WARNING: This chapter contains some violence. I felt it gives an explanation as to why Paul may have killed Michael. If this offends you, please read at your own discretion or skip altogether.

How Long is Forever

Chapter 6

When Della opened her apartment door expecting to see Perry, her heart froze when she saw an entirely different man standing there. Michael moved out of the shadows and the arrogant smirk on his face almost made Della forget she had neighbors.

"Hello, Sweet Thing. Long time, no see." It was one of his lazy greetings, the kind he employed when he was biding his time before unleashing his temper. She knew it all too well.

"Michael! What are you doing here?"

Michael just pushed past her, sauntering into her living room. He proceeded to roam around, examining her furniture. He went down the short hall to her bedroom, looking back at her with a gleam in his eyes that sent cold shivers through her.

"Run!" her mind commanded, but her knees disobeyed. For now she was going to stand her ground. Her apartment, her rules.

Coming back to stand beside her, he ran a finger down her cheek. It was gentle, almost a caress. It made her stomach turn over. He laughed when Della flinched.

"Nice place, Sweet Thing. Got anything to drink?"

Della crossed her arms over her chest, frowning as Michael sat on her couch. "The usual things. Water for the stray animals that come around. I serve it in a bowl. Want some?"

His eyes darkened, then cleared. "You used to be so . . . accommodating."

"Los Angeles as been an excellent training ground for dealing with wolves. But then, my first experience with the big bad variety came in Chicago." She dropped the banter. "I want you out, Michael. Now."

Michael smiled at her, again looking around the apartment. He spotted the picture of Perry on the side table. Picking it up he looked from the picture to Della, then placed the picture face down on the table.

"Is that any way to talk to your husband?"

She managed to hide her surprise at his statement. He was toying with her, she knew. Had to be. She had crossed every t, dotted every i, and even had the judge swear to her it was finished. So Della swallowed her terror and reminded herself that she needed to get control and get him out.

"Ex-husband. Now will you please leave before I have to summon help."

He stood and walked towards her.

"Oh, Sweet Thing, that's where you're wrong. You see, I never signed the final decree."

"Liar!"

He grabbed her roughly by the arms, pulling her into him. "You are still my wife."

When she struggled against him, he slapped her so hard she saw stars. Della broke free and ran to pick up the phone. He caught up to her, twisting her arm and punching her in the ribs, finally hitting her in the face with a closed fist. It was the last thing she remembered.

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When Della finally regained consciousness, Michael had gone. She was still lying on the floor where she had fallen. When she tried to sit up, she felt the sharp stab in her side. She moved very slowly, knowing she probably had a cracked rib. She could only see out of one eye and she touched her left cheek, hoping she didn't have a broken jaw.

She managed to reach her phone, dialing the number for her friend.

Paul, sitting on his couch, groaned when the phone rang. He thought it was probably Perry with a job for him. He grabbed his ever-present notebook and a pen, then picked up the phone.

"Geez, Perry! Have a heart, would ya? I was just about to—"

"Paul, it's Della."

Ohhh. "Hi, Beautiful. What…"

"Paul, I need you. I'm…" Her words were coming and going. She was in real trouble.

"Della, what's wrong? Where are you?"

"Home. I'm…I'm hurt."

"Is the Boss with you?"

"No! Paul—not Perry, please."

Now he was terrified. Even as he put on his shoes, he asked, "How bad is it, Kid?"

"He beat me up." Her voice was soft and steady. "I don't know what he did to me while I was . . . Please DON'T BRING PERRY."

"Okay. Just stay put. I'm on my way."

Hanging up, Paul ran out the door. Not bothering to wait for the elevator, he scrambled down the stairs. A moment later his car roared to life and he came screaming out of the garage, pushing the Thunderbird to its limits.

Reaching Della's apartment house, he took the stairs three at a time. When he got to her door, he didn't bother knocking, just rushed in. The sight that met him literally took his breath away. Della was still lying on the floor. She appeared to be asleep or unconscious. He crossed the room, gently lifting her in his arms. When she moaned, he kissed her forehead.

"It's alright, Beautiful. I'm here."

He carried her to the bedroom, placing her carefully on the bed. The left side of her face was already turning purple, her eye almost swollen shut. Her arms showed bruises where she had been held.

Paul hurried to the kitchen, filling a towel with ice. Grabbing another towel, he filled a bowl with warm water, soaking the towel in it. Carrying the bowl and ice back to the bedroom, he sat gently on the bed.

He used the warm towel to wipe her face, taking care around her eye. Then he placed the towel with the ice against her battered cheek.

"Della, who did this?"

"Michael."

"Michael who?"

"Domenico…my…my ex-husband."

Paul noticed her breathing was ragged and strained. He touched her side, causing a loud moan from Della.

"Sweetheart, you may have a broken rib. I need to get you to a hospital."

Della grabbed his hand. "No Paul, please. Call Dr. Anson. He'll come here."

Paul hesitated but seeing the pain she was in, hurried into the living room to call. He didn't give the doctor too many details, just asked him to hurry.

When the doctor arrived, he took one look at Della, turned to Paul and ordered him to call an ambulance.

"Doc, Della doesn't want to go to the hospital. And she doesn't want Perry to know."

"Paul, she has a cracked rib and her left eye is in bad shape. I need…"

Paul took his arm. "Her ex-husband did this. You know what will happen if Perry finds out. Especially since it's Della."

Both Dr. Anson and Paul had seen Perry's reaction to one of his clients who had been abused. Paul was afraid if Perry found out, he'd do something very illegal.

"Alright. I'll do what I can. But she's going to need 24-hour care. And how are you going to keep it from Perry?"

"I'll handle things. You just help her."

The doctor had done what he could, leaving some pain medicine and instructions for Paul on caring for Della. Paul had called Della's Aunt Mae, telling her only that Della was hurt and she needed to come. Mae said she would be there first thing in the morning.

After Della had fallen asleep, Paul tried to make himself comfortable on the couch. But every time he closed his eyes, he saw Della and the terrible bruises. He was going to find this Domenico creep and extract a little bit of justice.

He had finally just fallen asleep when he heard her voice.

"Paul?"

"Hey, Beautiful. Are you okay? Do you need more pain meds?"

Della walked slowly around and settled herself on the couch next to him. She lay her head on his shoulder, curling her legs under her.

Paul understood at once. She needed comfort. She needed her 'big brother'. Paul eased himself back, letting her get as comfortable as she could. He pulled the afghan from the back of the couch, wrapping it gently around her.

"Thanks."

Paul's chest rumbled as he chuckled.

"Any time Beautiful. Any time."