Authors: Janice Kay Johnson
He hoped to God it would be with her. He didn't know if he could do it on his own.
“I understand.” She stood, too, toe-to-toe with him, not backing down. “I just need you to know that when we find him, it might not be what you think.”
The panic eating up his insides let go. “Fair enough.”
“Okay.” Turning, she reached down to the floor, slinging her bag up over shoulder.
“Soâ” just to be clear “âyou're still in?”
“Of course. I was never out. I'll see you in the morning.”
Without another word, she turned and made her way down the hall. Max was still standing in the living room, right as she'd left him, when the door to the guest bedroom closed quietly behind her.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
J
ENNA
TOSSED
AND
turned most of Tuesday night. She could handle whatever was handed to her. She knew how to put one foot in front of the other, how to get up in the morning and start off the day with the belief that she could make it a good one. She knew how to take things one moment at a time, to find even the smallest positive if that's what it took to get through.
She just couldn't figure out how to fall asleep.
Lila had asked her if she wanted to stay and talk. And Jenna knew the woman had been asking her to do so. She'd told her the same thing she'd told the policeman. She didn't need anything. She was fine.
One of her bungalow mates got up just after three. Latoya, she figured. The older woman couldn't make it through the night without a trip to the bathroom. She'd suffered bladder damage the last time her husband knocked her to the ground and kicked her.
Jenna heard movement. Waited for the swish of water going through the pipes as the toilet flushed. She counted sheep and thought about making oatmeal for Carly and Latoya in the morning. They both needed to eat more. And both had early-morning sessions at the main building. Latoya was starting a job as a sales clerk in the TLS gift shop, Pretty Dreams.
And Carly...she had her first physical therapy session tomorrow morning, to help her regain full use of her left shoulder, which her boyfriend had damaged by shattering her rotator cuff.
Yes, she'd make oatmeal. And at ten she was meeting her little client who was stuttering. It would be good to work.
She'd also met a woman the day before who wanted to lose her heavy South American accent with hopes of becoming as Americanized as she could. Romar had come to the States as a mail-order bride and loved the country, but had become a victim to the man who'd purchased her. Fighting for her freedom was made harder by her inability to make herself understood. Because helping people lose accents was part of the work of a speech pathologist, Jenna was going to work with her every day for as long as the two of them were residents of The Lemonade Stand. She'd made it clear there were no promises after that.
She lay in bed, making mental lists. And when each thought ended, she found herself right back where she'd started. Face-to-face with an image of the husband she'd left behind.
At four, when darkness and panic finally won the battle she'd been having with them, when she started to shake and her stomach had knotted to the point of hurting, she gave up trying to sleep. Throwing the covers back, she rolled out of bed and took a seat at the antique desk she liked so much.
The little things. They would see her through. She just had to focus. The antique-white color of the desk was nice. It reminded her of a bedroom set she'd once seen in a magazine. She'd been about ten and sitting with her mother waiting in some office. She'd long since forgotten what they were waiting for. But she remembered the magazine, and showing her mother the picture.
She'd come home from school a month later to find a similar set furnishing her bedroom. Complete with a canopy bed.
Jenna pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them. And when the tears threatened to come anyway, she knelt at the side of her bed, pulled out the diary she hid there every night, and, sitting on the floor with her back against the bed, she began to write.
* * *
D
AY
S
EVEN
.
Tonight I gave my husband away. I cannot pretend otherwise.
Officer Wayne Stanton. It's a name I will never forget. At first I feared him, as I fear most people in uniform. The uniform, after all, is a shield that protects those who wear it from being accountable.
But that's old news.
Officer Wayne Stanton. As soon as he told me that he was there on a mission for Las Sendas P.D. Officer Chantel Harris, I knew what I'd done. I sent Max straight back to Jill's best friend. The woman was in love with him, even if he wasn't aware of that.
