Chapter 8 - Bonnie's Revenge
2581 Words
Megan POV
TRIGGER WARNING: If reading about physical abuse is difficult for you. Please do not proceed with this chapter.
The day went even better than expected. Two hours after her failed attempt to have the new dishwasher removed, Bonnie claimed she had a migraine and left for the day. Everyone’s mood lifted considerably, adding a spring to their step and a smile to their face. Even the customers’ attitudes had improved, and for the servers, that meant that the tips were more generous. The restaurant’s whole ambiance was lighter and friendlier, giving us all a glimpse of what was to come after the terms of the will were met.
“See you tomorrow, Tommy,” I told the chef as I carted in the last tub of dirties and started loading them into the dishwasher.
“Goodnight, Megan,” he answered and started to push through the door just as Emma was coming in.
She giggled. “Sorry, Tommy. Goodnight.” He mumbled his response as he continued through the door. “Bathrooms are clean, Meg. Bonnie’s going to have to order toilet paper and paper towels. We’re down to half a case each.”
“Leave her a note on the desk. There’s a better chance she’ll place the order if the request comes from anyone other than me,” I reminded her.
Emma shook her head as she frowned. “I don’t understand that woman at all. I can’t imagine treating my Ruby the way she treats you.”
I turned on the dishwasher and set the empty tub aside. “That’s because you’re a mother. Bonnie isn’t. My father was the one who wanted to be a parent, not her.”
“It’s still sad,” Emma said, then shrugged. “Is there anything else you need me to do before I leave?”
“No, I can manage the floors. You go home to your family,” I said, walking over to the storage closet and pulling out the vacuum.
“Okay. Goodnight, boss.”
“Goodnight, Emma.”
Dragging the vacuum behind me, I followed Emma out. After bidding her a final goodnight, I locked the door and glanced at the clock on the wall. I had an hour and a half before Adam arrived. Plenty of time to finish closing procedures, then get upstairs and change. The vacuuming of the dining room was the most time-consuming because I had to pull tables out to get under the legs. My father didn’t believe in doing things halfway, and neither did I. Just because you couldn’t see the crumbs didn’t mean they weren’t there or that they weren’t a potential magnet for the kind of pest problems that got restaurants shut down. Bonnie had tried to discourage the practice by saying we were spending too much on overtime for something that was—to her mind—unnecessary. So, I started seeing to the task myself. There was nothing she could do to stop me from staying late, and I did most every night that I closed.
I was nearly finished mopping the kitchen when the swinging door opened, admitting my very pissed-off mother. Every hair on my body stood up as she approached. Trying to appear calm, I braced the mop on the floor, leaning against the handle.
“Headache gone?” I asked, not really giving a s**t.
She remained silent until she was inches from my face. “I have had it with you embarrassing me in front of the employees. I am sick of that f*****g, smart-assed mouth. You will start showing me some damned respect, or I will make you regret it.”
“What’s one more regret?” I asked, straightening and continuing to mop.
I should have expected it. The back of her hand glanced off my cheek, leaving it stinging, and sent the mop to the floor. My eyes stung, but I didn’t cry. I faced my infuriated mother as if I’d felt nothing while my body trembled, anticipating the next blow. She slapped me again so that both sides of my face stung, then grabbed me by the front of my shirt, jerking me forward.
“Why don’t you react? You stupid b***h! Do you enjoy this?” she screamed in my face as she shook me.
My leg connected with the mop bucket, my toe tangled in the wheel and upended it, sending a rush of soapy water over the tile floor. Bonnie continued to shake me, slap me, and scream, calling me names and claiming that I owed her. What I owed her? She never said, but I had started to zone out and could have missed it for all I knew. When she let go and turned away, I took a giant step back, thinking she was finished.
“I don’t react because you will waste no time pressing charges if I do. I won’t lose my restaurant over a moments’ satisfaction from hitting you back,” I said quietly and awaited another blow.
She didn’t hit me this time. Instead, she spun around and shoved me as hard as she could, sending me stumbling backward. I lost my footing on the water and soap-covered tile, and crashed to the floor, landing on my elbow. The force of the impact coupled with the slick surface sent me sliding across the tile headfirst into the concrete block wall. I lay there unmoving for several seconds, then I shifted my body so I could see Bonnie. She stood in the middle of the kitchen, glaring at me and seething. I expected her to come at me again, and I braced for it as best I could while still lying on the floor. Instead, she said, “This restaurant is mine. I earned it, not you, so you may as well give up because you’re going to lose it anyway,” and stormed out.
I was hurt. Really hurt. After Bonnie left, I tried to sit up, but I couldn’t put any pressure on my left arm, and my head spun. I needed help. Though it pained me to do it, I had no other choice. Adam was already on his way to the restaurant if he wasn’t there already. With my right hand, I fished my phone out of my back pocket and prayed the water hadn’t damaged it. Since I only had one usable hand, I found his number in my contacts and called him.
“Meg. Hey, where are you? I’m outside your door,” he said when he answered.
“I’m downstairs. Adam… I need help.”
He didn’t say a word. The call ended, and within seconds he was flying through the open kitchen door, carrying a pizza in one hand and shoving his phone back in his pocket with the other. When he saw me, he tossed the pizza box on the prep table and dropped to his knees in front of me, heedless of the water covering the floor. Gently, he cupped my head and lifted it slightly. His fingers lightly probed my scalp. At the back of my head, they grazed over something that sent a lance of pain shooting to my toes. I hissed, and he carefully pulled his hands away.
