by Harley Stone
Even as my house and garden thrived, I withered away.
I begged Matt to sell the house and move us back into the city, but he never let my wants and needs get in the way of what he believed was best. Twisting my words and turning himself into a victim, he made me feel so damn ungrateful I hated myself for even making the suggestion.
After our fight that night, he left to get some air. Now, I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d visited his prostitute. If she’d taken the beating he’d wanted to give to me. Had that been the first time? Or was it when he found out I’d gotten an IUD and didn’t want to have any more children? Even back then I must have sensed something was… off with my husband.
Matt beat women. I’d seen the box of Polaroids with my own eyes, and had felt his fists against my skin, but I still had trouble wrapping my mind around his crimes.
I wasn’t a perfect wife, but I’d tried. My efforts didn’t matter. He’d been so desperate to beat the crap out of me that he’d found a whipping girl with my likeness. He said she was just a prostitute, but I wished I had a way to contact her so I could warn her. Who knew what he’d do to that poor woman once Kaos served him divorce papers?
He’s gonna be so pissed. I should be packing.
Too bad I had nowhere to go. Even if I did, the old Mazda I’d paid cash for with my first post-Matt paycheck would be lucky to make it out of city limits, much less across state lines. The balance in my checking account could cover a couple of value meals and a tank of gas, but that was about it.
Maybe I should have waited to serve him papers until I was financially stable and ready to run, but that could take years, and I’d already given up so much of my life for Matt. I refused to give him one day more. I only hoped my haste to get free of him wouldn’t come back to bite me in the butt.
“You okay over there?” my sister asked.
I’d been so deep in my thoughts I hadn’t even heard Elenore come in. Still in her workout clothes, she went straight to the refrigerator and refilled her metal water bottle. Two years younger, four inches taller, and way more intelligent than I, my little sister had her life together. Since I’d moved away, she’d poured herself into her career and her health, and she was killin’ it on the life front. I was happy for her, but her success could be a little intimidating at times. Especially when my life was in the toilet.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied. Fine was my go-to state of mind. If nobody was dead, it was fine. I could have a broken beer bottle sticking out of my gushing jugular, and still insist I was fine. It was a mindset, really.
“I’m fine, it’s fine, everything’s fine,” She said, repeating my mantra in a sing-songy voice. “You, my sister, are plenty of things, but fine is not one of them.”
Yeah, so I occasionally lied about my level of coping, and she called me out on it. That was kind of our thing.
“Are you calling me ugly?” I asked, trying my best to sound offended. Whenever lying didn’t work on Elenore, I deflected.
“No. I’m calling your life a dumpster fire.”
She had me there. I couldn’t help but snort out a laugh as I shook my head. “Fair enough.”
“Are you gonna keep trying to throw me off, or will you explain why you have a white-knuckled grip on that phone?” she asked. “By the way, that isn’t the posture of someone who’s fine. You look like you’re waiting for a ransom caller to tell you where to drop off the money. Where’s my nephew? He hasn’t been kidnapped, has he?”
“No. He’s moping in his room since I won’t let him play video games.”
“Uh oh.” She guzzled down a long drink of water before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Since it’s the weekend, I know he didn’t get in trouble at school again, so what’d he do this time?”
“He has so much attitude, and I can’t handle it today.”
She nodded. Dylan and Elenore had a great relationship that hadn’t been affected by my impending divorce, but she’d seen how differently he treated everyone else. “How’d your appointment go yesterday?” she asked. She’d worked late yesterday, and by the time she got home, I was asleep. Then this morning she had errands to run before she hit the gym.
“Good. We got the papers filled out and came up with a plan to serve them to him.”
Elenore paled and her gaze shot to my neck. “You scared of how he’ll react?”
“I’m trying not to think about it while I look for a job.”
“How’s that going?”
I knew what she was really asking, but chose to focus on what I wanted to discuss. “Not great. I’m about as employable as a chimpanzee.”
