Page 57 of Dark Ugly Places

“Okay, baby,” she’d agreed timidly.

She waited up for him until 2 a.m., the television on low, casting shadows across their bedroom. The house felt eerily quiet without him. Bambi tiptoed downstairs and checked the front of the house and the back before heading back up and resigning herself to sleep.

Later, Bambi had been awoken from a deep sleep by Jason. She felt revulsion course through her as his hands roved over her body, the smell of another woman clinging to him, overly sweet and foreign.

“Get off me,” Bambi said and pushed him away.

Jason fell backward, momentarily stunned. Then he raised his hand to her, grabbing her forcefully by the hair so she had no choice but to sit up.

A scream echoed through the house, and Bambi heard herself beginning to cry. The act was quick and shocking. And then it was done.

They never spoke of it.

She’d never spoken of it.

But why not? Because everyone loved Jason Redfern. And she loved him too … didn’t she? It was easy enough to just ignore these small infractions because otherwise, things were perfect.

Except there was something beyond the captivating charm everyone hung onto, beyond the thrill and the allure of him. There was a certain darkness that stayed with her like a warning.

If you don’t stop him, he’ll stop you.

Bambi hurriedly gets ready and finishes cleaning herself up, wiping the remaining blood from her skin and covering the marks on her with makeup.

Downstairs, she hears Jason roll his suitcase into the hallway and give some instructions to Lucita for while he’s away.

If you don’t stop him, he’ll stop you.

His footsteps climb the stairs, and he stands outside the bathroom door. He clears his throat, knocks, then stills. “Bambs, are you awake yet?”

Her heart begins beating wildly in her chest. She can’t bring herself to open the door. Her palms begin to sweat as she backs away toward the glass wall of the shower, tucking her robe around her small frame.

“Bambs?”

“I’m just getting ready.”

A click of his tongue. “Okay, well, I’m leaving for the plane. Can you at least come to the door and say goodbye?” A pause. A rattle of the doorhandle. “Open the door, Bambs.”

Her heart rate quickens, and the room begins to spin around her, all tile and mirrors and light. She braces herself against the sink—cold porcelain and marble. “I can’t right now.”

He tries the door, but it is still locked. A frustrated grunt. “Okay, well, I wanted to say goodbye, but I have to leave.” He clears his throat. “And babe?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about last night. I really am. Things got out of hand. I know that. I didn’t mean for them to … I just …”

How is this Jason the same Jason from last night? How is this the same man? She longs to erase the memory, to be able to pretend a little longer that it didn’t happen.

A sob nearly escapes her lips, the burden of their secret heavy within her. “Have a good trip,” she manages.

He taps the door lightly with one hand. “Okay, baby. Be good while I’m gone.”

She listens for his footsteps heading back down the stairs. In moments, the front door opens, and his suitcase rolls through their foyer. Lucita says goodbye. When the door finally closes, and Bambi hears the car out front ferry him away, a rush of relief and sadness comes spilling forth. She sinks to the floor and cries into her hands quietly.

From the corner of the bathroom, a small, muted ping erupts. She crawls toward the sound and finds her phone face down in the corner of the bathroom. Flipping it over, she sees a message on the screen.

Reminder: Call Martha.

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