by M. E. Carter
“Thanks for coming with me.” My words are practically a whisper, as if I don’t want anyone to hear me speaking. I know it’s irrational to think that way, but somehow it feels disrespectful to make any noise in this place where people might help me.
“Of course, I’m here with you,” she responds at a much more normal volume. “I wouldn’t leave you to do this alone.”
“I know. But I wasn’t exactly nice when you went with me to my therapy appointment.”
“No, you weren’t,” she agrees, making my stomach churn with guilt. Kiersten has never done anything but try to support me. “But I understood why you were irritable. You feel like everything is out of control right now. I know how frustrating that is. I used to be the same way with Heath and Lauren.”
I turn to look at her more closely. This is news to me. “You were?”
“Oh yeah,” she says dismissively like this is old news. “They would make decisions for me all the time. It drove me crazy that Heath found a daycare for Carson and wanted to pay for it. Like I couldn’t do it on my own.”
“What made you finally stop being pissy about it?”
“I realized I couldn’t do it on my own. My issue wasn’t so much about him doing things as much as my own pride over the fact that I wasn’t able to without them. I needed their help and they were doing it graciously and with no expectation of me ever being able to return the favor.” She shrugs and looks at me imploringly. “It was just because they loved us. When I realized that part, everything shifted. They gave me one less thing I had to stress about and I was able to let it go and just say thank you.”
I give my sister a weak smile and squeeze her hand again. “I get it. Thank you.”
She squeezes back and nudges my shoulder with hers. “You’re welcome.”
We both look up as someone approaches – a female officer stands in front of us, hands on her utility belt. “Nicole Willoughby?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I stand up faster than I intend, forcing her to take two steps back. My eyes widen in embarrassment.
Kiersten immediately stands next to me, although slower than I did, and puts her arm around me reassuringly. “Hey. Calm down. We’re just here for you to ask questions.”
I blow out a quick breath, making sure I don’t hyperventilate. “Sorry. I just… yes, that’s me.”
The officer smiles at us kindly. “I’m Officer Hanson and she’s right. I’m here to help you with whatever it is you’re inquiring about. Care to step into my office?”
I nod a little too quickly but she doesn’t seem put off by my nerves. If anything, Officer Hanson seems used to dealing with nervous women like me. I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or makes me sad that so many of us come to talk to her.
She leads us through a small maze of hallways before taking us into a small office. It seems pretty typical—white walls, small wooden desk with two plastic chairs in front of it, bookshelf off to the right full of manuals and various police trinkets. Shutting the door, Officer Hanson takes a seat in a swivel office chair, not noticing the squeak it makes when she sits.
“How can I help you ladies?” She glances back and forth at us, her eyes eventually falling to me.
I lick my bottom lip before speaking. “I was told you might be able to help me get a protection order against my ex-boyfriend.”
To her credit, Officer Hanson doesn’t so much as flinch, just nods in understanding. “I can definitely give you information about that. Can I ask why you feel you are in danger?”
I suck in a quick breath and glance at my sister who gives me a reassuring nod. “He used to hit me.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Her tone remains unchanged. I had no idea how much I would appreciate that. Most people who find out I used to be in an abusive situation give me looks that can only be described as pity. But she’s treating it very matter of fact. I suppose in her line of work, this is not an unusual conversation.
Officer Hanson grabs a pen off her desk and flips a clean sheet of paper onto her notebook. “Did you ever file a report about the abuse?”
I shake my head, suddenly furious at myself for not taking a stand before. “I was afraid. Partly of him and partly for him.” I glance down at the floor as the realization hits me. “Wow. I never put that together before.”
“Can I ask why you were afraid for him?”
I look back up at her, half expecting her to think I’m an idiot because of my answer. “I knew he’d lose his scholarship and I didn’t want his college career to end because of me.”
Glancing away, I shake my head at my own stupidity. How ridiculous that I let the man who put me in the hospital get away with abusing me because I was afraid for his life. What about mine? Why did I put him first?
“Ms. Willoughby?” My eyes snap back over to the officer, whose expression remains unchanged. “This is nothing to be upset about. Your answer is neither uncommon nor unrealistic in domestic violence situations. Many times, it takes months or even years of being distant from the situation to see things a little more clearly. Domestic violence is tightly wrapped up with emotional abuse. It’s why so many people never get away from their abuser. But you did. That’s the important part.”
Kiersten grabs my hand again and places it on her lap, clasping it tightly. My eyes fall closed and I take a few moments to take a deep breath and refocus on the task at hand.
When I finally look up again, I give her a nod, ready to continue.
Officer Hanson writes something down and begins asking questions. “You said he’s your ex-boyfriend.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“May I have his name and any personal information you have on him?”
I answer as much as I can, which isn’t much—name, birth date, and last known address are all I have. She writes it all down, but the hard part isn’t over. There are still details to share that I’ve never discussed with anyone. Not even my sister.