She grabbed an apple from the fruit basket and rinsed it. “You’re in luck, then. Chimpanzees have been known to use tools and learn sign language, so there’s hope for you yet.” Not only did she let me have my distraction, she played along. I loved my sister so much.
“Gee, thanks. How do our primate friends fare against Microsoft Office and QuickBooks?”
“See, that’s your problem. You’re treating these programs like enemies rather than the helpful tools they are. Computers are friends, T.”
“You don’t know that. The machines could rise up at any time. I’ve seen the movies.”
Elenore rolled her eyes and bit into her apple. My sister was a brilliant chemical engineer for a bigtime CBD manufacturer. To her, everything was a scientific equation she needed to solve, and I enjoyed driving her crazy by throwing out random conspiracy theories.
“Why are you looking for a new job?” she asked. “I thought Mr. Denali said you could return when your bruises are gone.”
Mr. Denali was a financial advisor in his early sixties. Despite my anemic resume and creative writing attempt at a work history, he’d given me an entry-level job as a receptionist. The work was easy, the pay was better than nothing, and the hours worked around Dylan’s school schedule. It had been the perfect fit until I’d gotten jumped in the parking garage.
The memory still made my blood run cold. Even worse, was the way the cops reacted to my attack. When they questioned Matt and discovered he had an alibi, they looked at me with suspicion, like I was some vindictive wife, trying to pin a random attack on my husband. Or maybe they thought I’d set the whole thing up. I had nothing to hide and had admitted I hadn’t seen my attacker’s face. It hadn’t occurred to me that Matt’s friends were as sleazy as he was and would lie to protect him.
“Come home, honey. You know you belong with me. Don't make me kill you.”
I could still hear the words he’d whispered into my ear as he wrapped his fingers around my neck from behind. The scent of his cologne—something I’d once found soothing—flooded my senses and made tears of terror leak from my eyes. I didn’t need to see his face to know who he was. The truth of his identity could be found in every squeeze of his hands.
“T?” Elenore nudged me.
I shook myself, trying to remember what we’d been talking about. My job. Right. “Yes, but I haven’t been there long enough to accrue vacation or sick days, and you know I can’t afford to miss work.” I had trouble covering my bills as it was. If my check was any slimmer, I’d have to juggle my bills or make partial payments until I could catch up. If I ever could catch up.
“Yes, you can. I’ll help you. Be honest with yourself, and with me. Why are you really looking for a new job?”
My sister always could see through my excuses and lies. “He knows where I work, El,” I admitted, hating the fear in my voice. My hands had started to shake, so I lowered my phone to the table and hid them in my lap.
Elenore’s eyes filled with compassion for a split second before anger lit it on fire. “I hate that manipulative bastard.” Pushing away from the counter, she paced the kitchen. “You left him. He shouldn’t be able to keep screwing with you like this.”
“I know.” I was so tired of dealing with Matt. The lies, the bruises, the false promises, the secrets… nine years of trying to keep my footing while his truths cr
ashed against me had worn me down. My very being felt eroded, but the knot of anxiety in the pit of my stomach told me Matt wasn’t done chipping away at me yet. Not by a long shot.
As if reading my mind, Elenore assured me, “You’re safe here. He doesn’t like witnesses, and he’d need someone to buzz him into the building.”
“Right.” I hope I sounded more convinced than I felt. She worked long hours, and usually Dylan and I were home alone. The building’s security code access was more of a suggestion than anything. Tenants were known to prop open the door or kindly hold it open for the stranger behind them.
She swallowed and met my gaze. “I have some vacation time saved up. I can—”
“No. You are not using your vacation to babysit me.”
“T—”
“No.” I stood, folding my arms and meeting her gaze. “You’ve done more than enough. We’ll be fine. I’ll figure this out.”
Elenore grabbed my hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Be careful. Every time you underestimate him, you get hurt.”
