by Dori Lavelle
The photos on the wall behind him were still urging me to look at them, but I couldn’t look away from Jude’s face. I needed to see his reactions to my words, needed him to see the naked fear in my eyes.
He came and took my hands in his. I winced as his grip crushed my injured hands. He didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just didn’t care. He yanked me closer to him, still holding my hands tight. I started to cry from pain then, both physical and emotional.
“Haley,” he said. I could smell a mixture of alcohol and coffee on his breath. “It’s your fault. You make me hurt you. I love you so damn much, but you drive me crazy sometimes.” The final word was spoken through gritted teeth. “You left me.” He dropped my hands and wrapped a hand around the back of my head, squeezing so tight I felt the pressure inside my head. He pressed his forehead to mine and closed his eyes. I kept mine open, still aware of the pen knife in his free hand. What if he stabbed me right now? No one would ever know because he had done an awesome job with keeping me isolated. No one would come looking for me. Not even Diana because she probably thought I was somewhere safe by now.
“Why did you do it?” he whispered. “Why did you make me hurt you? Why did you make me hurt you enough to make you want to leave me?”
“I … I don’t know.” I sobbed. I had no idea who I was when I was with him, didn’t know what had triggered his outbursts, didn’t know how to protect myself from his blows. I didn’t know anything anymore.
He unglued his forehead from mine and shoved me back so hard I fell back to the floor on my butt. “You fuckin’ whore,” he barked, flames of anger exploding in his eyes. “You good-for-nothing fuckin’ cunt. You wanted to sleep with other men, didn’t you? What’s his name?”
“I … No. Who?” I covered my face with my hands, catching the tears. My mind drifted to our anniversary lunch. Had he seen Dustin? Even if there was nothing between us, Jude would have seen what he wanted to see.
“The man you were running off to be with?” He closed the pen knife and shoved it back into his pocket.
I looked up at him, vigorously shaking my head. “Honest to God, Jude. I didn’t have … I would never cheat on you.”
“Liar, you stupid, stupid liar.” His face grew puce with anger and his eyes bulged out of his head. “Tell me his name or I’ll cut your throat right now. Then I’ll hunt him down and kill him as well. Maybe I’ll bury you both in a ditch somewhere so you can rot together.” He paused. “When you try to turn your back on me, Haley, people get hurt. Remember that.”
I swallowed hard as tears poured down my cheeks and mixed with some of the snot coming out of my nose. “Jude. Really. I never. I’ll never …”
He stopped pacing and came to tower over me again. “Want to see what I do to lying, cheating whores?” He grabbed me by the hair again. Would I even have any hair left after his torture? I scrambled to my feet quickly. He released his grip and shoved me toward the wall I had seen from where I had been sitting. I felt dizzy for a moment, but I begged my body not to crumble. Not yet.
“Look long and hard, bitch.” He pushed my head into the wall, my sore forehead pressed hard again the glossy photos of the women. The images were so close that my vision blurred. He let me go and I backed away from the wall to a distance that allowed me to see. I was heaving and panting by now, and shivering all over.
“Who?” I managed to let out.
“Thought you’d never ask.” He stood behind me, too close.
One woman? A whole wall for just one woman? The longer I looked at the individual photos of a beautiful brunette with what seemed to be waist-length hair and a spattering of freckles on her nose, the bright blue eyes. In all the photos she wore a silver necklace with what looked to be a diamond infinity pendant.
She looked familiar. And her presence was so strong she could have been in the room. Then it clicked. In a way, she was.
“That’s the bitch that left me first.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
I used the back of my hand to wipe the blurring from my eyes. “Your … your mother.” She had to be. Jude had inherited so many of her almost exotic features.
“That’s right. The whore ran off with her pimp. Didn’t care where I ended up, whether I went to bed hungry or slept in rat-infested beds. She never gave a fuck what anyone did to me.”
