Page 22 of All Hale the Queen

“I really like your car,” I say to change the subject. “There’s something about the rumble of the engine on these old muscle cars that just hits different.”

“Agree,” Antonio says, his eyes lighting up. “I told you we never had a car growing up, so when I moved to the States after I got out of the military, I was like a kid in a candy store. Started my collection with a 1968 Mustang Fastback that I got for a couple grand. It was in horrible condition, but I worked on it myself to restore it. I’ve always been good with my hands.”

“I can attest to that,” I say cheekily, and he groans, shooting me a look filled with warning.

“Love, I just got my cock to relax, and now you’re tempting him again.”

“Think about baseball or something,” I reply airily, trying to hold back a giggle.

“Fantastic. Now I’m thinking of you riding my bat.”

“I think you missed the opportunity to make a hot dog joke in there somewhere.”

He shakes his head, but his beard twitches as he takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. “Tell me more about Beverly’s Hope.”

I link my fingers with his. “It’s a non-profit I started after the death of my sister.” Leaning back in my seat, I stare at the roof of the car, trying to contain my emotions. “Beverly was the smartest person I knew… except when it came to men. The worse they treated her, the harder she fell for them.”

“What happened to her?” Antonio asks quietly.

“After dating a bunch of losers in high school and college, she went to law school, and we all thought for sure she’d outgrow that rebellious stage.” I close my eyes and shake my head. “She met a man there, and he seemed great. They married as soon as they both graduated. Like I said, Beverly was brilliant, and she passed the bar exam on her first try. Her husband, Bruce, did not. We had a party for her, and that’s when I noticed the bruises on her throat. She tried to cover them up, but when we went to the restroom together, I noticed a hint of them in the bright lights over the mirror.”

“Dammit,” Antonio grunts. “Her husband did that to her?”

“Yes. She made excuses for him and said it was just some rough play during sex, and they got carried away.”

I can hear Antonio’s teeth grinding from here. “If you leave bruises during that kind of play, you’re not fecking doing it right.”

“That’s what I told her. Anyway, I was concerned and made sure she knew I was there for her if she needed me, and she laughed it off like I was being silly.” I’m quiet for a moment, gathering my thoughts. “The next time I saw marks on her was after Bruce failed the exam again. She canceled a lunch with me because she said she was sick, so I showed up at her house with chicken soup and a couple movies. That’s when I saw her black eye and split lip.”

Antonio shakes his head. “Did she leave him then?”

I let out a humorless scoff. “No, she made more excuses. He was just upset. He didn’t mean to. It was emasculating to him that she passed and he didn’t. Stuff like that.”

Antonio’s thumb strokes softly up and down my index finger, and that small gesture gives me the strength to continue. “Luckily, the asshole passed the next go-around, so he didn’t take out his own ignorance on Bev. I was still concerned though. I tried to bring it up to her several times over the next year, but she shut me down every time, telling me everything was fine.”

“Some men just can’t handle a woman being better at something than them,” he says, taking the exit smoothly. “Beating a woman isn’t masculine; it’s cowardly.”

“I agree. When Beverly announced she was pregnant, I was devastated because I knew she’d be tied to her abuser for the rest of her life. I tried again to talk her into leaving, but she was convinced she had to stay with him because of the baby.”

Antonio grimaces. “When in reality, that’s the reason she should have left.”

I nod and stare out the window at the tree-lined sidewalk as I rush through the hardest part of the story. “Bruce, in his deluded thinking, became convinced the baby wasn’t his, so he shot my sister when she was five months pregnant. At his trial, the DNA evidence showed the baby was indeed his, which I already knew. Beverly would never cheat.”

I don’t cry often over my sister’s death anymore, but I still feel the ache of her loss deep in my soul. Antonio picks up my hand and kisses it, holding it against his lips as he speaks.

“I’m so sorry, love. Was he convicted?”

“He was,” I murmur. “While he was in prison, he picked a fight with the wrong guy and ended up dead.”

“Good riddance,” Antonio snaps. “Guess he got a taste of his own medicine.”

“I wasn’t sad about it at all,” I admit. “I decided to do something to honor her and to help other women in abusive relationships, so I started Beverly’s Hope. My sister was an educated woman from an influential family, and it still didn’t matter. Abuse doesn’t respect careers, family, or finances, though the majority of the women who are in that kind of situation do experience financial abuse. They end up tied to someone who controls all the money. Or they give up their career to ‘take care of their man,’ which effectively traps them in the relationship because they have no other options.”

Antonio sets our joined hands on his thigh. “I’m proud of you for giving them options. I know it must be difficult for you to be reminded of Beverly.”

I smile over at him. “The rewards outweigh the hardships. Every time I see a woman successfully take back control of her life, I feel like my sister is smiling down at me.”

“What do you do to help them?”