by J. J. Bella
“The media?”
He laughed once. “Oh yeah. They watch for things like this. If I step one foot over the line, they let the world know.”
“Have you had that happen before?”
“Oh sure. Business deals that seem unfair, or if there’s a hint of me not being ethical. They try to make a story out of anything.”
“But there’s been nothing else violence related?”
“No. Most people know better than to mess with me. I have security systems and can have security guards at a moment’s notice if need be. I’m not afraid to defend myself with force if I have to.”
“So, you’ve never committed any sort of violent act before?”
It seemed like there was more behind her question than just what she’d said. “Not really. I may have gotten in a few fights here and there in my teens and early twenties, but I have no need for that now.”
She nodded slowly.
“Ask me the real question,” he said.
She looked at him in surprise. “The real question?”
“There’s more.”
She didn’t answer.
He waited several long minutes before asking again. “Isabella. It’s okay. Ask me anything. What did you really want to ask?”
She pulled in a slow breath. “Seeing you like that… it scared me. I never thought you could be like that, do something like that. I started to wonder if I really knew you at all. And then I started to think…”
“You thought I might hurt you?”
She shook her head. “Not exactly. I started to think that… Well, what if Abigail’s accident wasn’t completely an accident?” She went on, spilling all her words in a rush. “People get mad and lose their temper and I get that. I’m not saying you did it, but it could have been an accident. You got mad and pushed her, not realizing the stairs were there or something. Or maybe you really are that violent and you did mean it. I don’t know. I tried to find out, but I couldn’t tell anything from the photos and now I don’t know what to think.” She cowered away from him like he was going to react violently toward her.
He sat there, staring across the room for a long time. At least that explained why she was suddenly so cold toward him.
“I’m sorry.” She sniffed and he saw tears running down her face. “I never wanted to think anything like that about you. I never did before, I just saw you and… honestly, what the police said was true. You kept going when the danger had passed. He was down and not moving and you kicked him several times. I do think you went beyond self defense.”
He felt both hands tighten into balls and his jaw started to ache. “Did you tell the police that?”
“No,” she whispered. “I told them he hit you and you defended yourself and that Matthew had always been jealous of you and that he threw things in the past when he got mad at me.”
Lucas nodded stiffly. “But what you really believe is that I’m so violent I would throw my own wife down the stairs and kill her?”
“No, I don’t think that. I don’t know what to think.”
“You looked into. You must have believed it enough to go that far. You got photos?”
“From the coroner.”
“You went as far as contacting the coroner? That’s how much you believed I was a murderer?”
She shook her head. “I was trying to convince myself that it wasn’t true. I wanted to see that it really had been an accident and that the Lucas I know is the real Lucas. I didn’t want it to be true.”
She covered her face with her hands and sobbed.
“I did not murder my wife,” he said sternly. “Her death was a tragic accident that still haunts me. I would have done anything to save her, to protect her. Like I protected you.”
“I didn’t really think you killed her. I know you loved Abby. I know you did.”
“I still do. But you believed it enough that you had to look into it. You had to find proof to convince yourself that I’m not a murderer. I don’t even know what to say to that.”
A silence fell and was broken by a small voice coming from the open door. “Daddy?”
They both looked up to see Jackson standing in the doorway, his small face ashen and shocked. “Was Mommy murdered?”
Lucas and Isabella both jumped up and went to him. Isabella reached him first and was already saying, “No, no, that’s not what happened.”
Lucas took Jackson from her arms. “I need to talk to my son alone.”
Isabella dropped her arms and hurried off upstairs.
Lucas sat Jackson down on the couch and put his arm around him. “There was just some confusion. Mommy died in a horrible accident. No one hurt her. No one would ever want to hurt her. I loved Mommy very much and I still do. You know that, right?”
Jackson nodded. “But why did Aunt Izzie say that? That she didn’t think you killed her?”
“Well, because she knows I would never do such a thing.”
“But does she think someone did kill her?”
“No. We were talking about something that happened with Matthew.”
“Oh.”
“You want to finish watching what we were watching before?”
He nodded and Lucas felt relieved that he was able to stop the conversation so fast. Jackson hadn’t heard the whole thing, hopefully, and even if he had, Lucas had set it right. He just hoped it wouldn’t bother him, and he wouldn’t think about it again. He didn’t need to be worrying like that about his mother’s death. The truth was all he needed to know. That his mother loved him and her death was a tragedy.
7
Isabella sat on the edge of her bed, crying. How could she have been so careless to say something like that and not make sure Jackson wouldn’t hear? How could she have even thought it was true in the first place? Lucas wouldn’t really do anything like that. And to say that him, to accuse him of something so terrible was just wrong.
She felt horrible through and through. She didn’t know how to fix it, either. At least she had defended him to the police. She wanted to tell the truth. What if someone else had seen and the truth came out and then she would be charged for lying? Maybe the severity of the beating was subjective. Maybe if it came up, she could say it didn’t look like he kicked him hard. Make it seem like she hadn’t lied.
