Chapter 2 Anna

Anna's POV

Several Days Later

"WE DID THE BEST WE COULD WITH THE BLOODSTAINS, BUT WE COULDN'T GET IT ALL

OUT,"

The woman at the dry cleaners says while holding out Mitch's shirt. My insides quiver. "Are you sure there isn't anything else you can do? The woman shakes her head. "I'm sorry, but we tried it all. That will be forty-two eighty-three." I stare at the faded, reddish-brown stains. It's his favorite shirt. He's going to be so angry. Why did I pack it? We should have stayed home. This wouldn't have happened if we didn't go. I knew something terrible was going to happen before we left. I could feel it. My good friends, Jamison and Quinn, got married. Mitch and I flew to Chicago, but he didn't want to go. Like all my family events, I had to convince him. I shouldn't have. The last time my brother, Chase, and Mitch were in the same room, they almost got into a fist fight. I worried about it and even told my best friend, Harper, to help keep my brother away from Mitch. The entire weekend was a disaster, starting from the first night when Mitch left me in the bedroom, waiting for him in lingerie. After so many hours, I put on clothes to look for him and found him in the hotel bar. A waitress was on his lap, doing shots with him. It's not the first time I've caught him doing inappropriate things with other women, but like always, he claimed it was innocent fun. The next day, Mitch woke up with a chip on his shoulder. He wasn't happy we were in Chicago. We only lasted about fifteen minutes into the reception before Quinn's brother, Steven, and Mitch got into a physical fight. The police came, Mitch threatened to press charges, and we went back to the hotel. I sat in the room all night, not knowing where Mitch was, and the next morning, he came into the room and told me we were leaving in ten minutes. I didn't argue. I didn't question the perfume I could smell on his skin. I packed our bags and tried my best not to upset him. If we can just get back to New York, we can fix things. I'm not sure why I lied to myself. I had been trying to "fix things" between us for the last few years. I slide my debit card into the machine, sign the screen, and take the items ] from the woman. It begins to rain on my way back to our apartment. By the time I get home, my hair and clothes stick to my body.

My nerves escalate. I set the clothes on the armchair then go into the bedroom to change before Mitch sees me. He hates it when I'm a disheveled mess. I change and am in the middle of drying my hair when my alarm rings. Oh God. It's so late, and I don't have dinner made. I put my hairdryer down and rush out to the kitchen and open the refrigerator. The chicken still isn't fully defrosted, and my gut sinks further. Can I do anything right today?

My appointment with my new interior design clients ran late. I should have been home two hours ago, but I also was almost to the apartment when I remembered about the dry cleaning. Mitch has a demanding work schedule and wants dinner on the table when he comes home. I only started my business a few years ago, and he makes more money than me. I made over six figures last year, but he calls it "a glorified hobby." He's a financial advisor, and his job is more important, so he expects me to take care of anything related to the house. And I want to make him happy, so I do my best to make sure everything is clean and as he likes it. The door slams, and I curse myself for not paying better attention today.

"Anna," he barks.

I run out to the living room and attempt to kiss him, but he turns his cheek.

"Hi. Did you have a good day?"

He scowls. "Why is your hair wet?"

"I-I got caught in the rain and was drying it but went to the kitchen to start dinner."

"To start dinner? It's seven o'clock." He scowls.

"I'm sorry. I picked up a new client today and-"

"A new client," he growls.

I nod and force a smile. "Yes. And-"

He pushes me back so I'm against the wall. "Did you sleep with him?"

"What?"

He fists my damp hair. "You fucking whore."

Tears blur my vision. "Mitch, no! I would never-"

He slaps my face so hard, I wonder if my cheekbone cracked. His watch slices my lip.

"Ow!" I scream. The metallic taste of blood hits my tongue.

His brown eyes turn almost black. He yanks my hair and spit flies out of his mouth. "You're a fat, little-"

"Piece of shit!" my brother, Chase, yells and pulls Mitch off me.

What is he doing here?

Chase lives in Chicago. He moved there over a year ago.

"Chase, no!" I yell as he pummels Mitch in the face.

The two men roll on the floor as I scream. The fight seems to last forever. There's so much blood, mostly Mitch's, and I think my brother will kill him.

The neighbor comes over to try and break it up and also calls the police. It takes all of them to break up the fight. The next few hours are chaotic. Mitch, Chase, and I are all questioned. They take pictures of all of us. A female officer takes me into the bedroom. "There's a safehouse I can take you to."

