“Terrified.”
“Did he know that?”
The formerly appetizing smell of lunch started to turn my stomach. “Why are you asking me these questions, Megumi?”
She answered by rolling up her sleeve, exposing a wrist so bruised it was nearly black.
7
IT WAS AFTER eight when I let myself into Eva’s apartment and found her sitting with Cary on the living room’s white sectional sofa, holding a glass of red wine in both hands.
My wife gravitated toward modern traditional furnishings, but I could see touches of her mother and roommate in the décor. I didn’t resent those pieces of Monica and Cary, but I looked forward to the day when I shared a home with Eva that reflected us, undiluted.
Still, the apartment would always be a special place to me. I would never forget the way Eva had looked the first time I’d come over. Naked beneath a thigh-length silk robe, her face made up for the night ahead, a diamond anklet winking at me. Teasing me.
I had lost all rational thought. I’d put my mouth on her, my hands all over her, and my fingers and tongue inside her. I hadn’t even thought about getting her to the “fuck pad.” I wouldn’t have been able to wait, even if I had. She wasn’t like any woman who’d come before her. Not just because of who she was, but also because of who I was when I was with her.
It was unlikely I would ever allow the property management to lease the space out again. It held too many memories, both good and bad.
I tipped my chin at Cary in greeting and sat beside Eva. My wife’s best friend was dressed to go out, while Eva wore a Cross Industries T-shirt and had her hair twisted up in a clip. They both glanced at me, and I knew something was wrong.
There were things to discuss, but whatever was troubling Eva was the pressing priority.
Cary stood. “I’m heading out. Call me if you need me.”
She nodded. “Have fun.”
“My middle name, baby girl.”
The front door shut behind him as Eva’s head fell gently against my shoulder. Sliding my arm around her, I settled deeper into the sofa and tucked her closer. “Talk to me, angel.”
“It’s Megumi.” She sighed. “There’s this guy she was into and things weren’t working out—he was hot-and-cold and couldn’t commit—so she broke it off. But afterward, he stepped it up and she let him come over. They started messing around with a little bondage, but things got out of hand in a bad way.”
The mention of bondage put me on alert. I ran my hand down her back and tucked her tighter against me. I was nothing if not patient in aligning my desires with her fears. Setbacks were expected and accommodated, but I didn’t want someone else’s misadventures to create new hurdles for Eva and me to face.
“Sounds like bad judgment all around,” I said. “One of them should’ve known what they were doing.”
“That’s the thing.” She pulled away and faced me. “I went over it with Megumi. She said no—a lot—until he gagged her. He got off on her pain, Gideon. And now he’s terrorizing her with texts and photos he took of her that night. She’s asked him to stop, but he won’t. He’s sick. Something’s wrong with him.”
I weighed how best to respond. I went with blunt. “Eva. She broke it off, and then took him back. He might not realize she’s serious this time.”
She recoiled, then slid off the couch in a rush of curvy, golden legs. “Don’t make excuses for him! She’s bruised everywhere. It’s been a week and the bruises are still dark. She couldn’t sit down for days!”
“I’m not excusing him.” I stood with her. “I would never justify an abuser—you know that. I don’t have the whole story, but I know your story. Her situation isn’t like yours. Nathan was an aberration.”
“I’m not projecting here, Gideon. I saw the pictures. I saw her wrists, her neck. I saw his texts. He’s crossed a line. He’s dangerous.”