Vicious Carousel (Suncoast Society #25)(41)

The voiceover continued as the picture changed to another shot of the chain, this time of the locked loop that had been around her ankle, dried blood on the links almost looking like rust. “The suspect has not posted bail yet, and at a bond reduction hearing, a judge denied his request. The victim’s attorney, Edward Payne, has already filed for and received a restraining order for his client.”

The picture changed again, this time showing Ed. “My client has requested, for her safety as well as her privacy, to please be left alone. Even with her attacker in jail, she fears for her safety. She will not be speaking to the media at this time or giving any statements except through me.”

The scene switched once again, to video of the apartment, shot through the kitchen window and showing it empty except for a few stray items lying around. “There were suspicions of something amiss even before this.” Then, an interview with the next door neighbors.

“Yeah,” the man said. “We heard bad sounds sometimes. Almost called the cops a couple of times. But she never spoke to us. She always looked scared. We weren’t home Saturday night. I wish we had been to help her out. We came home and there were police everywhere. I’m not surprised, I hate to say. That guy was never friendly. Few times I saw him and her together, he was ordering her around. But it wasn’t our business, you know?”

Back to the anchor. “Requests for comment from the suspect, made through his attorney, have not been answered.” The camera angle changed, and she looked at it. “A special delivery for a new Tampa mom, whose little bundle of joy decided not to wait, had traffic tied up on the—”

Nolan grabbed the remote and shut the TV off. “Okay,” he quietly said. “That wasn’t so bad.”

Betsy felt like she wanted to scream, to cry, to vomit, but sat motionless.

How many times in the past had a story like that flashed on the TV news, and she’d barely paid any attention to it? Not even ninety seconds, and poof, onto the next story.

Her phone rang, startling her. It was Ed, but she still passed the phone to Ross, who glanced at it before answering. “Yeah. We just saw it…Yes, she did…Okay, thanks.” He hung up and returned the phone to her. “It’ll probably run again at eleven. He tried to talk them into not giving your name, but they wouldn’t make him any promises since it wasn’t a sexual crime.”

What little appetite she’d had before quickly fled as she stood. “I guess I won’t be watching the eleven o’clock news, then. Excuse me, I need to go lie down.”

She softly closed her bedroom door behind her. With the help of her friends the past few days, the bedroom was tidy, as if she’d always lived here. No more hastily stashed piles of items. Everything had a place and was neatly tucked away.

It even felt like home.

That scared her.

She studied the shark’s tooth, where it lay in a small crystal dish on her dresser. The dish had been one of the few things she’d managed to hold onto when she moved in with Jack. It had belonged to her grandmother, and Jack had let her keep potpourri in it. When they’d returned to the apartment that night to grab her stuff before taking her to the ER, it’d been something she’d specifically asked for, besides her photo albums.

Before she’d moved in with Jack, it’d sat in her living room, on the shelf next to her TV, and had held several rocks, shells, and other little small trinkets she’d picked up over the years.

Things Jack had forced her to get rid of because, to him, they were junk.

Things that had been her life, and meaningful to her.

The shark’s tooth was her first new addition to the dish.

Turning, she went to lie down, feeling weary and sad to her very core.





Chapter Fourteen


When it was obvious Jack wasn’t making bail, and no one from the media had tracked Betsy or any of their friends down, the next Wednesday, Tilly signed off from LA on Betsy spending the day alone at the men’s house, if that’s what she really wanted.

It was.

Betsy had known in the beginning she’d needed her friends’ love and support and protection. She now needed some alone time to decompress. She also wanted the day alone to process what she’d talked about with the counsellor the day before.

She had a lot of work to do on herself. Yes, before this, she’d had some relationship patterns that weren’t exactly healthy, even though they’d never led to anything so violent before. She’d pushed people away, and when she’d finally let someone in, she’d let the wrong kind of person in without taking a healthy stand.

Asking Tilly and Eliza to play matchmaker for her was tempting, but Betsy knew she needed to do this work herself.

After the men went to work, ensuring she’d securely locked the door behind them, she went to take a shower. She didn’t even need the shower chair anymore. After she got out, with a towel wrapped around her damp hair, she wiped steam from the mirror and stared at her reflection. While still swollen a little, and bruised, at least now she could completely open her right eye again and see out of it.

The face staring back at her almost looked recognizable again.

Almost.

Tilly had also told her she could take a break for the day from her job search. To spend it taking care of herself, reading, relaxing, even sleeping, if that was what she wanted.