The waiting is killing me. It’s the worst form of torture I’ve ever endured.
Andreas is sipping on shitty hospital coffee. He glances at me, then murmurs, “I’m sure she’ll be okay.”
“She better be,” I grumble, the need to take revenge and end Irene warring with my need to stay close to Tess. I just need to talk to the doctor and see Tess, then I’ll deal with Irene.
When a doctor walks into the waiting room, I shoot up from the chair I was sitting in. “How’s my wife?”
He gestures for me to follow him. “We have Mrs. Stathoulis comfortable in a private room. Even though she took a hard blow to the head, it doesn’t look like there’s any brain injury. The wounds will take some time to heal, though, and we’ll only be sure she’s okay once she regains consciousness.”
I’m led into the private room, and seeing Tess between stark white sheets and an IV inserted in the back of her hand, my heart constricts painfully.
Jesus.
As always, the need to touch her overwhelms me. Coming to a stop next to the bed, I lean over Tess and press a tender kiss on her cheek. There’s a bandage around her head, her skin clear of all the blood.
“There were blows to Mrs. Stathoulis’s left side and lower back, but no bones were broken. The bruising will fade, but she might feel tender for a couple of days.”
What?
My eyes flick to the doctor as he comes to stand on the other side of the bed. “Due to the nature of Mrs. Stathoulis’ injuries, we had to call the police.” He looks over the papers in his hands. “The scans showed multiple healed fractures. It looks like there’s a history of abuse.”
“What?” I manage to ask, struggling to process what I’m hearing. “What do you mean… a history?”
“There are healed fractures on her arm and ribs.”
Just then, Helena rushes into the hospital room, and my dark glare falls on her. She comes to a stop near the doctor, glancing between us. “Theè mou, my baby. How’s Theresa? Is she okay?” She looks at her daughter then takes a trembling breath. Pushing past the doctor, she brushes her fingers over Tess’ bandaged forehead. “I can’t believe Irene would do this.”
“She didn’t,” I grind the words out because the last thing I need is the doctor getting the information and him passing it onto the police. When Helena’s lips part, I snap, “Shut up.”
The doctor glances between us, and I turn my attention back to him. “What else?”
“Besides the old fractures and the fresh wounds, Mrs. Stathoulis should make a full recovery with a lot of rest.”
Nodding, I say, “Thank you.” When he hangs around, I add, “You can leave.”
Looking uncomfortable, he starts to walk to the door. “Call the nurses if you need anything.”
As soon as he’s out of the room, Dad comes in.
“Shut the door,” I order, then I look at Helena. “The doctor said there’s a history of abuse. Broken bones.” I struggle to control the rage swamping me. “What the fuck happened to Theresa as a child?”
“N-nothing,” Helena stammers. “She was clumsy and once broke her arm. Another time she fell out of a tree and broke a couple of ribs. But that’s it.”
That’s not it.
The way Tess trembled when Irene was near tells me there’s more to the story. My gut screams at me to get to the bottom of this.
“Could Irene have hurt Tess?”
Helena frowns, clearly confused. “I thought you said it wasn’t her?”
“Did Irene have access to Tess? Was she there when Tess got hurt as a child?” I shout, making Helena flinch. She moves to Dad’s side as if he can protect her from me.
“Yes. We were living with Kostas, my brother-in-law, up until he passed away four years ago.”
My tone drops low, murder coating the words as I hiss, “And not once you thought your daughter was being abused?”
Helena starts to shake her head, her eyes jump between Tess and me, then she begins to pale. “Theè mou… I didn’t know. Theresa never said anything.”
“Because she was probably fucking terrified!”
“Nikolas,” Dad says my name in a way that’s meant to calm me, but I shake my head at him.
What did Theresa endure at the hands of Irene? How old was she? Eight?
“How old was Tess when her father died?”
“Eight,” Helena answers immediately.
She was subjected to that fucking evil bitch from age eight to seventeen.
Christé mou.
