Closing her eyes, Ella hung her head. He didn’t see it. The big picture was completely oblivious to him. Sometimes a person had to swallow their pride for the greater good. And this was one of those moments.
Mitch stared at him, chest heaving in rage. This was the first time she really saw the cousins as a physical threat. He was so furious he was capable of anything. A sneer curled his upper lip as he directed the glare at her. “We’ll take that check now.”
“What check?” Lance asked.
“Your girlfriend wanted to pay off your loan earlier, so you wouldn’t have to fight anymore.”
Lance jerked back like he’d been struck. In a way, he had been. He’d see this as much of a betrayal as she saw his refusal to lose as one.
“You tried to pay them off?” he asked.
She held his gaze, not ashamed about what she did. She’d been looking out for his best interest, and she wouldn’t apologize for it, especially when he refused to do it for himself. “I did.”
All he did was stare at her, then he rammed a fist in the nearby wall. “I told you this was my debt. My responsibility.”
Unruffled, she lifted her chin. “Unlike you, I was looking at the big picture. You needed to stop fighting before you ended up really hurt. I had the money.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck that you had the money—it’s not your debt to pay. It’s mine.” He knotted his hands in his hair. “Why can’t you leave it alone? Why can’t you let me do this my way? Why do you want to jump in and rescue me? I didn’t ask you to the first time, and I’m not asking you to now. Stop. Rescuing. Me.”
“Someone has to save you from yourself. Your damn pride is going to end up getting you killed.”
“Both of you shut the fuck up,” Mitch yelled. “I want my goddam money. I don’t give two shits where it comes from. I want it and I want it now.”
“You’re not getting that money from her.” Lance took a step toward him. “You’ll get your fucking loss. Okay? Schedule another fight and I’ll make it the biggest goddamn upset in MMA history.” He returned his glare to her. “You happy now?”
Her shoulders slumped. He still didn’t get it. Considering his past, he never would. People couldn’t go at it alone. “This has never had anything to do with making me happy. You refuse to accept help, Lance. And I’m not going to stick around and watch you destroy yourself simply because of your stubborn pride. It’s time for me to go home.”
Without another word, she turned and left the room. She pressed her lips together willing away the tears that rimmed her eyes. Her trip here had always been temporary. Why did she feel so heartbroken in leaving? She shook away the feeling. She had a life to reclaim and a man to forget.
Chapter Eleven
Ella shifted the grocery bag higher up in the crook of her arm as she strode up the stone walkway that lead to Healing Hands Women’s Shelter. The huge six-bedroom Victorian house had been restored and donated to the town ten years ago by a man whose mother had died at the hands of his abusive father.
When she’d been approved as a volunteer to work inside the shelter, she’d been humbled. Talking to these women had been a great secondary source of therapy as they dealt with some of the same emotions that she did. She’d encouraged them, given them hope…and then run as soon as her past intertwined with the present. Facing them again was going to be one of the hardest things she’d done in a long time.
As she neared the wraparound porch, her chest tightened. Since she’d returned to Maine four days ago, she’d walked through two important doors: her home’s and the hospital’s. She’d expected to feel some sort of triumph in doing so, but her return had been anti-climactic. She’d simply returned. If anything, she’d been left with an edgy, clawing feeling that something was missing, which made no sense. She was taking back everything she’d set out to reclaim. Shouldn’t she feel victorious?
The only explanation she could come up with was that she’d avoided the shelter. Now she was about to walk through the third and final door.
She punched in the code on the electronic keypad and waited for the clicking sounds that signaled the door had unlocked. Taking a deep breath, Ella stepped inside the foyer. A familiar redhead glanced up from behind the front desk.
A huge smile spread across Rebecca’s face as she stood and hurried around the desk to hug Ella. “God, Ella, we’ve missed you.”
It felt so good to be going by her real name again, especially here.
Healing Hands had been the only place she’d been able to be herself since Randy had changed her. It was one of the reasons why this place, the women inside these walls, were so important. They shared something horrific others didn’t understand.
She pulled away from Rebecca and smiled, not caring that her eyes were rimmed with tears. “I’ve missed you, too.”
“We’ve been so worried about you.” No pity resided in the look Rebecca gave her, just sympathetic understanding. “It didn’t take rocket science to figure out why you left so suddenly. How are you doing?”