"That isn't necessary," I tell her through my tears. "It was just a misunderstanding. He didn't mean it."

She tilts her head. "Ma'am, this isn't the first time he's hit you. We have the report when the neighbors called the last time." More shame fills me. I glance out the window. "That was over a year ago and my fault." She picks up my hand. "Nothing is your fault." I turn to her. "You don't know. You don't live with us. It was."

"No," she insists.

A male officer, who my brother knows, leads Chase into the bedroom.

Chase goes into my closet and grabs my suitcase. "You have five minutes to pack, Anna."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're coming to Chicago with me."

"No, I'm not. Mitch is hurt. If I leave..."

"This is over," my brother yells.

"Calm down," the officer states.

Chase takes a deep breath. His hand is swollen and face is bruised. "Give my sister and me a minute, please."

I rise and go to the window.

I can't leave him. He'll be so angry if I go.

He's going to kill me.

No, he didn't mean it. He's under a lot of stress.

Why did I have to screw up today?

"This is a misunderstanding. I didn't have dinner ready. I got caught in the rain. I just...just..." I

start to sob, and Chase pulls me into his arms.

He sternly says, "Anna, we're going to Chicago. Pack, or don't, but we're leaving in four minutes.

You are not staying with him. And even if you tried, the police are requiring you to stay apart right now."

I can't talk. My brother's arms feel so safe, and I hate that they are his and not Mitch's. That I've failed to maintain my relationship, and Chase has to be the one to comfort me. If he hadn't shown up, Mitch might have killed me. He wouldn't.

His eyes were scarier than last time.

It only happened once before. Mitch promised me he would never do it again. But I've never seen his eyes so dark and so much hatred in them before.

I take nothing but my purse. In a haze, I get on Chase's plane and fly to Chicago with him. He tries to talk to me, but I can't do anything except cry.

I have so much guilt over what happened. And I'm embarrassed my brother witnessed everything.

When we land, Vivian is waiting in the car.

Her face falls when she sees us.

I cry all over again, and she hugs me.

When we get to their penthouse, Xander is waiting.

"Why is Xander here?" I ask.

Vivian's eyes are full of sympathy, and more shame fills me. "You're hurt, Anna. So is Chase. He's going to examine you both."

"No, I'm-"

"It's here or the hospital," my brother barks.

I shut my eyes. Can this get any more embarrassing?

I've known Xander forever. He's a doctor, but I'd rather have a stranger look at my face.

"It was only a slap. I'm fine," I insist.

"Only a slap? Do you hear yourself?" Chase growls.

Vivian puts her hand on his arm. "Chase-"

"No. Enough of this."

"Not now," Vivian says.

He opens his mouth then shuts it. "Fine. Tomorrow we're talking."

Why did I come here?

Where else would I have gone?

It's Mitch's apartment. I would have had to go to the safehouse.

"Anna, let me clean your face," Xander quietly says.

There's no point fighting this.

I sit on the table and let him, trying not to wince.

"I'm sorry. I know this hurts."

I can't look at him, it's too humiliating. So I keep my eyes shut.

"All done," he finally says then turns to Chase. "Your hand is swollen badly. I'd feel better if we took some X-rays."

Chase groans. "Is that necessary?"

"Yeah. I think you're going to need a cast. But I'll get you in and out. Let's go."

Chase sighs and gets up. He grumbles, "Fine."

"I'm sorry," I quietly say, closing my eyes again. I want this nightmare to be over.

Chase tilts my chin up. "Anna."

I open my eyes.

"This is not your fault."

I wish I could stop crying, but I can't.

Vivian clears her throat. "You should go. It's already late."

Chase pats my shoulder and leaves with Xander.

I ask Vivian if I can go to sleep. I don't want to talk. She hands me pajama bottoms and a top, but she's several sizes smaller than me, so they are skin tight.

I stare in the mirror, crying some more. If you weren't so fat, maybe this wouldn't have happened.

I'm the same size I've always been, but in the last year, Mitch started pointing out how big my ass and the rest of my body parts are. I've been eating a careful diet of portioned macros so I don't gain any weight. I tried to lose some, but nothing seems to budge.

Why didn't I bring clothes? What am I going to wear tomorrow?

I take my clothes to the laundry room. Vivian is folding towels.

"Hey. You want me to wash those for you?"

"Please. I didn't bring anything." I look down at my body, which is stretching the fabric of her pajamas as far as they can go. "I'm bigger than you. My fat ass isn't going to fit into your clothes, I'm afraid."

