I Own You

by Dawn McConnell

  ‘Of course not!’ he said. ‘I just couldn’t take the risk of getting you killed! Your husband is a very convincing man. I had no doubt whatsoever that if we had carried on like before he would have tried to kill you.’

  ‘He did try to kill me,’ I said, quietly. ‘Even after you finished with me.’ So then I told him all about how Stuart had tried to drive our car into oncoming traffic. ‘It’s over now, he knows it,’ I added. ‘I told him I want a divorce.’

  Bryce took my hand and held it to his cheek. ‘I just don’t understand, Dawn,’ he said. ‘How did you end up with this . . . this brute?’

  I shook my head. ‘It’s a long story . . .’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere . . .’

  ‘I want to tell you . . .’ I started, but I could feel myself shaking. It was going to take a lot of courage but I knew I had to do this. I took a deep breath and tried again: ‘I trust you, Bryce, and I want you to know about my past because . . . well, it’s who I am. But it’s hard. I . . . er . . .’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Bryce said gently. ‘I’m here to listen, not judge. Why don’t we relax a little? Take a bath? Maybe once we’re a bit more relaxed, you’ll feel like talking . . .’

  So we both went upstairs and I filled up the large, whirlpool bath with bubbles. As we undressed, Bryce told me he had had a tough year splitting from his wife and it had been particularly hard on the kids who were just nine and twelve.

  ‘We didn’t want it to be too disruptive to their lives, of course,’ he said. ‘And they’re great kids – they really are – but it’s a big adjustment to make and they’re responding to it differently. They live with me in the week and they see their mum on weekends.’

  ‘Does that work?’

  ‘Yeah, well, it’s working at the moment. I’m quite domesticated myself!’ He laughed. ‘You know, I didn’t want to end our relationship when I did but, looking back, it was probably the right thing for my family at the time. I needed to give the kids all my focus and attention.’

  He’s so caring, I thought, as I slipped under the bubbles. I like him so much.

  ‘Now, why don’t you tell me about you,’ he said as he got in beside me. ‘I want to know everything about you. I feel like we’re still strangers. Start with your childhood . . . tell me about that.’

  That made me want to cry straight away. Bryce seemed so gentle, so loving, I knew that it was safe to tell him. So I went right back and I told him about my brother’s abuse, about how I had tried to stop it but I couldn’t. And how this had skewed my view of men and sex. So when Stuart came along, I thought that sex was the way to make him happy. I told Bryce about his false promises, his flattery, the way he had seduced me and, eventually, trapped me with pregnancy. I told him everything, about the years of cruelty, control and mental torture Stuart had put me through; about how years of embarrassment and shame had silenced me; about how I had felt imprisoned by my husband, unable to live a normal life. Bryce held me the whole time and wiped the tears away.

  ‘I just can’t believe it . . .’ he whispered. ‘It’s terrible. So terrible, Dawn.’ I could see he was completely distraught, struggling to hold back his own emotions.

  ‘You don’t have to be scared anymore.’ He spoke resolutely. ‘Because I’m going to take care of you. I’m going to look after you for the rest of your life. I love you Dawn and I’m going to marry you.’

  That night, after we got out of the bath, we went through to the bedroom and for the first time in our whole affair, we didn’t have sex. We just held each other. I felt weightless, like I was floating. It was as if someone had cut the chains that had been holding me down all my life and now I was free. I didn’t have to be scared anymore because I had a true friend by my side. An ally. Someone who loved me without ulterior motives; someone who loved me, no matter what.

  ‘You’re not alone anymore,’ Bryce whispered in the darkness, and I knew it was true. I had someone by my side to love and protect me forever.

  From that moment, we were inseparable. Bryce knew the real me now, and he knew the risks involved in being together. But he was willing to face it all. This was not some superficial infatuation anymore, it was deep love and Bryce showed me how a real man treats a woman. He cooked me special meals and, if Stuart was away for any time at all, he whisked me away for a romantic getaway in the country. We would sit cuddled up on the sofa together and he would rub my feet, massage my shoulders or run me candlelit baths. Once we drove up to the countryside and there, in the middle of the forest, was a table laid out with champagne and a delicious meal. In the middle of nowhere! He bought me cards and gifts and never let me pay for anything. I had never met a man like this; I never knew they even existed! He was so loving and caring, it blew my mind.