“I’m sorry.” A vision of Jude as a scared small boy appeared in my mind. I now understood where his obsession that drove him to hold on to someone he loved came from. “Did you see her again?” I wanted to know. Jude had never talked about his family before. Ever. And he had never shown me photos of them, saying they were all dead and he didn’t feel the need to talk about them.
He stepped closer to my back and whispered into my ear. “When the little coward boy finally grew up and lifted himself out of poverty, he went on the search for her.”
I turned to him, feigning sympathy. He must have had a crappy childhood, but after what he did to me, I couldn’t care less. But I had to pretend to care, to understand him. “You found her?”
He grinned and his face suddenly brightened. For a flash of a second, he was the handsome man I had married again. “Yes, I found her all right.” He smirked. “Then I killed the bitch.”
Bile shot up my throat and, before I could stop it, exploded out of my mouth and splashed all over the front of the shirt, the wall and the floor.
I whirled around to face him, a string of fear running down my spine. “Sor …” I retched again and this time the vomit landed on his shoes.
“Fuck,” he said and pushed me away and shook his feet, trying to rid them of the yellow liquid. The stench swirled around us like an unwelcome scent. “Look what you’ve done.” For a moment, I thought he was going to strike me, but he didn’t.
Instead he moved on to another wall.
“Come and see this.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out something resembling a small remote control. He pointed it to another wall and what seemed to be two white sheets parted in the middle and slid open, revealing more photos of his mother. “What are you waiting for?”
My whole body was still trembling, fear swirling around in my body. I couldn’t get the words he’d just said out of my mind. He had killed his mother? Was it the truth or was he just trying to scare me? I moved over to where he stood and forced myself to look.
This was another woman who looked very much like his mother. As she smiled into the camera, her blue eyes twinkled.
“This,” Jude traced a finger along a photo of the woman on the beach, the wind blowing her hair across her shoulders. “This is the second whore that tried to leave me.”
I blinked, dreaded his next words. My whole body was numb.
“This is Lorea, my first wife.” He turned and was obviously pleased to see the surprise on my face. “Yes, darling, there was someone before you.”
As I digested the information that my husband had been married before and didn’t think it important to tell me, he spun around to the wall again and punched it, punched her straight in the face. “After five years of marriage, the bitch tried to run off with another man.” He laughed again, shaking his head. “Her reason for running was the same lie you told me. She was afraid of me. After everything I did for her, after all the love I showered her with.” He rubbed the knuckles of his hand. “Just like you.”
“Oh my God.” I shook my head slowly, ignoring the headache creeping up on me. “What did you do, Jude?”
He breathed in and out, his shoulders rising and falling. “I did what I had to do. No one leaves me. Anyone who tries ends up six feet under.”
I crumbled then, dropped to the floor, my knees hitting the wood. My body folded as I wept. What had I gotten myself into? Why did I have to end up in a murderer’s path? He let me cry until I was exhausted and empty. Then I saw his vomit-stained feet come to stand in front of me. I looked up. A smile had softened his face.
“The night I met you was the best day of my life. I’d been foll
owing you for months and then finally, my chance came. You finally fell right into my lap. I couldn’t let you go. I wanted to keep you, to own you forever. I’ll never let you go.” He closed his eyes, sighed, and opened them again. “I love you enough, Haley, to give you another chance. If you try to leave me again, if I even suspect that you’re up to something, you’ll end up right where those two are. Or I’ll call the cops on you and tell them what you did.”
My road had finally ended. I was headed nowhere but toward death. If I stayed with him, I would die inside. If I left, I’d end up dead too. Jude was sick and obsessed. How do you fight against a sick man, a man who was so damaged he wouldn’t think twice before taking another person’s life?
“How did you find me?” I asked even if it didn’t matter anymore. Nothing did.
“I own this town. Almost everyone who came in contact with you is on my payroll. Even the taxi driver who drove you to your wonderful friend Diana’s place. I was in Serendipity even before you, thanks to the tracker in your phone.”
