Becoming Juliet - Paula Marinaro Page 0,52

that you’re scared to shit. And the other thing I know is that you don’t have to be.”

Juliet looked up sharply at him, her expression a frowning question.

P.J. took a deep breath and dove right in. “I won’t let him hurt you. You don’t have to worry about him hurting you. Not ever again. Even if this thing between us doesn’t work out…I know people…”

Juliet pulled back as if she had been struck.

“What did you say?”

“You heard me, Juliet.” P.J. kept his voice steady, his tone calm. Then he nodded as her shaking fingers once again began to twirl the ring that wasn’t there. “I’m guessing that you were married once…maybe still are. And whoever this guy is, he’s still a problem for you. Those scars on the insides of your wrists? That’s one way to escape a bad situation. Running away is another one. Looks to me that you were desperate enough to try both. I know what that kind of desperation feels like.”

“Then maybe you should have slit your wrists, too.” Her tone flippant, her expression miserable. “We could have been roommates.”

“That’s not funny, Juliet.”

“Yeah, see that’s the thing P.J., none of this is funny. And honestly, none of this is your business.” Juliet rose from the table, walked to the window, and stared out into the gloom of the day. The rain had finally slowed to a drizzle, and the storm appeared to be over. But the damage it had caused, that would last for a very long time.

Juliet helped herself to a cigarette from the pack that P.J. had left on the sill, then cranked the window slightly open. With a trembling hand, she lit up and drew deep. Juliet exhaled and watched the trail of smoke flow through the screen and set off to merge with the misty air before it disappeared.

With her back towards P.J., Juliet thought through her options. Her first go to, of course, was to run. To go home, pack a bag and flee for her life. But now, with the roads closed and her car bent, broken, and covered up to its chrome wheels in quick-sand like mud, that was no longer an option. And even if she could, what then? If P.J. could figure her out just by watching her, then there would be others, maybe not as nice as P.J., who would be able to figure it out too. And then, it would all just begin again. And although Juliet had stuck to her promise to Dr. Finkle to practice self-care and work towards a healthy emotional balance, it was not as easy as that.

Dr. Finkle and Juliet still had monthly check ins and he had called just the other day to warn Juliet that Kenny’s second trial date had been scheduled, and to offer her his support through that process. Because Kenny Brewster had killed these girls long before he had met Juliet, she would not be called to testify. However, Dr. Finkle was aware that the trial may garner renewed interest in the serial killer as a whole. Although, the doctor had assured Juliet that her identity was well protected, he wanted to make sure that she would be okay. Which meant that she should keep herself away from the television, and newspaper articles featuring stories about the trial. She had told Dr. Finkle that he had no worries on that account, Juliet had no desire to learn anything more about the murders that Kenny Brewster had committed. But there was still a real possibility that reporters would be interested in finding her, hearing all about what the wife of the serial killer had been doing since the last trial. Juliet wondered if she was safe here. Now, that things between her and P.J. had begun to get complicated, she knew she couldn’t hold him off forever. Juliet wondered if it was time to move on.

Now, Juliet felt P.J. come up behind her. The warm weight of his hands on her shoulders felt like a too heavy blanket. He brushed her hair with his lips and whispered low into her ear “Did you figure it out yet, Juliet?”

“Figure out what?” She sighed deeply.

“Where you’re going this time? How far you can run?”

She turned in his arms, then stepped away from him. Juliet looked at P.J. with surprise.

“Babe, what else would you be thinking?” P.J. arched a brow. Then he added “Listen, before you bolt this time? Before you run away, can you do me a favor?

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