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Authors: Sherry Gammon

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BOOK: Unbearable
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“Before I kill you, I’m going to mark my territory, if you will.” He chuckled at his vulgar analogy. “I want my face to be the last thing you see as you die.” He shoved me to the floor in the living room, next to the hole he’d made earlier. “But first, your punishment.” He tugged off his belt. It rippled through the loops with a swooshing sound I doubted I’d ever forget. I closed my eyes and curled into ball on the floor, waiting for the beating to begin.

“Relax. This part won’t be as bad as you deserve. I want you fully cognizant for the grand finale.”

Despite his words, the beating was intense and littered with crude profanity, though nowhere near as savage as the beatings had been in the past. Nevertheless, all hope of ever being free, of ever being happy seeped from me as I curled into a ball, not caring anymore how much it hurt. I just wanted to die so I could finally escape him.

After the beating, he savaged my body, my heart . . . my soul. When he finally crawled off, he shoved my face into the carpet before reaching into his discarded jeans and removing a pair of handcuffs. He hooked my arm and I braced for another beating. Instead, he shoved me against the wall, and cuffed my right wrist. He looped the cuffs around the bared wall stud then cuffed my other wrist.

As I lay naked, tethered to the stud, he gathered his clothes and headed for the bathroom, calling over his shoulder, “Don’t go anywhere while I wash your stink off me.”

I began shaking, unsure if it was from the cold or fear. I noted the sun had risen. I’d lived through the night, something I hadn’t expected. Exhausted, I closed my eyes as tears tumbled down my face to the floor.

I must have fallen asleep, or passed out, because the next thing I knew Garen, fully dressed, stood by the door twisting sheets and towels into rope-like strands.

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?” He chuckled to himself as he placed the sheets around the front edge of the living room. “What am I doing, you ask?” He spoke the question I was indeed thinking. “I’ll tell you, Terese. Have you ever talked to someone who’s been badly burned?”

I tried to sit up, forgetting I was cuffed to the stud. I didn’t like where this conversation was going.

“I have. He told me it was excruciating. Well, at first. Once the burn goes deep enough, the nerves are dead so the pain ends.” He squatted down next to my battered body. “I’m going to watch you burn until it gets to that point.”

“You’re insane,” I spit out. “Absolutely insane.”

“That comes from having your dreams destroyed.” He smacked my forehead. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to board up a few windows.” He went outside and returned with a small toolbox, from which he removed a hammer, a screwdriver, and a box of nails. He removed two doors from the kitchen cabinets and walked into the bedroom. I heard him pounding on the wood. He came back out and removed two more, taking them into the other bedroom.

“There. The windows are covered so you can’t get out of the trailer, just in case you somehow break free.” He pointed to the sheets and towels. “As you can see, the front of the trailer will have a wall of flames keeping you in, so we’re good. I’ll light the towels in front of the door on my way out so I have an escape route.” He smiled proudly, as if he’d done a good thing. He took a long blue lighter like the kind I’d seen my dad use to light the barbecue from the toolbox. “I was going to use gasoline, but I worried about the fire moving too fast. Fast is not my objective here. Slow and painful is.”

I struggled fruitlessly against the cuffs. Thankfully the sheets wouldn’t catch. “Maybe a
little
accelerant won’t hurt.” He jogged to the bathroom and returned with a bottle of clear nail polish and some polish remover. He sprinkled the sheet furthest from me with the remover. It sparked to life. “Whoa, too much.” He chuckled and stomped out the flames. Garen took the hammer and smashed the polish, smearing it along one of the towels before carefully sprinkling remover over the sheets.

“See this window?” He jerked one of the curtains down. “When it gets too dangerous for me in here, I’ll watch from outside.”

“Garen, please don’t do this,” I begged. “I have money in the bank, I’ll give it all to you, and I can send you more every month until you’re back on your feet again.”

