by J. L. Perry
“I’m not going to have to see him?” she asks as soon as Matt leaves after seating us in one of the interview rooms.
“No. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Thank you,” she says, giving me a half-hearted smile. I hate that she has to go through this, but it’s necessary.
She can’t seem to sit still in her seat, and the longer we wait, the more agitated she becomes. “I’m going to see what’s taking so long.” I stand. The sooner I can get her out of here, the better.
“Don’t leave me here alone. Can I come with you?” The vulnerability I see in her eyes hits me straight in the chest.
“Sure.”
We only make it into the hall when we are approached. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I was just going over the evidence you brought with you.” His gaze moves to Morgan and he gives her a sympathetic look.
“That’s fine,” I say.
“Oh, sorry, how rude of me.” He extends his hand to me. “My name is Sebastian. I’m the police prosecutor.”
“I’m Ryan, and this is Morgan.”
After shaking her hand also, he gestures toward the room we just came from. “Shall we?”
He places the folder he was carrying down on the table. “Mr Henderson is a bit of character,” he says. “A Jekyll and Hyde. I sat in on his interview earlier. He came across very cool, calm and collected—a real charmer.”
“He’s far from charming,” I retort, annoyed.
“That’s what I mean. Just watching him during the interview, you’d never guess he has a rap sheet as long as my arm. I’ve been in this job for a long time. As you know,” he says, focusing his attention on me, “you can usually see through the lies, or at the very least, the body language doesn’t quite match up with what they’re saying. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think we had the wrong guy.”
“He’s a master manipulator,” Morgan says.
“I’ve worked that one out. Sometimes the psychotic ones can be the most calculating. You did the right thing by getting away from him. He’s bad news. He had his first brush with the law when he was only fourteen years old. He spent a year in juvenile detention for stabbing his younger brother with a pair of scissors while he slept.”
“Jesus,” I say, and I notice Morgan doesn’t respond, but the colour drains from her face. I reach for her hand under the table. “So, where do we go from here?”
“He’ll stay in the cells for another night, and will face the magistrate first thing in the morning. I’m hoping to get bail denied, but depending on the judge we get, it could go either way.” I know that story all too well. “I’ll also be requesting a temporary domestic violence order effective immediately, just until we can get something more permanent in place.”
“What does that mean?” Morgan asks.
“It means he won’t be able contact or come near you,” I say. But at the end of the day, it’s only a piece of paper, not a guarantee. I don’t tell her that part though. Hopefully he gets locked up and there’ll be no cause to worry in the interim.
It’s just after 1 a.m. when our plane lands at Williamstown airport in Newcastle. It’s been a very long day for us both, and I’m pretty sure Ryan is just as exhausted as I am.
We walk in silence towards the parking bay. I’m too tired to even talk.
He stops at the pay machine, pulling the ticket out of his pocket and inserting it.
“Let me pay for the parking,” I plead, reaching for my backpack that is slung over his shoulder. He insisted on carrying both our bags when we disembarked the plane. I’m not used to his thoughtfulness. Sure, I’ve had other boyfriends before Wade came into my life, but they were nothing serious. Wade was the first person I actually lived with, and quite possibly the last. “You haven’t let me pay for anything today.”
“I can claim it all through work.”
“Even the food you refused to let me pay for earlier?”
He chuckles at my response. “No, that comes out of my own pocket.”
“Ryan, I appreciate everything you’re doing for me, but I’m not a freeloader. I’ve always paid my own way in life.”
“I know,” he says, reaching for the parking ticket and receipt once the machine spits them back out. “Come, let’s get you home. You need some sleep.”
Home? “I don’t have a home,” I remind him.
“You have a home in Paterson. Mum said you’re welcome to stay with her for as long as you want, until you find something more permanent.” He drapes his arm over my shoulder, tucking me neatly into his side as we head to his car. It’s a simple gesture, but I love it nevertheless. This will probably sound pathetic, but he makes me feel special. “There’s also a spare room at my place that you’re welcome to use.”
“That’s really sweet, but I’ve disrupted your life enough.”
“I feel like you’ve enriched my life more than disrupted it,” he says.
I see a touch of hurt in his eyes as he opens the passenger side door for me. “Thank you,” I say, I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.
“You’re welcome.” He gives me a smile before closing my door.
I swear he has the kind of smile that could melt your panties right off. He’s not only sinfully good looking, but kind, loyal, and hard working—all the attributes I’d want in a man. It makes me wonder why he’s single. My eyes follow him as he walks around the front of the car, before climbing into the driver’s side.
He’s watching me intently as he pulls his seatbelt over his shoulder, so my gaze moves down to my lap. I don’t want to see his reaction when I say this. “It’s probably just best for everyone if I move on, Ryan.”
“Move on to where, Morgan?”
“My original plan, Tasmania, I guess,” I say with a shrug. In my heart I already know I’ll never find the happiness I’ve found since being here.
“What’s waiting for you in Tasmania?”
“A fresh start.”
