines. Why didn’t you break his legs with a baseball bat while you were at it? Or better yet, cut off one of his fingers. How do I know that’s not what’s happening right now?”

“I know it seems extreme but believe me, it was necessary. I’ve seen guys like him before. I know they don’t give up easily. I wouldn’t have gone that far if I didn’t think it was necessary.”

I put my hands on my hips. “You’ve seen guys like him before? Where? Some TV show?”

Vincent sighed deeply. “My sister Giselle had an abusive boyfriend. That’s how I know.”

I grunted in frustration. He was dropping bomb after bomb on me, destroying pieces of reality I thought I had a hold on. “Okay. Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“I didn’t feel comfortable talking about it. And I didn’t know if I could trust you before.”

“Trust me?” I threw my hands up. “I told you secrets about myself I hadn’t told anyone and you were holding back on me. What better time were you going to get to tell me than that night in your apartment when I spilled to you about Marty? But no, you didn’t trust me, even after I took such a risk by trusting you, Vincent. How is that supposed to make me feel?”

“I was focused on your problem, Kristen. I wanted to keep it about you.”

“Showing me you understood would have been about me, Vincent. Holding out on me while you made plans about my privacy is about you.”




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