“If you ever decide you do want to talk about what he did to you, I’m right here—or you can talk to a female officer, if you prefer.”
“I never said—”
“I know.” Victor nodded. “It’s up to you, Jess. He’s put away. You’re safe from him.”
“I—I can’t believe there were others.” Jess clutched her stomach. If she’d spoken up sooner, would somebody have been saved?
“All before you, except for one that he went back to after you left town.”
“So, what happens now?”
Victor sat back. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I mean—do you arrest me?”
“Arrest you? No, Jess. No. You were a victim. If you’d told us back then, I’m not confident we could have kept you safe. I hate that it’s true, and I hate even more that you knew that. I’m just happy you came back so I could be the one to tell you we got him.”
“So I can—go? Just go?”
He stood up. “Yeah. You can go.” He motioned toward the door as she stood up, then walked behind her. “I’m glad you came in. It’s good to see that you’re—okay.” He looked at her closely as they reached the door. “Are you okay?”
Jess nodded, but pain crossed her midsection when she thought back to Cole’s stony silence last night. She had no idea what was going to happen once she finished here in Smugglers’ Gully, and the thought scared her more than she’d imagined it would.
“I’m getting there,” she finally answered.
“I wish your grandfather could see you now.”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “Me, too. Thanks, Victor.”
As she stepped back out into the sunlight, the damp heat pressed on her shoulders, but she realized she felt lighter than she had in a long time.
Billy was in jail. In jail.
She was safe from him. Safe forever from him.
Now she just needed to deal with Roxie and Luanne.
Chapter 29
Hours later, Jess turned her rental car into Breezy Meadow, feeling like it was suddenly thirteen years ago—fifteen—twenty. The same weeds grew up around the metal sign, the paint was still peeling off the B and the M, the same old rocking chair was sitting on the same decrepit porch on the first trailer on the right. The late afternoon sun did nothing to gentle the sight.
She turned down the gravel driveway toward the back row of trailers, her pulse racing, her hands turning white on the steering wheel. When she made the final turn and saw the trailer she’d grown up in, her foot found the brake pedal.
Could she really pull up in that weed-choked yard? Could she knock on that mustard-yellow door? Could she do any of this?
She sat there for what felt like twenty minutes, knowing very well how many eyes were peering out of the other trailers wondering where this red car had come from, wondering who the stranger was.
But no one came out. She hadn’t expected them to. Strangers in shiny cars were never a good thing in a place like this. They were social workers, they were court-appointed whoevers, they were dealers. Best thing was to hide behind your flimsy curtains in your tin box and wait for them to leave.
Finally she took her foot off the brake and let the car roll slowly toward number 37. She had to do this. She’d survived the police station. It had taken her hours to gather up enough courage to drive across town to the trailer park. But she could do this. She could survive Roxie and Luanne.
As she watched the trailer, though, her confidence wavered. Last night she’d taken the biggest chance of her life, telling Cole the things she’d told him. And it had worked out exactly as she had always feared. She’d scared the bejeezus right out of him, and now he’d never, ever look at her the same way again.
If he ever looked at her at all.
She’d taken that risk, and it had bitten back hard, but the past few days had brought her a strange sort of clarity, an odd sense of peace amidst the chaos and pain—and it had strengthened her. Surrounded by the Whisper Creek family, living for just a week in a place so far from anything she knew, Jess had felt a comfort she’d never found anywhere else.
And even though Cole had been blown away by her revelations—even though he might never be able to think of her as anything but damaged goods—seeing herself through his eyes had given her a strength she hadn’t even known