I nodded. “I know. We shouldn’t even be here. He knows where you live, and—”
“No.” Now it was her turn to stare me down. “You have nowhere else to go. The bastard made sure of that. I’ve finally gotten you back, and he does not get to chase you away again. You’re not putting me in danger, I’m choosing to help out my sister and nephew. I will always be in your corner, and nothing he says or does will change that.”
My eyes burned as a sense of gratitude washed over me. Matt may have taken everything else from me over the years, but he couldn’t touch my sister’s devotion. “I love you,” I said. “And I’m so lucky you’re my sister.”
“Damn straight.” She grinned. “Besides, I’ve been killin’ it in my kickboxing classes. I wish that asshole would make an appearance.” Kicking the air in front of her, she spun around and threw a jab. “I’d like to show him what happens when he attacks a woman who’s ready for him.”
The sound of little footsteps interrupted her next spin kick. We turned to find Dylan wearing a sheepish expression as he slipped into the kitchen. His gaze met mine and he let out a dramatic sigh. “I’ve thought about my behavior, and I’m sorry.”
Onto his act, I nodded. “Noted. Thank you. I forgive you, but you’re still not playing video games tonight.”
“Oh, come on!” He threw back his head and proclaimed his frustration to the ceiling, humility façade gone. “I said I’m sorry. What more do you want from me?”
Elenore was trying not to laugh. I shot her a warning look before focusing on my son. “I’m glad you recognize what you’ve done and you’re sorry, but there are still consequences for your actions. Your consequence is that you’re not allowed to play video games today. Maybe you’ll think about that before you act up next time.”
“But I need to play NHL. I have to get really good at it, so I’ll know what I’m doing when Kaos teaches me to play for real.”
Elenore’s eyebrows rose in question as she looked at me. “Chaos? Why on earth would we want Dylan learning chaos? Don’t we have enough of that in our lives already?”
“Kaos is a big, tough biker who used to play hockey for the Sharks, Aunt El. He’s gonna teach me how to play,” Dylan said.
Something that could only be described as sheer panic flashed across Elenore’s face. “A biker? You’re going to let a big, tough biker teach Dylan how to play hockey?”
I’d been so stressed, wondering what Matt’s reaction to the divorce papers would be, that I hadn’t given much consideration to Kaos’s offer. “I haven’t decided if it’s a good idea or not.”
“Oh, it’s a horrible idea,” Elenore said, sounding scandalized.
At the same time, Dylan threw up his hands in exasperation and said, “Oh, give me a break.”
My sister and I turned to stare at my little drama king.
“This is a good opportunity for me. If I work hard, I can make the NHL and buy you a house, Mom. A big one. And a car that doesn’t suck. Aunt El, you can live with us, too,” he said.
I pointed to him. “You. Back to your room. We’ll discuss this later.”
His shoulders dropped and he rolled his eyes, but he did turn and march back the way he’d come.
“He’s not wrong,” Elenore said. “Learning a sport from a pro is huge. But I think we should circle back to the whole biker thing. When did you start hanging out with bikers?”
My little sister’s eyes were far too judgy for comfort, making me want to clap back. “Well, I started thinking that the best way to get rid of my ex is to find someone who’s bigger and stronger to take him out, so I hit up a biker bar. Since I don’t have any money, they were willing to let me trade my body for their services. I let them run a train on me, and—”
“Stop.” Elenore’s hand went up to silence me as her eyes about bugged out of her head. “You did what?”
I rolled my eyes. “God, El, I’m not a slut, and I’m not stupid. I’ve learned my lesson and plan to stay as far from men as possible. He’s not a Hell’s Angels type biker. He’s a veteran. He was volunteering at Ladies First when I went in to sign the divorce decree. Dylan sat with him, and… I think they bonded somehow. He seemed nice. He told me he used to be a little brat, but hockey straightened him out. Thinks it’ll do the same for Dylan. I have so much going on right now, I haven’t had time to even consider the offer, but Dylan won’t shut up about him.”
