Never Let You Go(38)

Get out of my head. Get out. Get out.

The mantra brings me strength, reminds me that it’s a different time, and I’m a different woman. He doesn’t own me anymore. He only wins if I let him scare me. I make myself laugh, force the sound deep out of my belly, harsh and gloating. This is the best you can do?

The laughter dies in my throat.

I grab bedding, blow up our old air mattress, then drag it into the laundry room, near the back door. The floor is concrete, the window single-pane. I climb under my blanket still wearing my sweater, jogging pants, and socks, the knife clutched in my hand, phone under my pillow. Then I stare at the ceiling and wait for morning.



The roads are icy as I drive to the station. I take it slow, my hands tight on the wheel, my foot light on the brakes. I need to watch for black ice, but I keep glancing up at my rearview mirror. The air is cold and damp. The kind of West Coast cold that sinks into the marrow of your bones. The only cure is a hot bath and an even hotter drink, but none of the usual tricks will help me today. I can taste fear in my mouth, want to scrape my tongue to rid myself of it. He was in my house, my goddamn house. He’s probably watching me all the time. He knows about Greg.

We’re going to have to move, but how can we? We’re so happy here. I’ve worked hard to build my business and Sophie loves her friends and her school. There has to be some other way.

The corporal reminds me to call her Parker. “It’s easier,” she says, and offers me a cup of coffee, which I gratefully accept. Her hands are freckled, and I find this comforting for some reason. While she gets the paperwork ready, I study her across the table. She looks athletic, healthy. She reminds me of someone I could’ve gone to school with. A small-town girl who played baseball, got into trouble on the weekend with her friends, but came out okay. I wonder why she wanted to be a cop. Her father was a cop? Maybe her brother? She probably has a husband and two ginger-haired kids. I bet they want to be just like her when they grow up.

“So tell me about your relationship with your ex-husband?”

“He was very possessive—he had cameras all over our house, I had to text him constantly, he controlled everything I wore, all our finances, and he was a mean drunk. But everyone else thought he was wonderful, including my own parents.” My throat is tight and achy and my eyes sting. I have to stop and catch my breath. I wish she wouldn’t look at me so kindly.

“It’s okay,” she says. “I know how difficult this is. Take your time.”

She makes notes while I explain about Andrew’s jealousy, his violent temper. “When I told him I wanted out of our marriage, he threatened to bury me in a hole at his job site. He said he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from hurting me—he loved me too much to let me go. I’m sure he was in my house.” I tell her about the book on the side of the tub and the magazines.

“Could anyone have seen him entering? Maybe a neighbor?”

“I don’t think so. We’re surrounded by trees.” I’d loved the old farmhouse appeal of the house, the apple orchard on either side, the forest that stretched for miles.

“Has he mailed you any threatening letters?” Parker says. “Or left voice mails or e-mails?”

I shake my head. “Only time I’ve spoken to him was outside the bank on Wednesday.”

“You said he was violent when he was drinking?”

“At first it was just shoving, or twisting my wrist. He liked to break my things. But then he … he choked me one night. I almost passed out. If my daughter hadn’t woken up I think I would be dead.” I touch my neck, rubbing at it as though that will take away the memory.

“You didn’t press charges?”

“I was too scared.”

“What about your daughter? Did he ever hurt her?”

“No—he was a great father. I tried to make sure she didn’t witness any of our fights, but she saw him push me into a coffee table one night. I had some horrific bruises.” I lean forward. “He made it clear over and over again what would happen if I ever left him. In his mind, he owned me. No one else could even look at me. If I smiled at someone, he was enraged. I’m dating someone and he knows about it and that’s going to send him through the roof.”

She looks down at her paperwork, her face thoughtful. Then she meets my eyes. “I’m going to forward this report to the Crown counsel and ask for the peace bond. If they agree there is a threat, they’ll issue a summons for Andrew to appear in court.”

“How long does it all take?”

“We have to find him first to deliver the summons, then it will depend on whether he tries to fight it or not. That will make things a lot more complicated.”

Andrew would enjoy making me face him in court. I will have to be prepared for him to fight this. Even if this doesn’t work, he needs to know I’m not going to look the other way.

“What will the peace bond cover?”

“He won’t be able to have any contact directly or indirectly with you, he has to stay five hundred meters from your residence or workplace, and he has to surrender any weapons. We can’t stop your daughter from interacting with him if she wants to see him, but he won’t be allowed to try to communicate with you through her or go to your home.”

“She doesn’t want to see him.” I have to tell Sophie when she gets home from school. I don’t want to scare her, don’t want her to even think about him, but she needs to know.