plunging in, but the water looked so inviting, and I felt so filthy and grungy. I couldn’t wait to get the smell of Troy off me. I shrugged out of my coat, let it fall to the floor, and stepped into the warm, soothing water. Resting my head against the back of the tub, I closed my eyes, and for the first time in a year I relaxed, almost. I thought … maybe I was even safe. But was I?
I didn’t want to run for the rest of my life. If I had managed to kill Troy, how long would it take the police to find me? If I didn’t kill him, how long would it take him to find me? I wasn’t sure which situation was better, but settled on the first one. I’d rather go to prison than be subjected to Troy’s abuse again. How did other women deal with it? I’d asked myself that question too many times.
Yes, I knew there were shelters, but as Troy reminded me many times, he’d find me if I ever tried to run , and I knew a shelter or safe house for women would be the first place he would look. I’d read hundreds of stories about abused women. I didn’t think I was anything like them. I was stronger than them—stronger than my mother. Or so I’d thought. Of course, I’d never brought any of those books home. It was better to just read those types of books while at the library, never checking one out. Troy knew everything I did. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he kept tabs on everything I borrowed from the library. I was lucky he would even let me go there every few weeks.
Chapter 11
Jackson
When I came back up with the towels, shampoo, and some clean sheets for the bed, I realized I’d left the front door open a bit. I knocked, but she didn't answer, so I just walked in this time figuring she knew I was coming. The water was running in the bathroom, and the door left ajar with Rufus edged in between it and the door jam. I froze when I saw her soaking in the tub. Suddenly I felt like I was back in high school as a wave of embarrassment swept over me, and I quickly turned away.
“ Ah ... Lena?”
The sound of my voice must have startled her. The water sloshed loudly, and she groaned with pain. “Ouch! I didn’t hear you come in.”
“ Sorry, are you okay? I didn’t mean to startle you. I’ll just leave these towels here on this stool. I brought up some shampoo, and found some conditioner.” I set the towels and plastic bottles down on a chair just inside the door to the bathroom, and turned to walk away. I stopped before leaving, and over my shoulder I said, “Oh, by the way, you might not want to stay in there too long, especially if the water is hot, the hot water isn’t good for the swelling.”
“ Thanks, you’re probably right. It just looked so inviting, but now that I’m in here, I’m not sure I can get up.”
“ Do you need help?” I asked, keeping my back toward her, but sounding a little too eager.
“ No ... um ... yes ... I think I might, but ...”
“ Don’t worry, I won’t look.” I picked up a towel, opened it, and holding it sideways, I walked up to the side of the tub. Keeping my eyes averted, I reached in and wrapped the towel around her while helping her up.
Our eyes met. I kept mine on hers, not wanting her to think I wanted a glimpse of her body. Her one good eye, blue as the deepest part of the ocean, and the other a swollen slit of puffy black and blue, gazed into mine for a few seconds before she glanced down and placed one hand on the towel and the other up to her face in a poor attempt to hide her eye.
“ Thank you. God, I must look horrible.”
“ You’ll heal.” Yeah, she did look awful. Like someone beat the crap out of her, awful. I wanted to trail my finger down the side of her cheek, wishing I could stroke away the pain. Almost as if something or someone took possession of my hand, the tips of my fingers were at the side of her face, ready to find out just how soft her skin might be. But when her mouth opened as though the gesture shocked her, I
I didn’t want to run for the rest of my life. If I had managed to kill Troy, how long would it take the police to find me? If I didn’t kill him, how long would it take him to find me? I wasn’t sure which situation was better, but settled on the first one. I’d rather go to prison than be subjected to Troy’s abuse again. How did other women deal with it? I’d asked myself that question too many times.
Yes, I knew there were shelters, but as Troy reminded me many times, he’d find me if I ever tried to run , and I knew a shelter or safe house for women would be the first place he would look. I’d read hundreds of stories about abused women. I didn’t think I was anything like them. I was stronger than them—stronger than my mother. Or so I’d thought. Of course, I’d never brought any of those books home. It was better to just read those types of books while at the library, never checking one out. Troy knew everything I did. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he kept tabs on everything I borrowed from the library. I was lucky he would even let me go there every few weeks.
Chapter 11
Jackson
When I came back up with the towels, shampoo, and some clean sheets for the bed, I realized I’d left the front door open a bit. I knocked, but she didn't answer, so I just walked in this time figuring she knew I was coming. The water was running in the bathroom, and the door left ajar with Rufus edged in between it and the door jam. I froze when I saw her soaking in the tub. Suddenly I felt like I was back in high school as a wave of embarrassment swept over me, and I quickly turned away.
“ Ah ... Lena?”
The sound of my voice must have startled her. The water sloshed loudly, and she groaned with pain. “Ouch! I didn’t hear you come in.”
“ Sorry, are you okay? I didn’t mean to startle you. I’ll just leave these towels here on this stool. I brought up some shampoo, and found some conditioner.” I set the towels and plastic bottles down on a chair just inside the door to the bathroom, and turned to walk away. I stopped before leaving, and over my shoulder I said, “Oh, by the way, you might not want to stay in there too long, especially if the water is hot, the hot water isn’t good for the swelling.”
“ Thanks, you’re probably right. It just looked so inviting, but now that I’m in here, I’m not sure I can get up.”
“ Do you need help?” I asked, keeping my back toward her, but sounding a little too eager.
“ No ... um ... yes ... I think I might, but ...”
“ Don’t worry, I won’t look.” I picked up a towel, opened it, and holding it sideways, I walked up to the side of the tub. Keeping my eyes averted, I reached in and wrapped the towel around her while helping her up.
Our eyes met. I kept mine on hers, not wanting her to think I wanted a glimpse of her body. Her one good eye, blue as the deepest part of the ocean, and the other a swollen slit of puffy black and blue, gazed into mine for a few seconds before she glanced down and placed one hand on the towel and the other up to her face in a poor attempt to hide her eye.
“ Thank you. God, I must look horrible.”
“ You’ll heal.” Yeah, she did look awful. Like someone beat the crap out of her, awful. I wanted to trail my finger down the side of her cheek, wishing I could stroke away the pain. Almost as if something or someone took possession of my hand, the tips of my fingers were at the side of her face, ready to find out just how soft her skin might be. But when her mouth opened as though the gesture shocked her, I
Similar Books