All warmth left my body and I closed my eyes as I dreaded asking the next question. One last question before the handcuffs clicked. “Diana?” My words tumbled out in a broken whisper.
“I paid her to be your friend. Everyone has their price. A struggling mother with mounting debts and bastard mouths to feed wasn’t hard to buy. I paid off her debts in one day, and offered her more money than she made in two years.”
“The luxury apartment.” I was in so much shock I didn’t even realize I’d spoken the words aloud. She had lied.
“Yes, that’s right. That whole apartment building is mine.” He took my hand and held it up to his lips. “Forget what happened. You’re back now. Just don’t try this nonsense again. I have eyes everywhere. And I don’t have a conscience when it comes to punishing those who betray me.”
I sank to my knees and wept for a long time until I could only heave.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
His hands slipped underneath both my armpits and he lifted me to my feet. With no energy left, and aching all over, I couldn’t stand. He didn’t care. He dragged me out of the room, through his office, and up the stairs as if I were a rag doll. I felt every bump, every scratch on my naked skin, until we entered the bathroom where he lifted me and attempted to lower me into a tub filled to the brim with water.
Thinking he was about to drown me, fear surged through me and I found a hidden resource of energy and fought against him, kicking and screaming and clawing at the air. As usual, I was no match for him. He didn’t even break a sweat as he managed to settle me into the suds. As the water surrounded me, I was still screaming and kicking, sending water splashing everywhere.
He slapped me hard across the face, and I stilled.
“Shut up,” he said through his teeth as he tightened his grip under my arms. “I’m not going to kill you. Not yet.” He reached for a sponge and threw it at me. “You stink. Wash yourself and come downstairs for lunch.”
Nodding, I took the sponge and noticed the burns on the top of my hand. They were not as big as I thought they would be, but my brain remembered the hot oil pouring onto my skin and the pain followed. I bit it back.
Jude left the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Finally alone, I did the one thing I desired most. I turned on the tap and drank until I could no longer squeeze a drop into my stomach. With quenched thirst, some of my strength returned. Then somehow, with a broken finger and a burnt hand, I managed to wash my face and rest of my body.
Climbing out of the deep, massive bath was a struggle that landed me on the thick bath mat.
I pulled a gown from a rail and pulled it on. Then I looked myself in the mirror. I saw a different woman, a battered women with a fat bruise under one of the red, swollen eyes, and pale skin. How could he do this to me? How could he claim to love me and hurt me this way? I couldn’t let him do this to me again. Now that I knew what he was capable of, that he was a murderer, I had to do everything he wanted. I couldn’t be his next murder victim.
***
He was sitting on our bed when I entered the room, a white first aid box next to him.
He asked me to sit so he could treat my burns and put a splint on my finger. Then he led me downstairs to the dining room. The table was laden with all kinds of food.
“I ordered it all for you. You must be hungry.” He pulled out a chair for me and I sat without a word, my eyes not leaving the pork chops. I couldn’t wait to stuff my face.
He didn’t eat, just watched as I piled my plate with food and ate it all. When I was too full to eat anymore, he poured me a glass of sparkling water, but since my stomach was already filled with water from the bathroom, I just cupped the glass with both my bandaged hands and gazed into his evil eyes. “What do you want me to do?”
“Good girl,” he said moving his seat forward. “I like that. You finally realize who’s boss.”
“Yes,” I said because that was what he wanted. Whatever he wanted, he would get. I was too broken to fight him, too scared to get beaten up again before I had a chance to heal, too terrified of death.
“Since you’ve proven to be untrustworthy, a few things are going to change around here.” He poured himself a glass of wine and drank it in one swig. “I gave you the chance to live a good life, and you took it for granted. Now, you will get no more help around the house. I fired Lin and the cleaning ladies yesterday. You will take over all their tasks. You will cook, clean this house, iron my clothes, and carry out all household duties.” He clasped his hands in front of him. “And you will fuck me at least twice a day. You understand?”