She couldn’t think about that now. She was done talking to the police and if anything came of it, she’d deal with it then. Hopefully Lucas would just get it all cleared up and it would be over with. She skipped dinner and stayed in her room most of the night, trying to resolve what she’d done in her mind and trying to figure out how to make it better with Lucas.
She didn’t think she’d sleep much that night, but she dressed for bed anyway. She brushed her teeth and walked back into her bedroom to a knock on her door, followed by Lucas’s voice.
“Can I come in?”
She opened the door and stepped aside to let him in. She looked up and down the hall, then closed the door behind her. “Is Jackson in bed?”
He nodded and crossed his arms as he faced her. “I don’t appreciate you making my son question his mother’s death.”
“I am so sorry. I feel terrible about it—”
“You should. You know better than anyone how terrible that time was for all of us. Then you’re going to sit there in my house and ask me if I did it? If I killed the woman I loved, the love of my life, the mother of my child?”
She swallowed hard. She hadn’t figured out how to make this better, and now she had no more time to think. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else I can say.”
“You can start by telling me what made you think that.”
“You were so angry. So… violent. I didn’t think you were capable of being like that. I wondered what else you were capable of.”
“And your mind jumped to murder.”
“No.”
“But it didn’t take you long to get there.”
Isabella let out a long sigh. “I don’t know what els
e I can say to you. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have thought that about you. All of it was upsetting and I just kept seeing you kicking him over and over and…” Tears ran fresh down her cheeks. The image in her mind was horrible. She wanted to erase it, but couldn’t.
“I was protecting you,” he said.
“I know. But you went too far.”
“Do you want him to show up again, to come after you next time? To maybe hurt you or kill you? I wanted to make sure he understood that he was not come near you again. It takes some people more pain than others. I’m not a murderer!”
She looked behind her, paranoid now that someone might overhear them. “Keep your voice down.”
“You weren’t too concerned about that earlier, were you? When you told my son I murdered his mother?” He took a step and stumbled. She looked at him more closely.
“Are you drunk?”
He glared at her. “Why? Would that make you afraid of me?”
She was a little afraid if she was being honest. She hadn’t seen him drunk much, and she’d never seen him drunk and angry.
“I would never say anything to Jackson that would make him think anything bad about you or the way Abby died. Him overhearing was an accident, and I feel horrible about it. I think… I think I should go to my parents for a while. Give us all some time apart.”
He didn’t say anything, but kept glaring at her.
“I just need time to think and figure things out, and I can’t do that if I’m here, seeing you and Jackson all the time.”
“You’re not even going to come watch him during the day?”
“I don’t think I should. At least for this week, maybe longer. I’ll… let you know.”
He stood frozen in one spot as she tossed some clothing into an overnight bag. He didn’t move to stop her or help her. When she had the things she’d need immediately, she paused before leaving the room.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “About everything. Jackson overhearing, thinking awful things about you. I’m sorry.”
She closed the door softly behind her, then dashed down the stairs and got into her car, pulling away from the mansion before she could change her mind.
By the next morning, her thoughts had only cleared a little. She could think clearly, but she still didn’t have enough answers. What she did have, though, was a way to get them.
She wasn’t nearly as rich as Lucas, but she had some money stashed away. Enough to get real answers. She met with a private investigator that afternoon and told him both what she knew and what she needed to know.
On her way home from the meeting, she stopped at the police station. After what had happened with Matthew, and the way he’d tried to press charges against Lucas, she was still afraid. She filed a protection from abuse, saying that Matthew had to stay 150 feet away from her at all times. Hopefully, it would get through to him and he would abide by it.
When she got back to her parents, she was full of anxiety. She’d done all she could to get answers and be proactive, but now she had to wait. She didn’t know how long it would take the PI to find something out. She went for a run to ease the anxiety, and it was enough to help her sleep.
Over the next three days, she had run a lot. It was helping, but she still wasn’t sleeping well, and now that she wasn’t watching Jackson, she had too much time on her hands. She decided to get out her workout equipment and lift some light weights to a video. After searching all through the things in her parent’s basement, she realized she’d left them at Matthew’s.
The weights had been in the basement with all the workout equipment and since most of it was Matthew’s, she’d forgotten to look through it for anything that was hers. After deliberating for a while, she picked up her phone to text Matthew.
“I have some weights in the basement that I need to get. You should have been served with my PFA by now, so you know that you’ll have to leave for me to come get my things.”
“I got it,” he texted back. “So what, now you’re banging that rich asshole? Did you cheat on me with him, too? Stupid slut.”
She wanted to tell him off, but thought better of it. Best to just get done what needed to be done and move on with life.
“When will you be gone so I can get my things?”
“After 6:30.”