“Baby, you’re bleeding,” he said as his brows furrowed deeper with concern.
My vision grayed, and I closed my eyes, hoping that I wouldn’t pass out. “Could you help me up? I think I broke my arm.”
“I don’t think I should move you at all. You may have a concussion. Let me call an ambulance,” he said, reaching for his phone.
“No, please. I’m fine. Just help me sit up.”
His objection was written all over his face, but he did it anyway, and I instantly regretted asking. The room started spinning the minute I moved my head, and I ended up emptying my stomach all over the floor in front of him. I was so embarrassed I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut.
“I’m calling an ambulance,” Adam insisted, pushing to his feet as he dialed his phone.
I didn’t even have time to object. Within the span of a few seconds, he was speaking to a dispatcher, giving them the information they needed to pass to the EMTs that were already en route.
Adam POV
Though it was evident that she was in pain, Megan worried over the kitchen's condition, making it nearly impossible for the EMTs to assess her. When the older lady with her dark hair secured in a tight bun looked at me for help, I crouched down next to her.
Cupping her chin lightly, I lifted it gently to bring her eyes to mine and offered her a small smile of reassurance. “Meg, I will take care of the kitchen after you leave, then I will meet you at the hospital, okay?”
She started to nod, then groaned and closed her eyes. Releasing her, I nodded to the woman taking her vitals, and walked away to pick up the empty bucket lying on its side in front of the cooktop. I filled the bucket in the sink and listened while Megan explained how she fell. Either she was the most careless person on the planet, or she was lying. Who would run across a wet floor just to retrieve their phone? That didn’t make any sense.
She’s lying.
Aiden growled.
I know.
Make her tell the truth.
I can’t, Aiden. It’s still too fragile. We could lose her.
“Sir, we’re ready to take her now,” the EMT said, effectively ending my conversation with my wolf.
I set the bucket on the floor and walked over to the gurney they’d transferred her to. It took a great deal of effort on my part to refrain from kissing her. I wasn’t sure how she would react to it, and I didn’t want to put her under any unnecessary stress just to assuage my own worry. So, I satisfied myself by touching my lips lightly to her brow, then replacing them with my own.
“I’m right behind you,” I said and eased back, brushing a finger over her chin.
“Wait…” she said as they started to wheel her out. She reached out her hand to me. My heart flipped in my chest as I took it. “My keys… they are in my purse under the register.”
Squeezing her hand, I grinned. “Yeah, I’m going to need those, aren’t I.”
She grinned back. “A little bit.”
Hope filled me as I watched her taken from the restaurant.
***
It had taken me twenty minutes to clean up the kitchen floor, lock up the restaurant and dispose of the cold pizza, then another twenty to get to the emergency room. My chest swelled again when upon identifying myself, I was immediately escorted to Megan’s exam room. I had been almost sure she’d decided that she didn’t want me with her. She was asleep when I stepped into the room, and I was told by the nurse recording her vitals that they’d given her some medication for the pain.
“How is she?” I asked the nurse.
“They’re waiting on some tests to come back, then the doctor will be in,” she said as diplomatically as possible.
I nodded as I rolled the stool to Megan’s bedside and sat down. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I noted the time was 1 a.m. and prepared myself for being cursed out as I dialed Seth’s number.
“What’s wrong?” Seth’s groggy voice came on the line after the second ring. He didn’t sound pissed. He sounded worried. That definitely worked in my favor.
“Megan had an accident. I’m at the emergency room with her,” I said and slipped her hand into mine.
“Oh, s**t, man, is she okay?” There were murmurs in the background revealing that either Natasha or Harmony or both had awakened.
I linked my fingers with Megan’s and lightly rubbed the side of her hand with my thumb. “I think so, but I’m not sure. We’re waiting to see the doctor.” Sighing, I leaned down and touched my lips to the back of her hand. “I’m sorry to wake you up, dude. I just didn’t want anyone to worry if I don’t make it back home tonight.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it. Take care of your mate. Just keep us updated.”
“If she lets me.”
“Nothing good is ever easy, and there’s nothing better than having a mate. Remember that and try to be patient,” he said. Even awakened from a sound sleep, the guy was the voice of reason.
“Thanks. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
After disconnecting the call, I set my phone aside and clung tighter to Megan’s uninjured hand. Aside from that Sunday afternoon when I’d kept her sitting on the bar so I could talk to her, it was the most contact I’d had with her since I found her. I wanted to enjoy it while it lasted. Who knew when I’d be given another opportunity? My mate was a complicated puzzle. Even without her telling me, I knew she had a painful past with men. The wariness that always seemed present in her eyes was a clear sign. The attitude she presented when we first met was another. I wish I knew what that man or those men did to make her so afraid of letting me in. Then I would know what I needed to do to prove that she could trust me not to hurt her. If only she would talk to me.
“Adam?”
My head came up at the sound of Megan’s drug-heavy voice. “Hey, you. How are you feeling?”
“Like my head is a giant cotton ball, and my arm is lead.” She squeezed my hand, and I mentally pumped my fist. “Thank you for coming with me.”
I stood up and leaned over, again tempted to kiss her, but I held back. She wasn’t ready. Instead, I brushed her hair back from her face and looked into those heavy-lidded blue eyes. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
Slowly, she shifted her head and attempted to meet my gaze just as steadily. “Really?”
“Really.”
- Writer
