Page 68 of Until Joy

I shook my head. “You do know they were buying your cooperation, but any time you want to come at them with a lawsuit, you still would have a good one.”

“It wouldn’t do any good. Mr. Smythe is really rich, so he’s a really good barrister. Anyway, it happened too long ago.”

“Bullshit. They ignored everything that was happening to you and practically thrust you into the arms of a killer. Trust me, you have a case.”

She shook her head. “I want to keep it buried in the past. They never found the guy while I was in London. The detective called me six months after I was home. No one else had ever complained of something similar happening. So, they were closing the case. When I think about it I don’t think there is any chance the guy from London sent me flowers to the clinic.”

I blew out a deep breath. “It doesn’t seem likely,” I agreed. “So, you never once told your family? Ever?”

“No, never. If I had, they would have insisted I come live back home. I would have been lucky to have gone out on a date when I was forty. Maybe even forty-five. Even then, Seth or Randy would have tried to chaperone me.” she bit her thumb.

“And your brothers would have lost their minds,” Graham said quietly, nodding. “But you did end up talking to someone. A therapist. Who? When?”

“The detective suggested someone affiliated with their department and the Smythes paid for it. She really helped me. I understood things better. I was more logical about it, but I still had nightmares for a while.”

“How did you handle them?”

“I would read til the sun came up. Then I could sleep. If I fell asleep when it was dark, then the nightmares would start.”

“Aw, baby.” Graham cupped the back of my head and pressed his cheek against mine. “When did the nightmares stop?”

“About a month after I came home. Mom knew something was up. She thought I had met someone, and it was a bad breakup. The way I didn’t talk about it, I know she thought the man might have been married. She figured he lied to me, and I found out. I still wouldn’t say anything. She insisted I talk to Little Grandma.”

I frowned. “She thought that you talking to your great-grandmother would help?”

Joy gave a quick grin. “You don’t know her. She’s magic.”

“So, you actually talked to her?” I shook my head, trying to clear it.

“I did. She asked me about the museums in London. About the kids I took care of. About my favorite foods. Then she fed me. All of my favorites.” She grinned.

“That must have been a long conversation,” I teased.

She punched me in the chest, and it felt like a feather’s caress. “Anyway, she finally got me to admit that I wasn’t sad, but that I was scared. Just saying that was a big deal. It allowed me to breathe.”

“And after you told her you were scared?”

“She asked me if I had a reason to be scared in Jasper Creek. It was a simple question, and I had been so jammed up in my own head and heart that I hadn’t even considered that. I just stared at her, then finally laughed.”

She turned and straddled my lap. “At that moment, I could breathe Graham. I could breathe.” Then she sucked down a deep breath. It was as if she wanted to prove to me that she could breathe, but her breathing turned watery. It turned into a sob.

“I’ve got you,” I whispered into her hair. “I’ve got you, and I’m never going to let anyone hurt you again.”

Chapter 18

He pulled me down to his chest, and I let loose. Telling that story just brought everything back. I’d only thought about it in bits and pieces in the last few years, but explaining everything, all at once… it killed. The only thing saving me was Graham. Being there in his arms.

I cried about never having my dad’s hugs or my mom’s kisses when I was in the hospital, and then I sobbed even harder as I remembered all the times I wanted to tell someone about what had happened when I returned to Tennessee, but couldn’t.

Thank God for Graham Wallace.

“Let it out,” I heard Graham croon as I finally started to get myself under control. God knows how long I had been crying. I started to hiccup.

“Do you need a glass of water?” he asked quietly.

I nodded, my forehead resting against his shirt. I opened my eyes and saw a big wet stain on his chest and wondered just how much of it was snot and sighed.

Classy, really classy, Joy.