Shawn

My phone sat idle in my hands for a moment before I put it on speaker and pressed play. My chest tightened as I listened.

"Shawn," she whispered. "Shawn, please call me back. Respond with a text—anything. I need you. Please come get me before he—"

The line went silent for a moment. All I could hear was her unsteady breathing. Then came loud banging, like a door being kicked over and over, followed by a crash. After that, her cries—screaming, begging him to stop.

The message had been left fifteen minutes ago.

"Fuck!" I yelled, throwing on whatever clothes I could find. I didn't even bother with shoes before I was out the door and in my car.

It's a miracle I didn't get pulled over. I drove a hundred miles an hour the entire way. The house lights were on, and the front door was slightly open. I pushed it with my foot and stepped inside carefully.

The living room was trashed—glass from broken lamps scattered across the floor. I kicked something and knelt to pick it up.

Janet's purse.

My heart hammered as I glanced upstairs and moved quietly up the staircase in my socks. There was a door open at the end of the hallway. René was passed out on the bed.

I scanned the room. She wasn't there.

Where are you, baby?

I checked the closets, then noticed the bathroom door—nearly ripped off its frame. I pushed it open.

Janet was curled up on the bathroom floor.

The sight dropped me to my knees. "Oh, babe... I'm so sorry."

She lifted her head at the sound of my voice, her eyes swollen from crying. I pulled her into my arms, holding her tight and rocking her gently.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here," I whispered. "I should've been. I'll never let him hurt you again—I swear."

"Can you help me stand?" she asked softly, wrapping an arm around my neck.

I carefully helped her up, and that's when I noticed the blood on her thighs and dress.

"You're hurt," I said urgently. "We need to get you to the hospital—now."

"No," she said quickly. "I can't go to a hospital, Shawn. It'll be all over the news by morning. And... most of it isn't mine. He cut himself when he kicked the door in."

She grabbed her ribs, steadying herself as she walked toward the door. The fear in her eyes as she passed him lit a fire in me.

I found myself standing over René, my breathing heavy. His shirt was ripped, scratches covering his arms and face. Blood stained his left arm and leg as he lay sprawled out in his boxers.

"Shawn, let's go," Janet whispered from behind me.

I shook my head. "No, J. I want to hurt him the way he hurt you."

I drew my fist back—but she grabbed me, resting her forehead against mine. I closed my eyes, focusing on her voice, forcing myself to calm down.

"Please," she cried softly. "Just take me home."

I picked her up and carried her to my car. The way she gripped her side told me something was wrong. I buckled her in carefully. She slept through most of the drive.

⸻

Shawn's Apartment

I sat Janet gently on my bed, grabbed towels and my robe, and started a hot bath. When it was ready, I peeked out of the bathroom.

"The bath's ready."

She didn't respond. She sat on the edge of my bed, staring down at her hands. I walked over and knelt in front of her.

"Hey."

She finally looked at me.

"There's a hot bath waiting for you," I said softly.

"Thank you," she whispered, wiping at her eyes.

I helped her to her feet and walked her to the bathroom.

"Call me if you need anything," I said. "I'm right here."

Janet

I swallowed, my fingers curling against the smooth porcelain of the tub.

"René," I said quietly. Just his name felt heavy. "He wasn't... he wasn't always like this. Or maybe he was, and I just didn't want to see it."

Shawn didn't interrupt. She didn't rush me. She just stayed where she was, close enough that I could feel her warmth without feeling crowded.

"It started small," I continued. "Comments. Control. Making me feel like I was lucky he wanted me at all. And then one day it wasn't words anymore." I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling, blinking hard. "Every time I thought it was the last time, he'd apologize. Cry. Swear he'd change."

Shawn's jaw tightened. Her hands curled into fists at her sides, but her voice stayed steady. "None of this is your fault."

I let out a shaky breath. "I know that in my head. My body just hasn't caught up yet."

She shifted then, slowly, deliberately, so she was facing me but still looking at my face, not my injuries. "You don't have to be strong here," she said. "You don't have to explain anything perfectly. You're safe. I've got you."

Something in my chest cracked open at that.

"I didn't think I'd make it out," I admitted. "And now that I did, I don't know how to exist without bracing for the next hit."

Shawn reached out, stopping just short of touching me, giving me the choice. When I nodded, she rested her hand over mine, gentle as if I might shatter.

"Then we'll figure it out together," she said. "One breath at a time. One day at a time."

The water had gone lukewarm, but for the first time in a long while, I wasn't cold.