I nodded. I didn’t mind cleaning. I had always felt inclined to assist the help, but Jude had not approved. But to clean this whole mansion all by myself would be torture. “Anything else?”
His face grew stony and he looked me square in the eyes. “You will not make contact with anyone. There are two guards outside now, making sure you won’t leave this house unless it’s with me.”
I bit my lip. “How will I go grocery shopping when you’re at work?”
“I’ll be working from home at least ninety percent of the time. If I’m not able to take you, Nolan will. And he will not leave your side.”
“Is that understood?”
I nodded again and swallowed my anger—anger at him, and anger at myself for getting myself into this mess. He would be keeping me as his slave now and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
He pushed back his chair and stood. “Another thing.” He blinked. “You will no longer have a phone or a laptop. You won’t be needing them. I installed new locks as well. If you need to go outside for any reason, you ask me for the key.”
“I understand.” I wished I could tell him to fuck off, but I wasn’t stupid. I was completely at his mercy. He was a murderer who didn’t even think twice about killing his own mother and wife. I wouldn’t give him a reason to snuff out my life as well. The only way I could leave this house was if I killed him first. But I wouldn’t be able to handle another death on my conscience.
“Go on,” he said. “Go and clean my room of your vomit. My mother’s photos are in there you know. And don’t try to do anything stupid. Whatever you do, I have my eye on you.”
When he left the room, I dropped my head in my hands and wept for the life I’d had before, the life I had taken for granted. I wept for the woman I used to be. What would become of me now? How long did he intend to keep me in his fancy prison?
A little voice inside my head answered my question. He will keep you here until he kills you.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
I survived a week of torture. The physical scars were healing, and I kept my promise to Jude.
Today he woke me up at 3 a.m. and fucked me. I made him breakfast a few hours later and spent the rest of the day scrubbing the house down. Eight bedrooms, six bathrooms, two living rooms, and the dining room. I cleaned until midday, when the palms of my hands felt like prunes and my
back threatened to snap.
Finally done, I slumped onto the couch with a groan and shut my eyes. The swelling of my left eye had subsided after three days but when I looked closely, I could still see the bruising, which I covered well with concealer because Jude didn’t want to see it, didn’t want, perhaps, to be reminded of what a monster he was.
He hadn’t beaten me since the day he let me out of my jail cell. Not physically at least. His blows focused now on where it hurt most. They shattered me from within.
He knew that a single word could do more damage than a kick in the stomach. Making me feel small and worthless was his mission now. Wounds healed, bones reset, but damage done within could last forever. The cuts were driven much deeper.
“Haley?” Jude called from the kitchen. I jumped to my feet and blood rushed to my head, making me dizzy.
“Yes.” I picked up the bucket and hurried out of the living room.
He stood in front of the sink, holding a bowl in his hand, the one I’d eaten cornflakes in earlier. His eyes were narrowed to glowing flints.
“Why is this here?” He lifted the bowl higher, dangling it between finger and thumb, milk dripping to the floor I’d just scrubbed.
I lowered the bucket of cleaning supplies to the floor next to my feet and straightened up. “I meant to rinse it after I finished—”
“Meant to doesn’t cut it,” he bellowed. “Lin never left a plate or bowl unwashed.”
“It’s only one bowl,” I muttered, and instantly clamped my mouth shut. The words were not meant to be said aloud.
“You just don’t learn, do you?” In a flash Jude lifted the bowl and threw it at me. I ducked before it hit my face. It smashed against the wall behind me.
“Clean up here and go and get washed up. I have a potential business partner coming over in an hour.” He pushed his hands into his pockets. He was back to being impeccably dressed. “For God’s sake, put a damn smile on your face. Stop fuckin’ sulking all the time. Life is not that bad. You have it better than most.” He walked out and a moment later, I heard him slam the door to his office.