  But every day we were getting more and more wrapped up in each other; my excuses to my husband were wearing thin. Once, I got back from meeting Bryce to find Stuart waiting for me in the office. He was still following me, turning up unexpectedly when I was meeting friends, trying to keep me in my place. I spun him a lie on the spot about getting an emergency callout from a tenant. But how long could this last? How long before we were caught? Surely, it was only a matter of time. And it wasn’t only Stuart whose fuse was growing short: Bryce and I, too, were impatient for things to come to breaking point.

  ‘I can’t live like this anymore,’ Bryce said one day, six months after we’d rekindled our romance. ‘We have to be together properly . . . No more sneaking around.’

  ‘But how? He’s going to kill me.’

  ‘No, he won’t.’

  ‘He’ll do something terrible. He will. It’s the nature of the man; he won’t be able to stop himself.’

  ‘So we have to be smarter than him. We make a plan and it starts today . . .’

  Chapter 24

  The End

  Smoothing down the creases in my beige linen dress, I checked my make-up in the mirror, threw my keys into my handbag and called upstairs to my husband: ‘Bye! See you later!’

  Then I walked out of my house for the very last time.

  It was 22 June 2008 the day Bryce and I had been planning for months, the day I was finally leaving Stuart – only he didn’t know that. Not yet, anyway.

  Despite the hammering in my chest and my shaky hands, I walked towards my car at my usual brisk pace, not too fast, not too slow, trying not to give anything away. Everything about this day had to be as normal as possible to ensure my safety, which was why I was leaving the house with just my handbag and nothing more. I couldn’t do anything to arouse Stuart’s suspicions.

  Behind the wheel, I glided through the early-morning traffic to my office, where I met the man who was due to take my car. His name was Brian and he was a friend of Bryce’s who owned a farm just outside of Glasgow. Brian’s job was to hide my car in one of his outhouses while I was away. It was too risky to leave the Ferrari where Stuart could find it. He would almost certainly smash it up when he found out I was gone, so the idea was to hide it until the heat had died down.

  Right, part one complete, I told myself, as I watched my Ferrari disappear down the road. Inside the office, I met a very nervous-looking Hannah, who jumped up the moment she saw me.

  ‘You’re still going ahead with it?’ she asked uncertainly. Of course I’d had to take Hannah into my confidence about the plan; I needed her to keep the business ticking over while I was gone. She was the only one who knew the significance of today and she was sworn to secrecy.

  ‘You know I am, Hannah,’ I said sternly. ‘There’s no alternative.’

  After all, it was nearly a year and a half since Stuart had tried to kill us in the car and I’d told him I wanted a divorce. Almost eighteen months on, we weren’t a single step further forward along that path thanks to Stuart’s obstinacy and insistence that I was his. I had to take drastic action to prove to him that I wasn’t – and drastic action to ensure that my new life without him wasn’t a murderously short one.

  I looked at
the clock on the wall – it was 9. 15 a.m. and my flight took off at 2 p.m. I’d be in the office for the next three hours and then the plan was to get a taxi to the airport. Bryce was due to meet me in Cyprus. Tick, tick, tick . . . I was acutely aware of the sound of the second hand on the wall clock as I worked through the emails that had landed in my inbox overnight.

  After a while, Hannah stopped working and leaned towards me conspiratorially.

  ‘Okay, so you’ll leave and then what happens?’ she asked.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, what happens next? He has to be told or he’ll go crazy wondering where you are. Who’s going to tell him that you’ve left?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Do you mind if I tell him? I just think it would be best coming from me.’

  ‘Okay, but wait till the flight’s taken off.’