Good. He’d let everything go and gave her an answer and that was that. She had to wait around for several hours until she could go over there. She used the time to read, which she rarely made time for usually. She had actually managed to get into her book when her phone rang. The number was the PI.
“I have some news for you,” he said. “This was actually a pretty simple case.”
“Really? Okay good.”
“There’s enough evidence in the photos to prove it, but I have something more. A surveillance video from Lucas’s home.”
“Really? I don’t remember the coroner report saying anything about that.”
“No, it wouldn’t. The police report would have, but there were no charges and no investigation done.”
“What does it show?” she asked.
“That Abigail tripped and fell down the stairs, breaking her neck in the fall. You can be assured this was just an accident and not a murder. The video clearly shows no one around her at the time she fell.”
Isabella breathed out a heavy sigh of relief. “Thank you. I didn’t want to believe it was true. Can you send me a copy of the video?”
“It should already be in your inbox.”
“Thank you so much.”
She watched the video four times, each time feeling more and more relieved. After the first time, she stopped it when Abigail started to fall. Seeing her sister fall to her death once was more than enough.
Isabella put her face in her hands and cried for several minutes. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she told Lucas that the Matthew thing had taken a toll on her. It wasn’t easy ending an engagement, and though they hadn’t done a lot for their wedding, she did have to cancel bridal magazine subscriptions, unsubscribe from email newsletters, and cancel the date they’d reserved for the reception. It hadn’t been easy, and having him show up drunk and say awful things to her, then attack Lucas had made it all worse.
After thinking that Lucas might be involved in Abigail’s death, she didn’t know what to do with her thoughts and feelings. She still loved Lucas. Maybe more than ever now, knowing how he’d defended her and having absolute proof that he hadn’t been involved in Abigail’s death in anyway.
She’d have to talk to Lucas. Apologize again and profusely. And maybe now she could finally tell him the truth. That she loved him and it tore her up to think of him in a negative way. She never wanted to feel that again. Even if he didn’t receive it well and nothing came of it, he had to know. She couldn’t make things much worse between them than they already were.
When 6:30 came around, she waited several more minutes before leaving to drive over to Matthew’s. His car was gone. She unlocked the door, realizing she should probably give back the key, and went to the basement to get her weights. They were too heavy to box up, so she carried out the first set of dumbbells, just three pounds each.
She had the set of eight-pound weights in her hands as she walked back outside to her car and saw Matthew stumble out of the bushes.
“What are you doing here?” she said. She put the weights in her trunk, keeping her eyes on him the whole time.
“Oh sorry. Forgot you had a piece of paper to say you hate me now.” He stood a few feet from her. He didn’t seem as drunk as he’d been the last time she’d seen him, but he still didn’t seem completely sober.
“Right. And that means that the police will charge you for being here. You’ll be arrested and taken to jail.”
“Not if you don’t call them. I only want to talk. Just talk to me.”
“We have nothing to talk about. I have more things to get.” She turned away from him.
“Isabella!”
She hurried back insi
de and as soon as she was in the basement, took her phone from her pocket. At first, she planned to call the police. They’d come and arrest him, sure. But they might take too long on a call like this. He hadn’t done anything or threatened her, so they had no reason to hurry if there was something more critical going on. There was one person who would come to her rescue fast, though. At least she thought he still would.
She texted Lucas, “I’m at my old place and Matthew just showed up. Help!”
She dialed 911 after sending the text.
“This is 911, what’s your emergency?”
“I have a PFA against my ex fiancé and he just showed up and—”
The phone was snatched from her hand. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Matthew said and ended the call.
She couldn’t lie. He’d heard her. “I have a PFA for a reason Matthew,” she said, shaking.
She hadn’t gotten to the weights yet and stood with empty hands as he balled his into fists. Would Lucas come? Had the dispatcher heard enough to send someone? She thought they had to send someone if the call ended like that. Didn’t they? She just had to stay out of harm until someone could get to her, whoever it was.
“Go outside, Matthew. The police are on their way.”
“Why would you do this to me? You break my heart, then bring your new boyfriend over here, and now you want to call the police on me? How could you be so cruel?”
“You came after me, attacking me. I got a PFA and you still showed up. I’m just trying to protect myself.”
“You didn’t have to do any of that.”
“Clearly, I did. Look at you. You’re drunk again, and you just ripped my phone from my hand. Why don’t you give me the phone back and leave, and then maybe the cops will go easy on you. You can tell them you wanted to talk and when you saw I didn’t want to, you left. That’s the truth, isn’t it?”
He narrowed his eyes and leaned closer to her. “You think I’m going to let you make a fool of me?”
He reached out and grabbed a fistful of her hair. She screamed and heard footsteps thundering on the basement stairs. She wanted to feel relieved, but it was hard when he was pulling her hair so hard, wrenching her neck to pull her closer to him.