I've never even met her, and I knew she loved him. He told me some of the things she'd said, but I also saw the cards she sent. Every Christmas. When Caleb was born. Anytime anything special happened in our lives.
They were addressed to both of us but the messages had been highly personal. And clearly only for Max.
He'd said it was because she didn't know me yet.
But he never offered to introduce us.
And now I've given him reason to call her. To seek out her help.
Hands trembling, Jenna glanced over what she'd written, hardly able to read the scribbled words. And still she felt the pain of them.
She'd had to let go before. So many times. Why did it have to hurt so badly this time?
The dark of the night belongs here, in the only place left where I can truly be myself. These pages.
Max hasn't accepted that I left him. I really thought that the keys in the cup holder would do it.
She had to pause again as tears blurred her vision. She'd cried when she'd left those keys there, knowing that by doing so she was stabbing Max in the heart.
But a little stab now was so much better than the grief he'd feel if Caleb was hurt. Better than loving Meri for another few years, making more memories and maybe even another baby, and then losing her. She knew that. Knew that she was being kindest in the long run. Knew that she had no other choice. And still...
Sometimes I wonder when I will reach the point that it's all more than I can bear. When is enough, enough?
No. She couldn't go down the road to nowhere. She'd traveled it for too long. And wasn't going back.
She wouldn't give Steve that satisfaction. And she wouldn't do it to herself, either.
I have to let Max know that I'm okay. And that I honestly and truly want to leave him so he'll tell Chantel to stop looking for me. I can't have them finding Steve. They'll never get him. They'll only piss him off. Make him more inclined to hurt them. Or Caleb. They're taking away the time I need to plan. Forcing me to hurry.
I have to convince him to back off.
I convinced Officer Wayne Stanton tonight. I convinced Renee and Yvonne, too. And now I have to find a way to convince the dear sweet man that I love more than life that I don't want a life with him.
Please God, if I'm going to die seeing this mission through, take me soon.
* * *
O
N
W
EDNESDAY
MORNING
, Chantel called Max at work. He'd just come in from a patient and was voicing his chart notes into his computer when the phone rang.
“Do you have anyone who covers for you there?”
“I do,” he said. And as soon as he got off the phone, he was going to ask the other pediatrician who worked at the clinic to take his appointments for the rest of the day. It would be the second day in a week that he'd asked for the favor.
“What's up?” He'd dropped Caleb off at day care on his way in to work that morning so Chantel had the house to herself. And the freedom to come and go as necessary.
“I have a dinner appointment with that detective I told you about.”
“She's in Santa Raquel?”
“No, it's in Laughlin. She doesn't want to meet in Vegas. She says there are too many people who know people there and she's not sure who's still friendly with Steve and who isn't. I guess he was in good with the police commissioner and I'm guessing that's why he still has a perfect record.”
“Laughlin's nine hours from here.”
“I can get us booked on a flight to Bullhead City just across the river if you can leave by two. We'll be home by eleven o'clock tonight. Wayne and his wife said they'd keep Caleb for us. They'll come to your house. I think he's curious to meet you and Caleb after seeing Meredith last night.”
“He believes her.”
“Yeah, but he also understands your position. It's a tough one. Like I said, we all deal with DV issues, Max. And I knew you wouldn't leave Caleb unless you were absolutely certain he'd be safe.”
“Thank you. I'm in.”
Max finished charting, rescheduled his well-checks, and moved the rest of his appointments to the office next door. He did the same for Thursday's appointments, as well.
He had no idea what he was going to find out in Laughlin.
But he walked with new energy in his step.
He was going to get some answers.
Finally.
* * *
J
ENNA
MANAGED
TO
avoid Lila on Wednesday. She avoided the cafeteria and, except for her speech therapy appointments, she avoided the main building.
For that one day, she avoided the library as well, opting instead to take a break at the resort's kidney-shaped outdoor pool.
Steve was not her first priority that day.