He flew to my side, dropping down eye
-level with me. “You don’t understand. This is about payback. You destroyed my life, my dreams. I’ll not be satisfied until you’re six feet in the ground. Get it?” His lips pulled tight over his teeth. “If by some miracle you live through this, I’ll keep coming after you until I succeed. I won’t stop until you’re dead.” He stood and kicked me in the stomach as my computer chimed, signaling that I had a message.

“Seems you got mail.” Garen casually picked up the laptop he’d long ago shoved to the floor. I couldn’t believe it still worked.

“Well, well. It’s from your lover. I’ll read it to you.” He stepped over near me.


Hey, sleepyhead. I hope you’re up.”
I could almost hear Booker’s voice saying the words.
“I’m on my way over, and I’m bringing breakfast: a veggie croissant and some of my special hot chocolate. I’ll be there in a few so you’d better get dressed.”

Garen raised the laptop over his head with a scream and tossed it against the wall shattering it. “I can’t catch a break with you.” He kicked my thigh before punching the wall. “Now I’m going to have to rush this.” Garen spewed obscenities as he doused everything with the rest of the remover and a bottle of hand sanitizer he found under the kitchen sink. He lit the sheet and the fire roared to life. He turned and repeatedly kicked the chair he’d wedged under the doorknob until it shot out. He opened the door and stepped outside, starting the towels there on fire. I glanced at him through the flames. “Just remember, whore,” he said. “If you survive this, I will hunt you down. You’re going to pay.” He locked the door and slammed it shut.

I twisted on my side as the smoke thickened, choking me. The remaining curtain was now fully engulfed. The flames spread quickly along the entire front of the trailer, including the kitchen.

As the flames shot higher, I closed my eyes. Garen had won, just like I knew he would in the end.

 

 

Chapter 25

Booker

 

I made a right onto Tess’s street as a crazy driver in a blue Fusion raced past me, practically forcing me into a snow bank.

“Idiot.” The road still had a thick layer of slick snow from the storm earlier this morning. I hoped she hadn’t looked outside yet. I held tight to the wheel as I made my way to the trailer.

Fresh tire tracks led away from her place, along with a set of footprints from her trailer to the road as if someone had just left. “That’s weird.” Her car parked out front was covered in a good six inches of snow so they couldn’t be her footprints and besides, they were too big.

I swallowed hard at the memory of coming home early and finding Nikkolynn in bed with her boyfriend not so long ago. While staring at the footprints, the snow reflected flickering Christmas lights shining from inside the trailer.

“Breathe, Gatto. Tess barely speaks to anyone. She’s not cheating on you.” Shaking off the sickening feeling, I headed up the short pathway to her door. Only then did I realize the twinkling wasn’t Christmas lights, but flames. The trailer was on fire.

I jerked frantically at the locked door. A sense of dread gripped my insides. I leaned back and kicked twice before the door gave way. Flames shot out and I stumbled back into the snow. I pulled out my cell phone, dialed
nine-one-one, and requested police and fire as I slipped my coat off.

“Tess!” I yelled again, shoving the phone in my pocket. She didn’t answer. For a split second I debated about going inside. Maybe the footprints were hers. I looked at them again. No,
not hers
. Nausea welled up when I realized she might be inside.

I searched through the flames. My heart stopped when I saw a body lying on the floor next to the wall. Tess. Thankfully the flames looked to be concentrated around the door and hadn’t reached her yet. Covering my head with my coat, I jumped through the fire, praying I hadn’t made a deadly mistake. Smoke stung my eyes and scorched my throat. I dropped to my knees. Squinting, I crawled to where Tess lay naked on the floor.

Long red marks streaked her face, and her left eye was swollen. Her beautiful red hair had been chopped off, helter-skelter.

No, not again. Please don’t take another person from me
.

I jerked the cuffs. They refused to give. Pulling the coat up to cover her face, I took my Glock from my calf holster and fired three times, severing the stud. I pulled the handcuffs free and grabbed Tess to my
chest. Fire completely engulfed the front of the trailer and the kitchen. I buried my nose and mouth in my shoulder and raced to the bedroom. We’d have to go out the window.