“You can get a fresh start anywhere. You can have a fresh start in Paterson.”
“The further away I am from my old life, the better.”
I still can’t bring myself to look at him. I know if I do, it will be my undoing. I’m fighting so hard to leave, when my heart is screaming for me to stay.
“Your old life is always going to be a part of you, no matter where you are. Memories are one thing you can’t run from. Trust me, I know.”
I exhale a large breath because I know he’s right.
“Look at me, Morgan,” he says, placing his finger under my chin and turning my face to meet his. His touch is just as gentle as it was the first time he did that. “Stay.” There’s a pleading look in his beautiful blue eyes as they lock with mine. “Please. I don’t want you to leave. I know we’ve only known each other a few days, but I honestly do care about what happens to you.”
Tears sting my eyes because my self-loathing won’t let me believe I’m worthy of such kindness.
“I’m not your responsibility, Ryan.”
“I know that. I want to keep you safe, but that’s not the only reason I want you to stay.” He shrugs before continuing. “I like having you around.”
“I like having you around too,” I admit.
“Then don’t go. You have a place to stay, a job if you want it, friends. You have nothing in Tasmania except the bitter cold. I’ve heard it’s freezing down there.”
His words make me laugh. “I’m really not a fan of the cold weather.”
I see the corners of his lips turn up into a smile. “It snows in Tasmania too. I can’t believe you’d consider a place like that over the beautiful sunny countryside.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Constable Mitchell.”
“What can I say, Miss Abraham? I can be very persuasive in order to get what I want, and what I want is for you to stay.”
“Do I really have a choice? If I say no, you’re liable to fabricate more issues with my car so you can slap another defect on it.”
He throws back hi
s head and laughs. “In my defence, your tyres were bald, but I reckon if I look hard enough, I’m bound to find more problems.”
Reaching across the centre console, I playfully slap his leg. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me,” he says, but I can hear the humour in his voice. He places the key in the ignition and starts the engine. “So, it’s settled, you’re staying right?”
“I guess I am.”
“Good.”
I’m pretty sure the smile on his face matches mine as he reaches for my hand, interlocking our fingers. He usually holds my hand for comfort or reassurance, but this time it’s different—more intimate. I like how it makes my stomach do a flip-flop. I don’t know where things are going between us, but I’m actually excited at the prospect of sticking around to find out. I’m not ready to jump into another relationship—I need to heal from my last one first—but in time, I hope something can become of this.
Although I’d never want to relive my time with Wade, in a strange way he did me a favour. Without his actions, I never would’ve ended up in this town, and I never would’ve found my saviour, and what I hope may one day lead me to my happily ever after.
Three months later
“What’s going on between you two?” Sally asks, the moment Ryan leaves the café.
“Nothing. He was just here for lunch.” She gives me an inquisitive look, like I’m hiding something.
“Every time you have a shift, he comes in to eat. I never see him on your days off.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, trying to hide my amusement. “It’s probably just a coincidence.”
“Huh,” she huffs. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other.” She playfully pushes my arm. “Come on, spill.”
“There’s nothing to tell.” I pick up the plate from the table where Ryan was just sitting and walk past her into the kitchen. I can hear her footsteps behind me, so I know she’s following me. I love her to death, but I’ve noticed since I started working here that she thrives on the towns gossip. She’s always in everybody’s business.
My phone dings in my pocket, and my heart starts to race. Ryan is the only one who sends me messages. I really look forward to them. Staying here in Paterson is the best decision I’ve ever made. I’ve never been so happy. Something special is blossoming between Ryan and me, but I’m not about to tell Sally that.
I’m smiling as I pull my phone out, but become puzzled when I see it’s from an unknown number.
I’m coming for you, bitch!
I drop my phone to the floor, as my entire body starts to shake. How can this be happening? He was sentenced to two years, with the possibility of parole in eight months’ time if he behaved. It’s only been three months. He couldn’t be free already. The thought makes me sick to my stomach.
“Jesus,” Sally says, as she bends down to pick my phone off the floor. “Are you okay? You’re as white as a ghost.”
I shake my head in response because I’m unable to string two words together in this moment.
There’s confusion on her face as she looks down at my phone. The message is still displayed on the screen. “Who sent you this? Ryan?”
I shake my head again. Ryan would never send me a message like that.
“Then who?”
I’m still unable to reply, but I know the penny finally drops the moment her eyes widen.
“Your ex?”
Tears fill my eyes the moment Sally pulls me into her arms. It has to be from him. Who else would send me a message like that?
“Is he out?” she asks, releasing me and clasping a hold on my shoulders. “I thought he got longer than that.”
“So did I,” I reply, wiping my tears away with the back of my hand. I was hoping my past was going to stay in the past, but I guess I was wrong.
“You need to call Ryan.”
I shrug my shoulders, even though I know she’s right. Things have been going so well for us lately—I don’t want to jeopardise that. On the other hand, he needs to know. If Wade shows up in Paterson, Ryan and Claire could also be in danger. Possibly even Sally. If I’m not at work, I’m with Ryan or home with Claire. I’m still living there. We’ve become very close, and she’s like a surrogate mother to me now.