Convincing Max that she'd left of her own accord was her number one priority. If he didn't stop looking for her, Steve would get mad. He might do something to Caleb, just to show Max who was more powerful. Lying facedown on a lounge chair in the one piece suit she'd picked up from the TLS thrift store, Jenna closed her eyes.
After her restless night, she was exhausted.
And still couldn't sleep.
She never should have married Max. Tears sprang to her eyes at the thought, but it was true. She knew Steve better than anyone. She'd known he'd never leave her alone. She'd wanted so badly to have a normal life. To have a family of her own. To love and be loved.
She'd wanted to believe that all she had to do was have the courage to start over. To open her heart and let trust be reborn. To hope and dream.
But she'd known, with some part of her, that she couldn't have a normal life. Steve wasn't just an abuser. He was her owner.
In his mind.
And still she'd married Max. She'd given birth to a child.
Knowing that they could be in danger someday.
Now it was up to her to fix that mistake.
“I've been looking for you.”
She didn't need to open her eyes to know that Lila had taken the seat next to her. But she opened them anyway.
Sitting sideways, facing Jenna, Lila was fully dressed in beige pants, a cream-colored blouse and a beige sweater. Her graying hair was pulled back into a bun. Jenna concentrated on the toes of the plain beige flats on the woman's feet.
She didn't say anything.
“Thank you for being out here,” Lila said softly. From her supine position, Jenna couldn't see her face. She saw the older woman's hands folded together, resting on her knees.
“The pool's been open for almost a month and only a handful of people have used it. Mostly moms who come out to let their kids swim.”
There were certain hours when the pool was open to children. And there were adult-only swim times, too.
“I was hesitant at first about having a pool installed,” Lila continued. “Most of our women...they've got scars to hide outside as well as in...and then it occurred to me that that was exactly the reason to have a place where they can remember the joy of sluicing through the water or lying out in the sun without having to be self-conscious. And maybe...if they get used to it here, they'll continue to go to the pool or the ocean when they leave here, too.”
Jenna had scars. On her back. Both upper arms. On the back of her neck and the front of one thigh. When had she stopped thinking about them? Remembering to hide them?
Turning over, she sat up.
“Max made me feel beautiful,” she said. Lila knew about Meredith. Officer Wayne Stanton had agreed to keep her whereabouts and her name change secret. Last night, in her office, Lila had, too.
Neither of them knew why she'd insisted they not tell anyone. And that if they did, she'd leave the shelter.
Lila would never condone Jenna's plan to confront her abuser alone. But that was the only way Steve wanted her. The only hope she had that he wouldn't immediately go on the defensive....
Glancing at Lila, Jenna was surprised at the warmth in the other woman's eyes. Lila was a professional. A woman in her position couldn't afford to get emotionally involved with the hundreds of women who made their way through the shelter.
“I didn't realize it until right now, you know,” Jenna said. “I didn't realize that I'd lost that feeling of being...physically ugly. I cover the scars out of habit, not because I'm consciously aware of them, or aware of the questions they'd raise in other people.” She shook her head. “I can't believe I forgot that.”
Max hadn't just told her she was beautiful. He'd shown her. The man had been so hot for her she'd barely been able to get him to put clothes on when she was around. He was a little better since Caleb had been born. A little more circumspect. But his sexual appetite hadn't waned one bit.
Neither, for that matter, had hers.
An astounding feat for a woman who'd grown to hate sex and everything about it.
“Your Max sounds like a pretty incredible man.”
Jenna's eyes narrowed. “What do you know about Max? Have you been talking to someone?”
She didn't mean to sound accusatory, but this was her problem. She'd created it. She'd fix it.
And if she succeeded with Steve?
Then, if she was meant to be with Max, he'd be available.
“Jenna?”
She looked up at Lila.
“Yes?”
“I didn't talk to anyone. About you or Max. And I won't. But I want you to talk to me. Please.”
She understood the position Lila was in. She had regulations she had to follow.
But Jenna didn't have anything to say.
“Did Max hit you?”