"You aren't fat. You have a beautiful figure."

I turn away, and more tears fall.

She quietly says, "Why don't I get out my laptop, and you can order some clothes? There's a service that delivers. It'll be here by ten tomorrow, at the latest, if you order tonight."

"Okay. Thanks."

We sit on the couch, shopping online. I select an outfit and go to check out.

"That's all you're getting?" she asks.

"I have enough at my place."

The sympathetic expression she's been giving me all night reappears. She puts her hand on mine.

"Anna, you can't go back there. Chase isn't going to let you leave anytime soon."

"I'm not his hostage."

"Anna-"

"You don't know what happened. It's not Mitch's fault."

She sternly says, "Yes, it is. No one should ever hit you."

"He's stressed. He has a lot going on at work, and this weekend didn't help."

"I'm sure he's pissed. But it doesn't make it right. He could kill you."

I turn away. "He wouldn't." My voice shakes when it comes out.

Vivian stays quiet.

I rise to get my purse to pay for my outfit. I come back and enter my debit card info, but the order won't go through. Insufficient funds flashes on the screen.

"Something must be wrong with their system," I say, feeling embarrassed again but knowing I have enough money in my account.

I take my credit card out of my wallet and try to use it. It gets declined as well.

"I don't understand what is going on. I have plenty of money and credit available," I tell Vivian.

"Just put it on mine. The info is already in the system."

"I need to call the bank."

"Anna, does Mitch have access to your accounts?"

My gut twists. "Yes. We have joint accounts. Since he manages money, I let him do what's best for

us with it. We keep two thousand dollars in it at all times, and he invests the rest."

"Do you have other cards?"

"No. Mitch doesn't like debt. This one is only for emergencies."

The color in her face drains. "Do you have access to the investment accounts?"

"I assume I do."

"You've never seen them?"

"No. Mitch takes care of it."

She furrows her brows. "Do you have online access to your account?"

"Yes." I try to log in to my bank account first, but I can't get in or reset the password. My credit card is the same. The air in my lungs becomes thick.

I pick up my phone to call the bank. There's a text message from Mitch.

"I'm sorry about tonight. It won't happen again. Call me."

I start to text him, and Vivian pulls my phone out of my hand.

"Do not talk to him tonight."

"Vivian-"

"No. He cut off all your access to your funds. Your money, Anna. Not his, yours. My guess is the investment accounts don't even have your name on them."

"He wouldn't do that," I claim, but the voice in my head says that she's right.

"Anna, I know this is hard for you, but you need to be honest with yourself about what is

happening right now. If you go back to him, he will hurt you again, possibly kill you. He's cutting off your access to money so he can control you, thinking it'll drive you back to him."

I don't want to hear or believe it. Deep down, I know everything she's saying is true. "Why does this have to hurt so bad," I finally admit.

She pulls me into her arms, and I sob. When my brother comes back from the hospital, I'm still crying. His right hand is in a cast.

Mitch attempts to call me, and Chase grabs my phone. "What are you doing?" I cry out.

He turns my phone off. "Anna, go to sleep. Tomorrow, we are talking." "Give me my phone!"

"No. You can have it back tomorrow, if I can trust you."

"If you can trust me?"

"Yes. You aren't talking to him."

"I'm not a child."

Chase looks at me. All I feel is like I've disappointed him. "No. You're my beautiful sister who deserves someone to worship you, not hurt you. And if I have to lock you in a room to keep you away from him, I will. So help me, God, Anna, if he steps foot near you ever again, I will be in jail for killing him with my bare hands."

His words only make me cry harder. I don't know why I'm fighting Chase. I know Mitch crossed the line again. I saw what he was capable of in his eyes, which is far worse than what he did to me. If Chase hadn't shown up, I might be dead right now.

If my friend told me this was going on in her relationship, I would tell her to run. But I've put my heart and soul into the last five years. I love Mitch. Not the person he was tonight, but the person he is most of the time. Except for the previous year, but that's from the stress of his job. Plus, you were growing your

career and had less time to focus on Mitch.

He warned me I was putting my business before us. Tonight is a perfect example.

I had to think I could do it all.

Why am I thinking like this?

I put my hands over my face and sob. "I'm so screwed up!"

Chase pulls me into his arms again. "None of this is on you, Anna."

Then why do I feel like it is? Why can't Mitch love me without hurting me?

The thought that I've been pushing down for over a year, since the last time he beat me, rushes back. Maybe I'm just unlovable.