Beat of the Heart (27 page)

strongest women I’ve ever known—one who taught me not to take any shit from men.” A smile tugged

at Mia’s lips. “Trust me, when you’re surrounded by Italian men, that’s no easy feat.”

“I think they’re kinda as pig headed as Hispanic men, right?”

“You could say that,” she replied. She stooped down to gather up a few pebbles along the bank.

“Regardless of those two factors, there has to be some reason I completely lost my mind for eighteen

months, right?”

I shrugged. “I don’t think you need to blame yourself. Shit happens.”

“I wish it was as easy as that.” Mia chucked one of the pebbles into the stream, sending ripples

along the surface. “His name is Jason. He was the second real boyfriend I ever had—the first guy I

really loved….or thought I did. At first, I thought him being possessive was sweet, even sexy. He

called me constantly during the day to see what I was doing, he referred to me as
his
, and he wanted

to spend every waking minute with me.”

Mia threw another rock into the creek, casting greater waves across the water. “But then as the

months went by and we got even more serious, things changed. At first, the abuse was just emotional.

All the bullshit I have about my body—that all came from him. He was able to make me feel that

because of my thicker body, I was totally undesirable to any other man and that I was lucky he stayed

with me at all.” Mia shook her head. “But then when guys would give me attention, I was too fucking

stupid to realize it or that I could have someone else—someone better. Then the guys’ attention would

piss Jason off. If one dared so much as looked in my direction, he would freak out and threaten to kick

his ass. Then he’d accuse me of flirting or dressing like a slut. Whenever I argued with him or tried to

defend myself, that’s when he got violent.”

As she bent over to pick up a few more pebbles, I swallowed hard, my fists clenching at my side.

My heartbeat drummed in my ears at the thought of any man laying a hand on Mia. I shifted

uncomfortably back and forth on my feet, desperately wanting an outlet for the rising anger I felt

thrumming in my blood. “What kinda shit did he pull?” I asked in a hoarse voice.

A sigh wheezed from her chest. “At first, he would cuff the back of my head hard or shove me into

walls or furniture. After a few months when I still didn’t break to his commands, he resorted to

backhanding me.”

The world tilted and spun around me at the image that formed in my head. At the same time, I fought

to catch my breath as her words had the same effect as if someone were wrenching my beating heart

from my chest. “Motherfucker,” I hissed.

Mia threw her head back and met my gaze. “I never, ever dreamed I’d become one of
those
women

—the cowering beaten and bruised creatures I’d see on TV or in movies. And it goes without saying

with Italian tempers, there were a few in my extended family who were always so damn klutzy by

running into walls or falling down the stairs.” Gritting her teeth, Mia threw the next stone so hard it

hit the rocks across the bank. “But that became me.”

“What did Duke say?”

“He didn’t know,” she murmured softly.

“But how?”

“The more violent Jason became, the more I started to retreat from my family. I was finishing up

nursing school then, busy with my clinicals, so it was easy to lie.” With her hands empty of stones,

Mia crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself. “But then it all fell apart around the time my

cousin, Nicki, was getting married. She was like a sister to me, and as the maid of honor, I was

spending a lot of time with her, which pissed Jason off. I wasn’t supposed to be with anyone but him.

One day we were out shopping together for wedding stuff before I had to go into work. Jason kept

calling me constantly, and I could tell it was pissing Nicki off. She’s the kind of girl who would

answer my phone and tell Jason to go fuck himself.”

“Sounds like my kind of girl.”

Mia gave me a small smile. “Finally, I just turned my phone off. I was working nights, so I had to

go by the house to change for my shift. Jason was waiting for me when I got home.” Mia shivered

violently, and I fought the urge to wrap my arms around her. “In the foyer, we had this giant, round

mirror. I’d barely gotten through the front door when he came at me. I’d never seen him so enraged.

Of course, he reeked of alcohol, so I don’t know why I was so surprised. The next thing I knew he had

grabbed the nape of my neck and shoved me with all his might into the mirror.” Mia turned to me and

pulled back some of her hair on the right side of her face. I’d never noticed it before, but in her

hairline, there was a faint scar running from her temple, down to her ear. “My head crashed against

the mirror so hard, it cracked the glass. Jason kept ramming me into it until shards fell to the floor.”

As she relived the horrific memories, her chest began to rise and fall with her heaving breaths.

Tentatively, I reached out to touch her shoulder. “You don’t have to do this.”

“No, I need to—not just for me, but for you. When it’s all said and done, you need to know

everything—to understand why I am the way I am with men.” Tears pooled in her eyes. “More than

anything, I trust you enough to be honest with you, AJ.”

My heart ached for her. “I’m here, amorcito mio.”

She drew in a ragged breath. “Do you remember that night when you asked me about the tattoo?”

I bobbed my head.

“You asked if I’d gotten it to cover the scars left by an accident. Well, that’s partly true.”

“What do you mean?”

Mia closed her eyes, letting tears trickle down her cheeks. “After the mirror shattered, Jason

picked up one of the broken shards. He first brought it to my neck—told me if I ever didn’t call him

again, he would kill me. Then he said he wanted to leave me something physical to remind me of my

mistake. It was summer, and I was wearing a tank top with spaghetti straps, which he said made me

look like a whore.” Opening her eyes, Mia stared out at the water. “He said he was going to cut me

for every time he called me, and I ignored him.” She glanced over at me. “That’s where the five lines

came from.”

Rage burned through me, causing me to shudder from head to toe. My fists clenched involuntarily.

“Give me his name. That’s all I need. Not an address or a phone number. Just his name,” I demanded.

“AJ,” Mia protested.