“I’ll tell him tonight,” I say. I just need time to wrap my head around it all.
“No, Morgan, you’ll call him now. What if you ex is already in town?”
“And what if he’s bluffing? He used to say things like that to scare me all time, but mostly they were just idle threats. It was his way of keeping me in line.” I turn and walk back out to the shop floor. I don’t want to get into a conversation about this with her.
“And what if he isn’t bluffing?” she says, following me. “He has no control over you anymore, Morgan. I bet that drives him crazy. He hurt you before, and you’d be silly not to think he wouldn’t do it again, especially now that he has nothing to lose.”
I sigh. I hate it when she’s right.
My mind flashes back to the day I had to face Wade in court. Ryan had tried to convince me to give my evidence via a video link, but I honestly thought facing him and finally standing up for myself was the way to go. I still remember that feeling I got when I was escorted into the courtroom. I felt like I was about to conquer the world, to right all the wrongs that had been committed against me.
My head was held high, and my shoulders were pushed back as I stepped into the witness box and placed my hand on top of the Bible.
‘Do you swear to tell the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?’ the bailiff had asked.
‘I do,’ I’d answered with confidence.
Call it a sixth sense, but I could feel Wade’s eyes boring into me before I even made eye contact with him. All the little hairs on my arms were standing on end as I took a deep breath and sat down.
In the month leading up to the court case, I’d settled into my new life well. Sally had given me a permanent part-time job working at her café four days a week. Claire had offered to let me stay on at the B&B, helping out when I could and contributing towards the utility and food bills in lieu of rent. I was happier than I had been in months. I also felt safe under the constant watchful eyes of Ryan and his mother. I love how much they care for me.
It’s funny how one’s surroundings can help mask your true feelings. My old life felt worlds away, and I finally felt like I belonged, with people who actually wanted me around. I honestly thought I was healing, that I was stronger, braver even. That was until I made eye contact with the accused. I suddenly didn’t feel so courageous. I’m lucky I was already seated, because my legs turned to jelly—my entire body actually. It was in that moment I realised just how damaged I was. One look from him was enough to bring the reality of my past crashing down around me. Thinking about the look he gave me still sends chills up my spine. He wanted to hurt me bad, to make me pay for what I had done to him.
Being incarcerated for the past two months has probably only served to make his anger fester.
“Morgan,” Sally snaps, but when I ignore her by starting to wipe down the tables, she turns and walks away in a huff. Everything she said is true, and I will speak to Ryan when the time is right.
“Are you okay?” I ask Morgan, reaching across the table and resting my hand on top of hers. She hasn’t eaten a bite since my mother placed the food down in front of her, instead choosing to push it around on her plate for the past five minutes.
When I left her at lunchtime, she was her usual happy self—a far cry from the nervous and troubled beauty who sped into my life a few months ago. Country life seems to agree with her, but she’s been off since I picked her up from work. She barely spoke two word all the way home, which is unusual for her. I’m used to getting a blow-by-blow of her day, which I love.
I’ve become so used to having her around, and couldn’t imagine my life if she was no longer in it. I feel contented when we’re together and miss her so much
when we’re apart. She makes me want things I never thought I wanted, and that both excites and scares the hell out of me.
“Morgan?” I say, trying to get her attention. I’m not sure if she’s ignoring me, or just totally zoned out. Her eyes lock with mine briefly before moving towards my mother. My heart sinks when she jerks her hand from mine, gazing back down at her plate. Something is going on in that pretty little head of hers, and I intend to find out what. I don’t want her to hide things from me, and to be honest, it’s freaking me out. Isn’t she happy here? I thought she was, but I could be wrong. What if she wants to leave again? With that thought in mind, I stand and reach for her hand again. “Take a walk with me,” is all I say as I tighten my grip and gently tug on her arm.
“Ryan,” my mum scolds. “Let her finish her dinner.”
I’m thankful when Morgan doesn’t protest, standing and following me out of the room. She wasn’t eating her food anyway.
Her delicate fingers are still wrapped in mine as I lead her down the hall and out the front door. I feel bad for being so forceful, but patience has never been one of my virtues. “Talk to me,” I plead, stopping on the front porch and facing her. She stares up at me, but still doesn’t speak, so I take a step closer, cupping her face in my hands. “You want to leave, don’t you?” I hadn’t meant to say that, but the words just came out. Deep down that’s what worries me most. I don’t want to lose her.
“To be honest, I’ve thought about it.” Tears fill her eyes and that only manages to increase my anxiety. Even though it’s what I feared, her words are like a sucker punch to my chest.
My hands fall away from her face. Things were going so well for us, I’d be lying if I said my feelings for her weren’t strong. I thought she was feeling it too. “What’s changed? You seemed happy here, or have the past few months been an act?” My words come out more abruptly than planned, but in my defence, I’m hurt.