marriage, opting to solve those problems with me at home rather than draw attention from the public. It kept him out of jail even though his other criminal behaviors landed him there more than once before he went to prison.
“What happened the first day he came home? Did you ask him to leave? Did you tell him he wasn’t welcome? Did you file for divorce while he was locked up?”
The questions rain down on me but explaining to this man that I’d planned to leave New Mexico long before he was released wouldn’t matter. The fact remains that I was terrified to leave the only home I’ve known since I left Vermont. My friends and job are here.
“We had dinner delivered. He was nice, talked about big plans and the way he changed.”
“And you just accepted it?”
Both Rocker and Jinx stiffen beside the bed.
“People don’t change, Detective Matthews.” I lift my head to look him directly in the eye. “I didn’t ask him to leave because I knew he hadn’t changed. I didn’t want to make him angry. I didn’t tell him he wasn’t welcome in my home. I didn’t file for divorce because I thought I still had time. When he kissed me after dinner, I didn’t push him away. When he took my clothes off, I didn’t tell him to stop. When he spread my thighs, I didn’t make a sound. When he had to spit on me because I wasn’t aroused, I didn’t make him stop. And when he shoved painfully inside of me, I pressed my face into his neck and tried not to cry because I knew doing so would only make things worse. I learned long ago that Jeremy doesn’t like the word no, only he doesn’t huff and get agitated, he uses his fists to express himself.”
Detective Matthews swallows, fire lighting his eyes before he looks away.
“Despite what many people think about abused women, we don’t like getting the shit beat out of us. We’ll do anything to prevent it. We’ll stay. We’ll comply. We’ll love them harder. We’ll enslave ourselves out of self-preservation. We’ll lie there while being used if it makes them happy because most often when they’re happy they aren’t hurting us.”
A long silence fills the room, and Jinx’s hand clenches on my arm, making me aware of his continued support.
“He hurt you tonight.”
“Yes,” I answer. “He went through my phone and discovered that I wasn’t abstinent while he was locked up. He wasn’t happy about it.”
This is a partial truth. This morning I woke up and got sick. Jeremy was comforting, wondering if I had the flu or something. I let him take care of me the best way the man knew how which consisted of him telling me to go back to bed because he couldn’t hear the television over my vomiting. While I was in bed, he went through my phone. I don’t know how long it took him to go through all of my apps, but he’s always been good at keeping tabs on me, and it was early afternoon when he came back in the room demanding I explain the length of time between now and my last period. He jumped to the right conclusion immediately that I was pregnant and there was absolutely no chance it was his. Although I did try to throw him off with lies about new medications that make my period irregular, he didn’t believe me.
“The afternoon started with a couple slaps. He apologized almost immediately, but I knew what was coming. The first couple of times he hit me it was the same. Only this time, I knew he wasn’t going to wait weeks for it to happen again.”
“How many times did he hit you?”
“I lost count. He hit me, shoved me, threw things at me. I’m sure you’ve been to the apartment. All of that damage was done during the struggles as the day went on. It was worse, but he made me clean up once before he started again.”
“So you stabbed him?”
I look to Rocker for support, but his eyes are glued across the room, jaw clenched so tight I could trace the individual muscles in his neck if I were brave enough to reach up and touch him.
“H-he was choking me on the floor. The knife block had been knocked off earlier. I d-didn’t even think. I couldn’t. I just knew I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to lose… I didn’t want to die.”