“I reserve judgment on any case I look into until I gather all the facts, so please don’t think I’m insensitive to the situation. However, if you move forward with this, a judge is going to ask you all this and more. So, I need to know why now? If you aren’t together and haven’t been for a while, why do you think you need protection from him?”
“I moved here to get away from him. I thought he was gone for good, but recently he’s found me. And he’s shown up at my work a couple of times already.”
Her eyebrow moves up a fraction of an inch, but I see it. I’m not sure what it means, though.
“He didn’t know where you had moved?”
“I’m sure he assumed I was with my sister. I mean, my mom knew and she’s… well… let’s just say she’s not very supportive when it comes to going against anyone associated with the ladies at the club.” My lips twist in disgust just saying it out loud. Then I continue. “Anyway, my mom came to visit a few weeks ago and she brought him with her. Now he won’t leave. He comes into the bar where I work to just stare at me. And I saw him at the store. He was with some girl and he just smiled at me like he knew I was afraid.”
I puff out a breath having run out of steam. Officer Hanson, on the other hand, leans back in her chair. She tosses her pen on the desk and settles in. “I’m going to be perfectly honest here. We can file for a protection order, but without any record of you filing charges it’s his word against yours.”
My heart sinks, but Kiersten jumps in quickly. “Well, wait. She didn’t press charges, but he was arrested for assault when he put her in the hospital. The charges were dropped because at the time she was too afraid to testify.”
Officer Hanson leans forward and grabs her pen again to jot down more notes. “You don’t happen to have the case number, do you?”
Kiersten smirks victoriously. “Case number and the contact information of one of the officers who was involved in the case. Would that help?”
“It would help a lot actually. I assume it wasn’t in this county?”
“N
o.” Kiersten continues to answer her questions, handing her a small piece of paper that I assume is everything Officer Hanson needs. “This all happened in a suburb of Houston.”
“And when was this?” Her pen moves frantically across the page.
“About a year ago.”
Office Hanson finally finishes writing and leans back in her chair again, rocking briefly. “Let me ask you a question.” She gives me a pointed look. “Would you be willing to testify against him now?”
I glance at Kiersten, my heartbeat picking up pace, before turning my attention back to her. “I think so. I mean I’d have to think about it for a little bit, but isn’t it too late?”
“Statute of limitations in Texas for domestic assault is three years. If he’s waiting for a trial, your protection order request will hold more weight.”
“Nicole,” my sister says gently, likely recognizing my inner turmoil. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
“I know it’s just… a trial.”
Officer Hanson’s chair squeaks as she leans forward once again and crosses her arms on her desk. “I’m going to level with you, Ms. Willoughby. You said he’s been with some other woman, right?”
I give her a quick nod, not sure what she’s getting at.
“That’s concerning to me. You may have been the first one he hurt, but the statistics show you won’t be the last. I know you have a lot to think through, but this time it’s not just about protecting yourself. This time it’s about protecting other women, too.” She raises her hands defensively. “That’s not to say it’s your responsibility to protect her. It’s not. But if you’re on the fence about it, maybe that’ll give you the information you need to help make your decision.”
I glance away as I process her words. She’s right. Seeing him with another woman freaked me out, not because I miss him but because I know she’s in danger. I know she’s the only one who can make a choice for herself, but there’s something I can do to make sure she has all the information. And not just her, but any woman he puts his sights on.
Taking a deep breath, I turn back to Officer Hanson, mind made up.
It’s time. It’s time I take my life back, and that means I have to take part of his away.
“I’m ready. I want to press charges.”
She taps the table with her fingers. “I’ll put in the call to the arresting officer and get the process started. I have to warn you, the DA may not want to pursue it. But in light of this new information, we have a decent shot.”
“I understand. Whatever you have to do is fine with me.”
“Nicole,” Kiersten says. “Are you one hundred percent sure? No going back.”
“Absolutely,” I say with more resolve than I’ve felt in an entire year. “I’m ready to have him out of my life for good. Whatever it takes.”
Chapter Eighteen
Kade
For the first time in however long, I’m sitting on my couch not playing video games. Instead, I’m humoring Nicole and watching some reality show about people on the internet. It’s not as cringeworthy as I expected it to be. But that may be attributed to the fact that my thoughts are racing faster than the show is moving.
I really want to know how it went at the police station today. All Nicole told me is that she’s ready to press charges on Jeremy. And then she turned on the television and the only thing we’ve talked about since is the show.
I don’t want to pressure her into telling me anything she doesn’t want to, but I feel like I’ve been left with the biggest cliffhanger in history.
I went to the police station. The end.
But I keep trying to focus on the show instead of demanding answers. It’s not working out all that well.
“How many countries have done this reality show anyway?” I ask, going for a titillating conversation starter at least.
Nicole shrugs. “I don’t know. The US, France, Brazil, or something. I don’t care. As long as they keep making The Circle, I’ll keep watching it.”
