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“Earlier this year, he had me arrested for assault and battery.”
“What? How?”
“I hit him with a bat and broke his jaw.”
“Good for you.”
“Yeah, well, it was an accident, at least on my part. He walked into it on purpose. He was showing me how to hit a ball, and when I swung the bat, he stepped into it. Then he accused me of doing it on purpose and had me arrested so I would have an assault and battery record and would never be able to accuse him of hurting me.”
I expected Jackson to tell me how stupid I’d been to believe him. I still don’t know if it was true or not, but I didn’t want to take any chances with the law. I suppose I could have looked it up or asked someone, but I didn’t want to raise any suspicions. When Jackson didn’t argue or tell me I was stupid, I still felt the need to defend myself, regardless.
“We didn’t have a computer. So I couldn’t look up any information about that. Troy had forbidden computers in the house. He said he didn’t want one of those wives who sat around all day chitchatting with her friends on Facebook.”
“No doubt, to keep you from telling anyone about how he was treating you,” Jackson added.
“Not that I would have. He would have found out and probably killed me. There wasn’t much I could keep from him, and from what I know about computers, it’s difficult to hide things from one another, even with passwords. Look, Jackson, I don’t pretend to think that I wasn’t stupid to let him run my life the way he did. It happened so quickly. I thought we were happy. He was … everything until right after we were married. He completely changed. I never saw it coming.”
“I don’t think you were stupid, Lena, not at all. I do believe you were scared, though, and I hate that you had to go through that.”
Sitting here telling Jackson the story made it all seem so surreal, like some movie on the Lifetime channel. “Troy convinced me to run off to Las Vegas with him and get married. I’d only known him for about a month. Everyone said I should wait, but I thought I knew him. Then, two weeks after the wedding, he struck me for the first time. We’d been out partying with my friends from the band, celebrating our marriage, drinking and dancing, having a great time. I thought. Troy liked my friends; at least, he always seemed to. Anyway, I’d danced with my friend Weezer that night. It was a slow dance. He wanted to talk to me privately to make sure I was doing okay since Troy and I ran off and got married without letting anyone know. He was concerned and said he hadn’t trusted Troy initially, but I reassured him I was fine. That satisfied him, I guess, and he said if I was happy, that’s all that mattered.
Troy drank a lot, and later that night, after we’d gotten home, we argued about me dancing with Weezer. He accused me of wanting to be with Weezer and slapped me across the face. Then he yanked his wedding ring off and chucked it across the room. He said he didn’t want to be married to me anymore if I was going to act like a slut and a whore every time we went out with my friends. I’d been horrified and afraid he’d hit me again but relieved when he’d stumbled into the bed and promptly fell asleep. I was heartbroken and ended up crying myself to sleep that night. In the morning, he’d apologized, saying how sorry he was, begging me to forgive him and saying that he didn’t know what had come over him. We spent the morning searching the room for his wedding ring. When we found it, he kissed me and promised never to take it off again. He also promised that he would never hit me again.” False promises. I should have known, just like my stepfather. I kept that last part to myself, not wanting to get into a conversation about my awesome childhood.
“You say they were your friends. But how did you meet Troy?”
“One of the guys in the band, Phil, introduced us. Phil said he’d known Troy in high school. They’d been in the same English class as juniors. I don’t think he really knew Troy or remembered much about him from high school, though. I think they happened to run into each other one night after one of our gigs. I remember seeing Troy approach Phil, and they started talking like long-lost buddies, reminiscing about school and stuff. I thought Troy was handsome and sweet at the time. He swept me off my feet.”
“That sounds fairly familiar. You shouldn’t feel bad about trusting the guy if you had a friend who’d known him. I’ve had that happen—the long-lost friend from high school making a sudden appearance back in my life. But, of course, the guy didn’t turn out to be some psycho nut-job.”
I forced a smile at what Jackson said, appreciating his understanding.
“So, it was bad from the beginning?” he asked.
“Not really. Everything was fine for a few weeks. I thought that night he’d slapped me was a one-time occurrence, and he’d only hit me because he’d been drunk and jealous. Then, about a month after that, he came home from work one night, grumpy and swearing about something that had happened at the job site. He worked in construction, and he’d been replaced as foreman on the project. I knew he was upset, so I stayed quiet and listened with great interest, wanting to support him as much as possible. He ranted about how unfair the whole thing had been and how he deserved to be foreman, that the new one didn’t know jack shit. The awful day he’d had at work must have set him off. The blow to my cheek had been completely unexpected, came out of nowhere. I’d set dinner on the table and was getting ready to sit down when he got up from his chair and backhanded me across the face. He said his meat was too tough, and I needed to learn how to cook. That night he told me each time I made him something he didn’t like, he would reward me with a slap until I learned to do it right. That’s when he made me quit the band and all my friends. He blamed them for my lack of attention to detail. He said I needed to stay home and take care of him like a good wife. The next day he gave me a new cell phone and programmed it so he could see everywhere I went. If I didn’t take it with me when I went out, he’d have known. He called me every hour, sometimes twice. He was never consistent, so it was difficult to know when he would check up on me.”
I lowered my face into my hands. “God, I don’t know how I let it all happen. I’d always thought of myself as being smarter than that. I wanted to leave him when I figured out the life I’d gotten myself into. I would have left him sooner, but he threatened to hunt me down and kill me if I ever tried to leave him. I was pathetic, scared.”
I stopped talking and sucked in a sob. I thought of my mom. Was that what had happened to her?
“Have you ever given any thought to a shelter for battered women?”
“Of course. Except he’d find me at one of those. He knew all about them; in fact, he reminded me often that I should never try to go to one because a shelter would be the first place he would check. He also told me they’d never believe me anyway, considering it was his nose that hit the bat I had held. He would have found me, stalked me, and terrorized me until I came home. He told me he would.
“The first time Troy hit me, I thought maybe I deserved it for making him jealous. But the second time, I told myself I would never let him do that again. I would have left then, but I didn’t have any money, and I had nowhere to go. If I’d gone to a friend’s, he would have found me. Everything was in his name—credit cards, even bank accounts—and shortly after that was when he had me arrested. I knew if I ran, he would come after me. I had to get away from him, but I also knew he would never let me go.”
“You were more of a prisoner than a wife,” Jackson said in a quiet, thoughtful voice. “But in a shelter, you would receive safety, support, and get a fresh start in life. Maybe even make a few friends there with women who are in the same boat as you.”
“No!” I shouted the word and instantly regretted the way it came out. “No, I can’t go to a shelter. I won’t go. I’d rather stay running for the rest of my life than take a chance that he would find me.”
“Well, I know shelters are safer than what he told you. You would be very safe, but I can respect your desire not to go to one.”
“Thank you. I did start making plans, though. I saved money, even got a fake I.D. I was going to sneak away when I had enough money saved. I never intended to kill him, but he would have killed me if I hadn’t. I believe that. I know I panicked, but don’t you see? Stupid or not, I had no choice.”
“I don’t think you’re stupid, Lena. Scared, yes, but not stupid. We need to find out if he is still alive or not.”
“Yeah, but I can’t. If he is dead, I’ll be arrested for murder, and if he’s not dead, he’ll find me, and then I’ll be dead.”
“No, he won’t kill you. I won’t let him. And as far as you committing murder? Not a chance. One look at you, and any cop would know what happened.”
“God, no. Please, Jackson, I can’t involve the cops. I know you want to help, and I appreciate it. I appreciate everything you’ve done so far, but I’ll need to leave as soon as I can travel.”