My heart.
Sinking down on a chair, I carefully pick up Tess’ hand and press it to my forehead as I focus on breathing.
I was a fucking asshole when we met. I threatened her, and even fucking enjoyed it. I relished in her fear.
Christé mou.
My guilt thickens until it threatens to suffocate me.
Tess’ tears. Her pleading with me to stop. It all becomes crystal clear in my mind.
She’ll never be able to love me, not after everything I did to her.
I fucking capitalized on Tess’ weakness – the fear instilled by Irene.
“Nikolas?” Dad asks.
“Leave me alone with my wife,” I whisper, too consumed with my own guilt and need for revenge to be concerned with them.
The moment they leave and I’m finally alone with Tess, I lift my head, my eyes drifting over her pale face. “I’m so fucking sorry. Will you ever forgive me?”
Her eyes flutter, and when they open, confusion tightens her features, followed by pain. When she looks at me, and I see recognition in her irises, I move to sit on the side of the bed. Gripping her hand to my chest, I use my free one to gently brush over her cheek.
“Hey, baby, you scared the living hell out of me,” I whisper as if speaking too loud might cause her more pain.
Tess’ tongue darts out to wet her lips, then she asks, “Where am I?”
“The hospital.”
“Oh…” Panic flares to life in her eyes. “Oh… right… I lost my balance. It was so stu–”
I shake my head hard, wondering how many times she had to lie while terrified for her life. “You don’t have to lie to me. I know what happened.”
Tess’ eyes widen. “You do?”
“Irene attacked you.” My fingers keep brushing over her cheek. “She’ll pay for hurting you.”
Tess shakes her head, pain flickers over her face, then she sucks in a deep breath, her features crumbling beneath the weight of all the hell she was forced to endure.
Leaning forward, I brace my forearm beside her head and press a kiss to her trembling lips. “It will never happen again, kardiá mou. I promise.”
Tess begins to cry, and whether it’s because of relief or trauma, I’ll never know.
Careful not to hurt her, I wrap my arms around her. I support the back of her head, and when she buries her face against my neck, I hold my wife as she breaks down.
I realize just how strong Tess’ has been to face me, to cope with Irene tormenting her for fucking years.
“I’m so fucking sorry for the times I threatened you,” I whisper, my voice hoarse with regret. “I’m sorry for manhandling you and forcing you to obey me. I didn’t know about the anxiety or the abuse.”
Christ, am I sorry.
“Please forgive me.” I press a kiss to the bandage, the pungent smell of antiseptic fluid filling my nostrils. “If you can’t, I don’t know what I’ll fucking do.”
It takes minutes before Tess calms enough to whisper, “As long as you don’t do it again.”
“Never.” I pull back, carefully setting her head down on the pillow. “I promise.”
Her tongue darts nervously out. “How did you find out?”
“Security footage. I haven’t seen what happened yet.” I still keep a tight grip on her hand, unable to let go of her. “Tell me everything.”
“I was in the restroom…”
I shake my head. “No, Tess. Start at the beginning. When you were eight.”
Her forehead furrows, fresh tears jumping to her eyes. “Irene hated me. I don’t know why. From the moment we moved in with them, she just… hated me. I think some people are just born evil, and she was one of them.”
I wait patiently for her to continue, knowing this can’t be easy for her.
“S-she would slap me, shove me around… and she loved it.”
As Tess opens up about her past, and one horror story after the other spills over her lips, hatred, unlike anything I’ve felt before, fills my chest. My fucking heart breaks, thinking how vulnerable she was, and no one fucking helped her.
As much as I love Tess, I hate Irene.
When I hear voices outside the room, I press a finger to Tess’ lips to silence her. “Don’t say a word about Irene to the police. She’s mine to deal with. Stick with the story that you lost your balance.”
Just as the door opens and two police officers come into the room, Tess nods.
There’s no place for law enforcement when it comes to the mafia. We deal with our own.
Always have. Always will.