  We spent the next hour tip-tapping away in complete silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. It had been a strange few weeks, during which time I had gradually emptied my wardrobe of all my most expensive clothes. Each day, I stuffed a couple of dresses and a pair of shoes into my gym bag then I met Bryce on the top floor of various high-rise car parks across town to hand them over. Meanwhile, I was careful to leave the suit carriers and shoeboxes in place, just in case Stuart decided to check my wardrobe. If he opened the door, he would see all the carriers and boxes there as usual and assume they were full. This way, I managed to move my £100,000 wardrobe from my house to Bryce’s.

  At 10.30 a.m., Stuart arrived at the office.

  ‘You look nice today,’ he said as I shot him a questioning look. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not checking up on you. I just need to collect some post.’

  Ever since the incident on the motorway, I had stood up to Stuart and his outrageous behaviour. The way he was always checking up on me – I hated it. In his effort to woo me back, he had promised now to stop making spontaneous visits. Still, old habits die hard and he couldn’t help popping in for the most spurious reasons. It didn’t stop him from trying to check the messages on my phone either, so I locked both my phone and my sim card. So, despite his promises, it was no surprise to see him in the office that morning, and it hardened my resolve that I was doing the right thing.

  Hannah handed him the letters and then glanced at me, guiltily. Keep it together, woman, I urged her in my head. Hannah was clearly struggling with this whole situation. Never mind, just another few hours and I’ll be gone.

  Bryce and I planned to stay in Cyprus for two weeks and then I was due to move into his house, deep in the Scottish countryside. Stuart didn’t know where Bryce lived and there was no way of finding out since he had given his wife the marital home and was renting a house for himself. What a difference between the way Bryce had treated his wife in his divorce to the way Stuart had walked all over Maria! I just hoped that Stuart wouldn’t be able to trace Bryce’s new home. I didn’t doubt that he was capable of carrying out the threats he had made throughout the years to murder me, cut off my hair or throw acid in my face. He was a cruel and vicious bully and I knew he took real, visceral pleasure from inflicting pain on others, particularly me.

  At 12.15 p.m. I closed down my computer and told Hannah I was leaving. I was really nervous now, knowing that Stuart could still be out there, watching the office, just waiting for me to make my move but I didn’t let it show. I kept my cool. What would happen if he knew? Would he stop me getting on the plane? Calm down, I told myself. Just keep calm and it will all be fine.

  ‘Look after yourself,’ Hannah whispered as we embraced.

  ‘Thank you. And Hannah, thank you for doing this. I really do appreciate it.’

  ‘Do you have any idea when you’ll be back?’

  ‘Not right now. I’ll call you, okay?’ A small, brave smile flickered over her features but it failed to mask the real fear in her eyes. She had known Stuart and me for decades, she had practically brought up our son, now everything was changing and she had no idea where it would lead.

  Once outside, greeted by the warm spring sunshine, I breathed deeply to calm my nerves. I quickly scanned the road to see if Stuart’s car was there. No, nothing. So I flagged down a black cab to take me to the airport. My stomach was full of butterflies now and I felt sick with apprehension. Part two complete, I thought as I slammed the car door closed and gave the driver the address, trying to reassure myself. Now I just need to get on that flight.

  I checked the contents of my handbag en route to the airport: purse, tickets, passport. Everything I needed. In my purse I had around £5,000 cash and 2,000 euros; enough, I hoped, to sustain me for the next two weeks. I quietly thanked Stuart for his crooked advice throughout the years. ‘Fly under the radar, never use a credit card,’ he’d said many times. Now that I was doing my own disappearing act, I took his advice. It was cash all the way. I didn’t want him tracking me down while I was gone.

  ‘You know he could freeze all our assets,’ I’d warned Bryce before he took the ferry across to the continent the previous week. He was driving down to Cyprus and had loaded up his car with all the clothes I needed for our trip.

  ‘Don’t worry about money,’ he’d soothed. ‘I can pay. The moment he does anything like that we go to the lawyer. Whatever he does, we’ll face it together.’

  At the airport, I managed to get through check-in and security without any problems. Then: ping! A text message arrived from Hannah: ‘I told him and he collapsed in the office. Can you speak?’

  I looked at my watch – it was still only 1.15 p.m. Why has she told him before the flight has taken off?