But no.
Someone had nailed cabinet doors to both bedroom windows.
What’s going on?
I had no other options. I ran into the bathroom. I set Tess inside the shower and turned the water on warm. I pulled out my cell phone and called nine-one-one again as I jerked down the shower curtain and pressed it between the floor and the door to help keep out the smoke. “This is Captain Gatto of the MET,” I stated out of pure habit. I ordered additional fire, police, and an ambulance. “We’re stuck in the bathroom on the backside of the trailer. I’ll hang a yellow shirt from the window. They’re going to have to use the Jaws of Life to cut us out,” I instructed the operator as I ripped off my shirt and wedged it out the window’s twelve-inch opening.

Smoke seeped through the side and top of the door. I picked Tess up and stepped inside the shower, aiming the stream of water out into the small room. I pulled her closer. “Tess, please. Fight. Hold on.” She moaned in my arms. “Who did this to you? Was it someone you know, or a stranger?”

“Garen,” she whispered.

My eyes flew open wide. “He found you? How?”

“Please, Booker, please just let me die. I can’t do this anymore . . . I can’t . . .” Her eyes rolled back in her head as she passed out.

“No! We fight,” I demanded as the sirens grew louder. “We’re in this together now, Tess. I’ll be by your side. You’re not alone anymore.”

 

Chapter
26

 

I sat next to Tess, forcing back a panic attack. I had to remain in control. Her injuries, though brutal, were not as bad as I first thought. An oxygen cannula was strapped to her nose and an IV ran into her arm. “She’s going to be okay,” Cole said after settling her in the room.

“Physically, yes. Emotionally, not so much.” I took her hand in mine. “She asked me to let her die.”

“She’s been through a lot in the past several hours, Booker. I’m sure once she’s had time to recuperate, she’ll be fine.” He squeezed my shoulder as he left.

She groaned a few times, and tugged at the oxygen. She hadn’t opened her eyes since we brought her in. I spent the next three hours pacing her room, waiting for her to wake.

I leaned over and pressed my lips to her forehead. “I love you, Tess. I hung my head, not stirring again until I felt Tess’s touch as she lightly stroked my hair.

I straightened. “How are you feeling?” I took her hand in mine.

She tried to speak, but coughed instead. I got up and took the small pink water pitcher with a straw in it from her bedside table and held it to her mouth. She greedily drank from the straw. “Thank you,” she said, her voice raspy. Her hand went to her throat as she tried to clear it.

“You inhaled a lot of smoke. You’ll sound that way for a bit,” I explained.

“Are you okay? You didn’t get burned, did you?” Her eyes scanned me as her voice whispered painfully.

“No. My coat was singed, but I’m fine.” Tears welled in her eyes. “You’re safe now, Tess.” I carefully wiped her bruised cheek dry. The red welts had faded, exchanged for bruises.

“No. I’ll never be safe, ever. Garen vowed that if I survived he’d hunt me down and finish the job.” Her face scrunched in agony and she coughed again. “Why didn’t you let me die? I can’t live like this anymore. I’m tired, Booker. I’m tired of hiding, of worrying. I’m tired of being alone. I quit.”

“But you’re not alone anymore. I love you, and I’ll be by your side,” I vowed.

She shook her head. “Garen wants to control, dominate me. He wants me a cowardly mess, groveling at his feet. Well, he’s won.”

“Tess, please don’t give up.” I pressed her hand to my lips, holding back my own fears. “We can get through this together.”

She cupped my cheek. “I do so love you,” she whispered. ”But I can’t.”

“Ple—”A tapping on the door interrupted me as Cole entered.

“Hello,” he said, setting a tablet on the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling, Tess?”

“Okay,” she said soberly.

“I’d like to check your lungs and make sure they’re clearing.” She nodded. Cole pressed the stethoscope to her back and listened to her breathing. When he finished, he checked her eyes. “You sound better. I think we can remove the oxygen. We’ll check your O
2
levels first, to be safe.” Tess looked away with a shrug, ignoring him.