“I admit it’s not the worst reality show I’ve seen.”
She bumps me with her shoulder. “You love it and you know it.”
I prop my feet up on the coffee table. Knowing us, we’ll be here for a while. “I can admit I see the appeal. At least it’s not those crazy housewife ladies who throw shit at each other.”
She giggles and goes back to watching. I’m not really paying that much attention. Right now it’s a lot of reading messages back and forth. It’s not that the conversations are boring, it’s that my mind is just somewhere else. Mainly, the police station. But apparently, I’m not as good at hiding my curiosity as I think.
“You want to know how it went at the police station don’t you?”
I drop my head and arms back with relief. I’m sure it looks like I’ve melted into the couch, which I probably have, so relieved she’s the one who started the conversation. “Am I that obvious?”
“No,” she replies with a giggle. “But I was kind of waiting to see how long it took until you broke and finally asked me about it.”
I squeeze her knee, making her jump. “That’s not very nice.”
“I have very little entertainment these days,” she says nonchalantly, then sits up and faces me. Situating herself so she’s criss-cross, I have the impression this is about to be an intense conversation. My guard is immediately up as I sit up straight. “I am filing for the protection order, but I also agreed to let them reopen my case.”
Her words are out in a rush, but don’t give me much information.
“What does that mean?”
Nicole looks down at her lap, fidgeting with a stray string on her pant leg. “That means Jeremy is probably going to be arrested again, only this time I’ll be testifying against him about what happened and he might get an assault conviction.”
I open my mouth to respond, but then what she’s not saying hits me. “You said he’s probably going to get arrested.”
“Yes.”
“And he might get a conviction.”
“Also, yes.”
“Explain that part.”
She drops the string and puffs out her cheeks before slowly pushing the air out. “It’s up to the DA if they want to try again. Since I didn’t exactly cooperate with them the last time they tried to throw the book at him, there’s no guarantee they’ll want to pursue it.”
“But he’s harassing you.”
She smiles kindly at me, and I know it’s her attempt at calming me down before I get too riled up. It just unnerves me that no one seems to take this as seriously as they should. She’s so precious and they keep letting her down.
“I know. And the fact that he keeps showing up at work will hopefully be to our advantage. The lady officer we talked to today is going to try and convince them that I’m ready this time and there is a real need to finally give him some jail time.”
“So, she thinks he’ll go to jail?”
“I don’t know. As far as I know, it was his first offense so they might go lenient on him.”
Again, I don’t understand how the powers that be can just let this slide by. “But you were hurt badly.”
“I know I was. But you know how it goes, Kade. He gets a good attorney who argues he’s never done anything like this before and his white, country club parents show up dressed nice and the judge falls for the whole poor little rich boy act. I’m prepared for that.”
I close my eyes briefly, gathering my thoughts. I’m angry, but more than that, I want to be here for her. To help her through this. “If you know it’s a long shot, why do it?”
She glances away momentarily before answering. “To make sure he’s not allowed to come near me for a very long time. And to maybe help that girl he’s hanging out with.”
“You know that’s not your job right? You don’t have to poke this bear or whatever for someone else’s sake. You don’t even know that anything is happening to her.”
Her smile is small and forced and I feel li
ke I’ve touched a nerve. “No, I don’t know anything is happening to her yet. But it will. Maybe if he’s arrested and convicted, she’ll take this chance to get far away from him.”
I suddenly realize, this is the first time I’ve heard Nicole talk about this whole issue without hesitation. It’s also the first time it’s come up at all without her looking like she’s on the verge of a panic attack. It gives me this odd sense of pride. “Why do you seem really strong and resolved about this?”
“I don’t know. I guess I just started looking around at all the support I get from my friends and family, and realized he can’t hurt me anymore unless I let him. I don’t want to let him anymore.”
“I’m really glad you have that support system.”
She leans forward and puts her hand on my knee. A shot of electricity runs straight to my dick. Maybe there will never be a time that it’s appropriate to be so affected by the warmth of her skin, but now is definitely not the time to let her touch affect me.
Looking into my eyes, she tilts her head slightly. “You know you’re part of that, right?”
Sucked into the deep look she’s giving me, I can only answer with, “I am?”
“Of course. I feel… calm when I’m with you. You just make me feel peaceful.”
“I do?”
She nudges me again playfully and I realize I’m barely able to put together sentences with her touching me. Fortunately, and also unfortunately, she removes her hand from my leg.
“Yes, silly. Remember that night you climbed in bed with me when I was having that nightmare?”
I’ve never forgotten it. I made mental notes of how her skin felt and how her body curved. I barely slept. I don’t tell her any of that, though. “Yeah.”
“I didn’t dream at all that night. Nothing I can remember anyway. You make me feel peaceful.”
I’d prefer it if I made her feel horny, but I’ll take what I can get, even if it’s a friend zone for now. I swallow hard at the thought.
“Well good. I’m glad I can be a good friend like that.”