“But why is his name Kaos?” Elenore enunciated each word. “That sounds like an earned name, making me wonder exactly how he acquired it. Is he destructive? Does he create disorder wherever he goes? More importantly, are you sure his offer was a suggestion? What if it was like one of those mobster situations… a deal you can’t refuse. Will his buddies Mayhem and Anarchy show up on our doorstep to make sure we don’t talk? Like ever again.”
“Mayhem is a cool nickname!” Dylan said from the doorway.
Trying not to roll my eyes, I pointed. “Room. Now.”
When I turned back to Elenore, she looked traumatized. No doubt she was imagining my little boy wearing leathers and chains and insisting people call him Mayhem. “You need to keep custody of Dylan,” she warned. “If Matt finds out he’s hanging out with some biker named Kaos, he’s gonna have a cow.”
“I know.”
My phone rang.
I glanced at the screen and frowned. The caller was anonymous. Matt liked to call me from blocked numbers when he wanted to threaten or yell at me and didn’t want a record of the call. He would have received the divorce papers by now and this had to be him, ready to rant and rave at me. I thought about sending the call to voicemail, but needed to know how he was handling the news and what I’d be dealing with.
“Speaking of the devil?” Elenore asked.
“Probably. Wish me luck.”
“You don’t need luck. You need a priest to exorcise that demon from your life.”
Unfortunately, no priests were present. Clearing the fear from my throat, I answered the call, trying to keep my voice as steady as possible. “Hello?”
“All I ever wanted to do was love you,” Matt said in my ear, his words clipped with anger. “Everything I’ve done has been for you and Dylan, and this is how you repay me? You give up? Our family means the world to me, and you’re ripping it apart. Have you even thought about how this will affect Dylan? You grew up without a dad, and you know how hard that was on you. Do you really want to put him through that kind of pain?”
“No. If I did, I wouldn’t have dropped out of college to be with you, Matt.” I didn’t want to fight him, but I couldn’t sit through another one of his guilt trips, either.
“You hadn’t even picked a major yet, and I have no idea how you planned to pay for school. I did you a favor. You owe me, Kristina.”
“I gave you nine years of my life, and you wanted to hit me so bad, you found a hooker who looks like me to beat on. And then you turned your fists on me. I don’t owe you anything.
”
He chuckled, and it sounded off. Forced. “You’re just making shit up now. None of that happened, and you know it.”
“I’m not the cops. You don’t have to lie to me. I was there, remember? I suppose you’re still claiming it wasn’t you who jumped me after work?”
“I was at Chi-Chi’s with Aaron and Dwight. Even the wait staff vouched for me,” he said through gritted teeth. “I don’t know what’s going on in that twisted little brain of yours, but you need help. Maybe I should come get Dylan so you can get some rest and figure out why you’re so damn desperate to destroy what I worked hard to build. You’ve always been a bit self-destructive, but this is getting ridiculous.”
Matt never admitted guilt. Never. Instead, he always brought me over to his way of thinking, making me question my senses and feel like I was overreacting. But this time, he’d gone too far. I had a photograph of his abused hooker and had felt his anger first-hand. No matter what he said, I couldn’t be persuaded to forget those horrors. His days of gaslighting me were over. “We both know your buddies would lie for you, and I’m sure you paid off a waitress to verify their story.”
“You’re the only one making shit up, and I’m worried about the safety of our son. He needs stability and quite frankly I don’t think you can give it to him right now. Let me come and pick him up, and there will be no reason to involve the police. I can be at your sister’s in thirty minutes.”
The hair on the back of my neck stood up and every instinct screamed at me to grab Dylan and run. “You can’t do that. You signed the agreement for supervised visits. You promised you wouldn’t do this, Matt.”
“That was before I realized how unstable you are. You’re dangerous to Dylan, and without Elenore, you’d have no resources to provide for him. If this goes to court, you won’t have the money to hire an attorney. You know I’ll get him in the end. I always win. Might as well just hand him over now.”
He didn’t know I had other people in my corner now. Reaching into my pocket, I slid my fingers over the worn business card still there, reassuring myself. “I am not handing my son over to a woman beater,” I spat.