“Do you want more water?” I asked. She shook her head.

“I need to review her medical history for our records, Book. As you know, due to privacy laws you’ll need to lea—” Cole began.

“Booker can stay,” Tess interrupted.

“We’ll be discussing some very personal things, Tess,” Cole said, picking up the tablet.

“He can stay,” she reiterated.

“As you wish.” He removed a stylus from his breast pocket and tapped on the tablet a few times. He briefly recounted her current injuries, reassuring her that she’d make a full recovery. “Mostly bruises and a few lacerations. Surprisingly, the injuries are fairly minor, considering his intentions.”

“Doesn’t surprise me. Garen wanted me fully aware so that when he set fire to my place I’d feel the fire as it burned me alive,” she said flatly.

Cole’s face went as rigid as mine. He looked at me, then back at her. “He said that?” She nodded. Cole swore softly under his breath, something I’d never heard him do before in all the years I’d known him. I turned and paced to the window, desperate to get my hands on Garen.

“We were able to collect some DNA from the sexual assault. That should help.” Cole tapped several times on the tablet before speaking again. “I need a little medical history, if I may. The x-rays show numerous breaks, all old injuries. Let me see. There was a break to your left collarbone. Numerous skull fractures, along with several broken ribs. Your spleen’s been removed.” He paused, looking up from the tablet. “I’m hoping you’re going to tell me you were involved in a very serious car accident at some point.”

“No. Those are all from Garen, including a lacerated liver, and a few other various injuries,” she said.

“Garen did all that?” I barely controlled my anger.

“Yes.”

“Why’s he not in jail?”

“Are you serious?” She looked at me and for the first time I heard something flicker to life in her voice. “Oh, I had a restraining order against him, but those things are a joke. Do you have any idea what little the courts do to protect victims of domestic violence? Criminals have more rights than victims do.”

She dropped her head down and pulled mindlessly on some loose threads from her blanket as she told us about the abuse that finally led to her escaping Garen. She didn’t go into details, stating everything
matter-of-factly, and in generalized terms.
He kicked
or
he punched
, but it was enough to make my blood boil.

“They arrested him for putting you in the hospital, I hope.” Cole looked at her in disbelief. Me, I wanted to leave and go find the soon-to-be dead man.

“Sort of. He told everyone that someone broken into our home and that the
intruder attacked me. I couldn’t remember what had happened at first, but I knew he was lying.” She laughed a short, hard laugh before coughing again. Cole handed her the water pitcher. She took a couple more sips and set it on the table.

“In the hospital, Garen stayed by my side, night and day, looking ever the devoted husband as he set up his alibi.

“When he got a phone call the day before I was supposed to leave, I took a chance and mouthed to the nurse that Garen was the reason I was in the hospital, not a random stranger. Thankfully, she believed me and pretended to give me some powerful meds. She then told Garen I’d be out cold until morning. As soon as she was sure he’d left, the nurse called the police.”

Cole stood. “Tess, do you feel up to talking to the police about what happened at the trailer? I’d like to increase the odds of catching this guy, the sooner the better. No pressure. If you’re not ready . . .”

She shrugged. “Go ahead and call them. It really doesn’t matter.”

Cole glanced my way before walking out of the room. Anger still burned in his eyes.

I wrapped my hands around hers. “How long was he in jail?”

“Less than twelve hours,” she said. “The senator covered for him, claiming he and Garen were in meetings all day. Graft stated that I was unbalanced and had caused problems more than once for Garen. He even backed up Garen’s claim that I was having an affair.”

I ground my teeth to keep from yelling. “Why would a senator do that?”

“Garen held something over him.” She shrugged again. “The only reason Garen finally agreed to the divorce was because of my amazing attorney Michael. He hired a PI and learned that they were both involved with some pretty low-life characters. Michael worked a deal that he’d keep quiet about what the PI had found out if Garen agreed to an amicable divorce.”

