complimented her, took her to nice restaurants, and asked the right questions. That lasted about two years. Then they graduated and he asked her to move to his hometown of Tarpon Springs, and, like a lovesick puppy, she followed him. As soon as they arrived in town, things began to deteriorate. He’d always been jealous, but not in a scary sort of way.
His uncle, who had raised him, was the mayor of the town, and Dennis always aspired to be like him. The higher Dennis got on the political totem pole and the more he rubbed noses with the elite, the nastier he became. It was a combination of jealousy and envy: jealousy over anything that Jessica did or anyone who looked at her, envy of the people he was spending time with. He wanted what he didn’t have: political power, money, and fame. He wanted a wife at home doing all the perfect domestic things a wife of a prominent politician should be doing. That was not what she had signed up for, and that was not the kind of woman she was.
As time went on, he tried to control her. First it was small things, like suggesting she quit her job. Then it was bigger things, like making her stay at home while he went out to schmooze. He bought her the clothes he wanted her to wear, and they only went to the places he wanted to go. With this change of behavior came the arguments. At first it was just yelling and a poke at her shoulder with his finger. Then it evolved to a small push. Then a big push. Then he began to manhandle her, pulling her or dragging her around. But never had he blatantly hit her. Not until the night she confronted him about not pressing charges against Slade.
“Rum and Coke, please…Hello, ma’am?” A customer’s voice startled her out of her thoughts.
“Honey? You okay? Why don’t you go on home?” Patsy asked once again.
Jessica jumped up, and began to fumble for the rum. “Sorry, I was just daydreaming. I’m fine,” she said, flustered, as she mixed the drink. Luckily, a big group walked in and all of them sat at the bar. For the rest of her shift, Jessica was slammed with work and had no time to think, and Patsy and Jett didn’t have time to baby her again.
By four in the afternoon, when she arrived home, Jessica was bone tired. She decided to take a quick nap before she got ready for her date with Slade. That was the last thought she had before face-planting onto her bed.
—
Slade hadn’t heard from Jessica all day. He’d called and texted her a few times, but she hadn’t responded. He had planned on going home to shower and get dressed before picking her up for dinner, but he was too worried. He’d called the Pier and Patsy had told him that Jessica had gone home about two hours ago after what turned out to be a very busy day at the bar. When she didn’t answer again, he decided to go to her house and check up on her. His mind was racing. Could she have had a car accident? Had Dennis gotten to her? Was she sick? By the time he arrived at her house, he was a combination of worried and mad. He got even madder when he saw her car parked in the front. Was she just not answering his calls? Had he done something wrong? Since when did he care this much, and why was he feeling so insecure? All these thoughts just added fuel to his mounting agitation.
He rang the bell and then knocked. No answer. When he was about to lose his mind, a sleep-tousled Jessica, still in work clothes, opened the door abruptly. She had her hand over her chest as if startled. “Slade? Oh my God, you scared me to death with the knocking. I almost fell off the bed!”
“Where the hell have you been?” He walked in, forcing her to move out of the way.
“What time is it?” She closed the door behind him, then yawned and rubbed her eyes.
“It’s past six. I’ve been calling you for hours.”
“You have?” She walked to the living room, where she found her purse and began to rummage through it.
“Why didn’t you—”
“I…was slammed at work…and then I came…home and…must have fallen…asleep,” she told him, her breathing harsh and labored.
Slade reached out his hand and led her to the