“I mean it. I don’t think I can rest until I track down that low-life piece of shit and take a piece out

of his worthless hide for every time he hurt you.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“Yes, I—”

Mia held her up hand. “AJ, trust me when I say this. Jason got what was coming to him.”

“What do you mean?”

She gave me a tight smile. “I’m Sicilian, remember? After my dad calmed down enough to speak

and think somewhat coherently, he called some of his buddies from his old neighborhood back in

Jersey.”

“You’re telling me that they made Jason an offer he couldn’t refuse?”

“To the tune of beating him so badly he was hospitalized in a full body cast.”

“Good for your dad. Of course, I would have preferred they render him dickless as well.”

Mia chuckled. “Don’t think Daddy didn’t contemplate having his associates take care of that.”

“Hell, I admired him before, but now I admire him even more.”

“Yeah, well, nobody hurts his little girl.”

“I’ll remember to never piss off your dad, because I sure as hell don’t want to end up sleeping with

the fishes.”

Mia’s expression lightened, and I could tell she was fighting hard not to smile. “For you, being

dickless would be a fate worse than death.”

Wincing, I cupped my crotch. “I gotta agree with you on that one.”

This time she did smile, and I was so fucking glad to see her smiling again. It was timid—one I had

never seen on her face before. Normally, she is so confident, strong. I closed the gap between us.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through all that shit.”

“Thank you. But I’m the one who should be sorry.”

“Why?” I demanded.

“Because my past keeps fucking things up for us. I mean, I just had a major freak-out back there

when you were only teasing me. As hard as I try, I can’t seem to put what happened with Jason or

Dev to rest.” She gave me a sad smile. “You’re too good for all my bullshit, AJ.”

It took me a second to process her words. Why in the hell did she think I was too good for her? If

anyone wasn’t good enough, it was me—the goofy drummer who had never had to go through any

harsh shit. “Don’t apologize for shit you can’t help. And you’re wrong, about not being good enough.

You and me…? We’re good for each other.” Cupping her face in my hands, I leaned in and kissed her

gently. “I think you’re so fucking brave to have lived through what you did.”

Her brows shot up in surprise. “You really think I’m brave?”

“Hell yes, I do. I mean, you finally left that fucker.”

“Yeah, but even after that awful night, it took someone who I respect very much for me to finally

see the light.”

“Who was it?”

“Pesh—the doctor who I did my clinical placements under. He’d suspected I was being abused for

a while, kept trying to get me to talk to my family or leave Jason, but I wouldn’t. That night, I was a

mess when I went into work—physically and emotionally. He was the one who stitched me up. Then,

he called someone to cover for us. Even though I begged and pleaded for him not to do it, he drove

me straight to the restaurant. He stood beside me and held my hand while I told my dad everything

from start to finish. I moved in with my dad until Jason was taken care of. I’ve never heard or seen

him since.” She shook her head. “Besides the support of my family, Pesh was there through it all. He

even threatened to flunk my evaluations if I even thought of ever going back to Jason.”

“Sounds like a stand-up guy to me.”

A dreamy expression filled her face. “He really is.”

An uneasy feeling came over at me at the way she was talking about this doctor. I couldn’t help the

jealousy that pinged over me that she might still be hot for this dude or worse she was somehow in

love for him. Shifting on my feet, I asked the question I really didn’t want to. “So were you and this

Pesh guy together or something?”

Mia’s eyes widened. “Oh, God no. Besides the fact he was married, we didn’t feel that way about

each other. I mean, I love him—as a mentor and a friend, but not in a romantic way.”

My relief whooshed out of me in a long, exaggerated sigh. “I see.”

“Of course I can’t say the same for his brother.” When I furrowed my brows in confusion, Mia

replied, “It was two years after I left Jason that Pesh introduced me to his younger brother, Dev, my

ex-fiancé.”

I growled. “There’s another asshole I’d like to rip apart.”

Mia laughed. “Trust me, most of the men in my life would like to do that—including Dee. Even

though Pesh is a peacemaker, I think he’d probably join in too. He was pretty livid at what his brother

did, especially after what I’d been through with Jason.”

We fell into an awkward silence then. The atmosphere around us felt laden down with the

admission of Mia’s abuse. I could tell she was still reeling—both pain and embarrassment radiated in

her eyes, even though she tried to hide it. But I felt utterly and completely helpless at what to do to

help her.

Finally, Mia cleared her throat. “I guess we better get back before they send out a search party,

huh?”

Seeing the opportunity to lighten the mood, I grinned. “I’m pretty sure they know what we’re doing

out here—or what we were doing.”

She made a face. “Fabulous.”

“Come on,” I said, holding out my hand. We made our way up the riverbank in silence. Although I

wasn’t saying anything, my mind was whirling with what I thought I should say or do to ease Mia’s

pain. When we got to the four-wheeler, I handed her back the keys. “You drive.”

“I don’t want this out of pity, AJ,” she countered.

Damn, just when I thought she couldn’t get any more stubborn, she did. “Oh Christ, that’s not it at

all. Okay?”

She eyed me, and the keys, for a few seconds before she snatched them out of my hand. After she

sat on the seat, I slid in behind her. She cranked up as I wrapped my arms around her waist. Peeking

at me over her shoulder, she grinned. “Watch it with the happy hands.”

“You mean like this?” I asked, as I reached up to cup her breast with one hand while the other

slipped between her legs. She squealed and slapped at my hands. I chuckled and then brought them

behind me to rest on the back bar. “Better?”

She grinned. “Yes. But if it gets bumpy, I’d rather you hold on to me than fall off.”

“I’d rather hold on to you, period.”

“Then behave and you can.”

“Yes ma’am,” I replied, bringing my hands back to wrap around her waist. I nestled my head into

the crook of her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her damp hair. As we started jostling over the