“I’ll bet the weasel took that deal,” I snapped.

“But it cost my attorney his life.” Tears rose in her eyes, but she blinked them back. “Garen told me he set fire to Michael’s office, and burned him alive.
Punishment
, he claimed.”

With considerable self-control, I held my temper in check. She needed someone to talk to, not a raving lunatic. I pressed her hand to my lips. She didn’t react. She wouldn’t look at me, but she didn’t pull her
hand away. She remained flat, expressionless. “I assume you went into hiding after the divorce, fearing he’d come after you.”

“Actually, I didn’t see or hear from Garen for six months. I thought the nightmare was over. Then one sunny afternoon I was working my dad’s garden so he could start planting some vegetables.” She straightened. “Garen showed up, a rope in his hand, vowing revenge. My mom heard him and came out with a loaded gun, demanding he get off our property. My mom hates guns, but there she stood, pointing it straight at him.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “He hit my mom, catching her by surprise, and she fell against the house. I freaked. I picked up the shovel and hit him over the head with it. There was blood everywhere. I thought I’d killed him. My father came running, took one look at Garen, and called my brother, who whisked me off to a women’s shelter.” She pulled her blanket tighter around her, as if it offered some sort of protection.

I shoved my hands through my hair again as I paced to the window and then back to the bed, grinding my teeth.
I’ll find this pig and tear him apart, slowly and painfully.
I scrubbed my face with my hand.

“That was the last time I saw my family. I didn’t dare contact any of them, fearing Garen would somehow find out.” A tear rolled down her cheek, finally. “I mapped out a place to relocate while at the shelter. I decided to go somewhere cold. Garen knows how much I hate the cold, so I hoped it’d be the last place he’d think to look. New York holds six spots on the Top Ten Snowiest Places list. I picked Port Fare because it was not so big that people wouldn’t notice if I didn’t show up at work, yet not so small that my presence stuck out.”

“Wait, what about your last name? And your social security number?” I asked. “Why didn’t he track you through that?”

“I bought new ID, and a gun.”

“So your real name isn’t Terese Layla Bennett?”

“I only changed my last name. Garen took so much from me, I kept my first and middle name so I’d have some connection to my past.” She looked up at me. “My last name is Selleck. And so you know, whenever you had me sign my name to any legal documents, I did sign Selleck. I scribbled it so you couldn’t tell.”

“Tess,” I said, giving her a gentle hug. “That is the last thing I’m worried about right now.”

Cole came back as Tess lowered the head of the bed while rubbing her eyes, clearly exhausted.

“The police are on their way. I’m afraid you won’t be able to sleep just yet.” Cole came over to her bedside. “We need to catch this guy.”

“You won’t catch him.” She shut her eyes.

Her calmness only ratcheted my fury. “What’s his last name?” I asked.

She snapped upright. “No! You’re not going after him. He’ll kill you.”

“You underestimate me. If anyone is going to be killing someone, it’ll be me,” I vowed.

“Booker—” Cole began.

“Great. So then you’ll be in prison. Wonderful alternative to being in a grave.” She rubbed her head and dropped back to the mattress with a groan.

“Are you alright?” I stooped over her, stroking the choppy strands of hair from her face.

“Please promise me you will not go after him,” she begged, her fists wrapped tight in the front of my shirt.

“Tess,” I shook my head. “I—”

“Promise me,” she demanded.

For the first time since my family’s brutal murders—I lied. “I promise.” She sighed softly and released my shirt.

Cole’s eyes narrowed. He knew. No doubt I’d be getting a lecture when we were out of earshot of Tess. He nodded to the door. I ignored him.

The cops came in, two women I’d worked with over the years, saving me from Cole’s stare down.

Tess reiterated what had happened in the trailer yesterday. After I promised her yet again I’d stay away from her ex, she gave the officers his last name.

You’re about to meet your maker, Garen Johnson.

BOOK: Unbearable
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