  But then I realized: he was in the office. That meant he had called in to check up on me again and Hannah had cracked. If he was in the office, there was no way I was going to speak to either of them.

  I decided not to reply. Instead, I headed to the first-class lounge, where I poured myself a large Scotch on the rocks, which I knocked back in one go. It burned like fire all the way down but it was just what I needed.

  Ping! Another text message: ‘He’s threatening to kill himself. I’ve called Bill to come and collect him. Can you talk?’ Again, I decided to ignore the fact that he had had to call her husband. It was 1.25 p.m. – just another thirty-five minutes to go.

  Now I took a seat in one of the plush leather armchairs opposite the runway and flicked through a copy of Grazia magazine. The words swam meaninglessly before my eyes; I couldn’t take anything in. I was restless and impatient to board the plane. All I wanted now was to get out of the country as quickly as possible. Every time the door to the lounge swung open, I spun round to see if it was Stuart. My heart was doing somersaults every thirty seconds so I got up and poured myself another Scotch. Come on, come on: I stared manically at the clock on the wall, willing the time to go quicker. At 1.40 p.m., my phone pinged into life again. This time, it was Stuart.

  ‘You think you’re clever? You’ve got an hour to get back here or one of you will be killed. And I mean it. I was sad when Hannah told me you’d left but now I’m happy because this is just the start! If you leave me I will transfer everything to my name and you will have nothing. Nothing!’

  I read the text again – it was what I had come to expect from Stuart but even so, it frightened me. At that moment, the tannoy announced my flight to Larnaca and I got up, still scared but more determined than ever. You can threaten me all you like, Stuart, but you don’t own me. And you can’t make me do anything anymore. It’s over. I turned off my phone and went through to take my seat.

  It wasn’t until the plane had trundled down the runway and lifted into the air that I found myself breathing out properly for the first time that day. Relief flooded my body. He can’t get me now. I’ve done it. I’ve escaped! My phone was switched off for take-off, but as soon as the captain gave us permission, I turned it back on again. Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping! The messages came thick and fast.

  ‘I’ll kill you both.’

  ‘Your life isn’t worth living.’


  ‘I’ll throw acid in your face and disfigure you so badly no man will want you.’

  About an hour into the flight, the tone shifted.

  ‘Just come home. Please.’

  ‘If you come back I’ll forgive you everything.’

  ‘Please just come home and we’ll talk.’

  ‘I love you. Dawn, I can’t live without you.’

  By the time we started our descent to Larnaca airport, I was relieved to turn off my phone again. I didn’t know how much more I could take. It was the same old controlling tactics Stuart had always used, but they had worked for a long, long time – and with good reason. They were scary.

  So, once I was off the plane, I practically ran through the arrivals hall and threw myself into Bryce’s arms.

  ‘You made it!’ He grinned, looking relaxed and tanned from a week of sunshine. ‘I knew you would.’

  ‘He’s been texting all afternoon,’ I garbled. ‘Threats, awful threats, threats to kill me, to kill you, begging, pleading, promises. You name it, he’s said all sorts of stuff. Come on. Let’s go to the car and I’ll show you.’

  Once in the privacy of his car, I showed Bryce all the texts.

  ‘Hmmm.’ He scrolled through them, looking increasingly concerned. ‘You know we could go to the police with these? They’re threats on our lives.’

  ‘And make him even more angry?’

  ‘Well, maybe we could get a restraining order?’

  ‘From a few angry text messages? I don’t think that’s going to stick.’

  ‘Well, for now let’s just stay in Cyprus until the dust settles a little. We’ve got all the time in the world so let’s just enjoy ourselves. Come on, I want you to meet my family.’

  Bryce’s sister was holding her fortieth birthday celebrations in a small coastal village about four hours’ drive from Larnaca and we were booked into a lovely hotel overlooking the harbour. It was wonderful to meet all of Bryce’s family and touching that he was so keen to show me off, but I couldn’t fully relax. Stuart was constantly phoning and leaving voice messages and when I spoke to Hannah, she seemed really upset.