Keeping my gaze low, I give her a once-over, not at all liking what I’m seeing. Everything in my gut is telling me to get her away from him. “Ma’am, I’m gonna need to speak to you over here.”
“Montana.” The word is a threat.
“As an officer of the law,” I cut him off, “I’m asking to speak to your wife. You stay here with Officer Kepler, and I’ll be back to you ASAP.”
Fuckin’ asshole.
“My lawyer will hear about this.”
“Great, I’ll give you my name and badge number before I leave. Now.” I gesture to the wife. “Over here if you please.”
Chapter 13
Sullivan
I make sure I don’t turn my back on the two of them as I escort her toward my patrol car. When we get there, I lean against it so I can keep an eye on what’s occurring over at the door.
“Can you tell me what happened here tonight?” I ask her carefully.
“Nothing.” She folds her arms over her chest, effectively trying to shut me out.
With eyes that have watched too many other women in this situation, I see it all. The dried tears along her cheeks, the makeup she’s tried to put on in a rush to conceal what’s been done to her, the smeared mascara. The signs are all there, but there’s one that gets me every time.
The eyes.
They always tell what the mouth won’t.
The fear, sadness, isolation, and hopelessness of a situation they can’t seem to change.
“You’re safe.”
“I know I am.” She raises her chin slightly. “My husband would never hurt me.”
I wonder how many times she’s told herself those words as she cleans up her face, or puts a homemade splint on a sprain.
“Can you tell me what happened here tonight?” I try again, this time moving my eyes up to where Renegade is still dealing with her husband.
She sighs.
“Your neighbor called it in. We have to come and check it out. The best thing you can do is tell us what happened.”
“And then you’ll leave?”
It goes against everything I stand for, but I keep the promise in my voice. “Then I’ll leave, as long as the law allows me to.”
“Okay.” She pulls her lip between her teeth. “He came home, and I didn’t have dinner on the table.”
It takes everything I have not to rage. “You didn’t have dinner on the table?”
“Yeah.” She pushes her hair back, and I notice a dark bruise on her wrist. “It’s what he expects as the man of the house. I don’t work,” she says, trying to make an excuse.
“Did he put that mark on your wrist?”
She quickly pulls her long-sleeve shirt over where I’ve indicated. “Burned it making dinner. I was in a hurry,” she continues.
“Because it wasn’t ready when he got home?”
“Yeah,” she whispers.
Her eyes are looking at me, but they aren’t seeing a damn thing. It’s almost as if she’s rehearsed this so many times she can say it on autopilot. “What did he do when he realized dinner wasn’t on the table.”
She snorts. “It wasn’t even on the stove.”
Maybe I’m getting somewhere with her now. “What’d he have to say about that?”
“He yelled.” Again with the vacant eyes. “He screamed and yelled. Threw a few things. Not to hurt me physically,” she hurries out, like it makes a difference. “To hurt me emotionally. He broke my grandmother’s serving platter.”
What a fucking dick.
“Does he scream and yell a lot?”
She brings her hands up to her mouth, holding them over her lips. The material of her shirt is bunched between her fingers. She’s pressing it all against her face, like she can either hold the words in, or she hadn’t meant to let them out. “No more than anyone else. I should’ve had dinner done.”
“Can’t he fix it hisself?” I drawl as I lean harder on my patrol car.
“Obviously you don’t know Frank Gentry.”
No, I don’t. But now I’ve made it my mission to find out everything I can about this piece of shit.
“Are you surprised she didn’t press charges on him?” Ryan asks as the two of us walk slowly back to our patrol cars.
We’d stayed at the Gentry residence for forty-five more minutes, trying to give her the time she needed to ask for help. But Montana, she hadn’t. With her refusing to say Frank had hit her, and no evidence for us to use, we’d had to reluctantly let them go back to their night.
“Nah,” I sigh. “All too often they don’t choose to press charges until it’s too late. I just wish there were something I could do for her. He seems like a real charming guy.”
“Oh he is,” Ryan laughs. “He sits on the board at the bank, but he only got the job because of his grandmother. Word around town says he’s waiting for widow Hailey to kick the bucket. He’s sure as shit he’s gonna get her inheritance.”
“Wouldn’t it be funny if he didn’t. What a punch in the nuts that would be.”
Ryan shrugs. “It might make him worse. Men like him get worse when things don’t seem to go their way.”
Rubbing my hand across my chin, I think about what he’s said. “Hopefully she gets out before he does.”
“We can always hope,” he sighs heavily, his shoulders slumping. “Either way, I’m going off-shift. Be safe out here, Sully.”
“Will do, thanks for responding with me.”
He grins before turning to walk toward his patrol car. “Always a pleasure, brother.”
Getting into my own car, I watch Ryan drive away, wondering how he lets this stuff go. When I can’t help someone, it eats at me. Sometimes for days, especially at night when I’m trying to calm down and go to sleep. After shifts like this, there’s a need to expend some energy.
My phone buzzes loudly, causing me to reach over and grab it from the dash. On it, a text message from my soon to be brother-in-law.
C: We’re doing a pick up game parks and rec. We need another person. Wanna join?
I’ve played pick up with Cutter and his EMT friends before. They’re serious about it, and since I was a player in high school, I appreciate the gravity with which they take it.
S: I’ve got forty-five more minutes. Can y’all wait on me?
C: No problem, Devante’s on his last run. We’re waitin’ on him too.
S: Then count me in. Sounds like a great time.
C: Cool, we’ll see ya in a few.
This is another reason I wanted to move here when Rowan decided she was going to uproot herself from our hometown. Back there, I was known as the police chief’s son, always regarded with looks.
Different kinds from different people.
There were those who thought I walked onto the police force without trying, there were others who thought I tried too hard, and even more who were completely indifferent to me. They refused to acknowledge me because they were scared they’d do something wrong and I’d report them to my father.
Moving to Laurel Springs has been a lifesaver.