Page 27 of Haven Moon

“You won’t want that. Not if I told you what I did.”

“What you did?” The blood slowly drained from his cheeks. He knew it was bad. But how bad? “What did you do? Tell me. Tell me and let’s see what happens.” His voice sounded dry and crackly now.

“You have a high moral code,” I said. “Which means I should not make you have to make the choice to keep it to yourself.”

“Sammie, please. I want a chance. Don’t you want to see if there’s something special here?”

I got up from the couch, grabbing my untouched drink, and took a sip. It burned the back of my throat like punishment. I drank more. How I wished I could be numb. Forget John and everything that came before. Everything but Chloe. Then I’d be in this room with Thad, and I’d be able to tell him how I couldn’t stop thinking about him and how I dream of him some nights and wake up tingling with desire. But it was more than lust. I was drawn to him. Craved his company. Melted every time I saw him with Chloe.

I went to the window. The late afternoon sun had lowered in the sky and flooded the back garden with a yellow glow. Fireflies and bees bounced around the pots of lavender and flowers.

I’d tell him the truth. He deserved to know who I really was. I’d beg him to keep it to himself long enough for me to pack up Chloe and be on our way. I’d managed to save quite a bit of money since the rent was so cheap. I’d go east this time. Maybe to North Dakota. There were small towns there. Ones I could blend into and not be seen. I would not make this mistake again, getting close to wonderful people like the Moons, only to have to leave them. How many times could I leave before there was nothing left of me?

I turned slowly. Tell him. Just tell him.

I tossed back more of the liquid punishment and rejoined him on the couch. “I got pregnant right out of high school. John and I had dated all through our senior year. When he found out, he offered to marry me. I didn’t hesitate. He was part of a big family, and I thought it would be fun to be part of it. Before we married, he never showed any signs of what was to come. But it started on our honeymoon. He drank too much at dinner, and when we got back to the room he started yelling at me, saying I’d flirted with the bartender and had humiliated him. He tossed me against the wall and then onto the floor, punching my face. Then, by the grace of God, he sort of passed out right there. I shoved him off me and locked myself in the bathroom for the rest of the night. I finally fell asleep in the bathroom, shivering from my injuries and fear. When I woke in the morning, he was apologetic—said he drank too much and could I forgive him? I thought it was a one-time thing.” Had I, though? At this point, I couldn’t be sure.

“But it wasn’t?”

“No. There were a lot of nights he drank too much. Most nights.” I pressed my knuckles against my mouth to steady my voice before continuing. Telling Thad was easier than I thought it would be, a release of sorts. “My dad died when Chloe was a baby, but before that he’d had his suspicions even though I hid the bruises as best I could.” I looked down at my hands spread over my knees. “I became one of those women who had to wear long sleeves in hot weather and should have bought shares in Cover Girl makeup.”

“Did you ever go to the police? Or call them?”

I shook my head. “I would have if I’d lived anywhere else. Or if we’d lived in an apartment instead of in a house out in the middle of nowhere, someone might have called…when they heard my screams.” I shuddered, remembering how often I’d cried for help before Chloe got too old for me to do so. When she became a toddler and started to understand more, I’d kept silent while he hit me. I hadn’t wanted that to be one of her first memories. Instead, it had been of that bastard drowning those poor, innocent kittens.

“What do you mean, if you’d lived anywhere else?” Thad asked.

“My husband’s family runs the little town where I grew up. John’s brother is a cop. His cousin’s chief of police. His dad owns a bunch of shady businesses that I think he might be laundering money through. I know. It sounds like a movie, but it’s real. Even if anyone had believed me, which they wouldn’t, no one would care.”

“What about friends?”

“I didn’t have any. John made sure of that. He isolated me from everyone, especially after Daddy died. Anyway, telling anyone what was really going on would have put them at risk and made everything at home more dangerous for me. The reason for the attack the night he died was because he thought I’d told one of his friend’s wives about how he treated me. It was true. I’d told her in confidence. I should have known better. He was furious. There was no reasoning with him.”

“Yeah, but you left. You got away.” The hopefulness in Thad’s voice broke my heart. If only I’d just “gotten away.” If only I were in hiding just from him instead of the police.

“That was the plan. I hired a guy to make a fake ID for me with a new Social Security number and last name. I’d saved tip money—cash that I managed to hide from him. Once I had the fake ID, I took out credit cards with my new name. Closed my bank account. Everything to keep from being found. I had it all planned. But that night he came home drunk and ready for a fight.” I paused. How did I tell him this next part and watch the caring look he now had in his eyes fade away? Would he pick up the phone and call the police? The idea horrified me. They’d take Chloe from me. She’d be raised by John’s family. I couldn’t bear the thought.

Still, I had to take the risk. I’d come this far in my unburdening. It was too late to stop now. If he wanted to turn me in, then he would. At least I would have told him the truth. He deserved that from me after everything he’d done for us.

“He had his gun on him and he whipped it out and threatened to kill me. I’d been taking these kickboxing lessons in secret, thinking defense skills would help me. That night, I used them.” If I’d only known that would be my demise.

“Go on,” Thad said.

“I kicked and punched and kneed his groin and knocked him onto the floor. We tussled, and the gun went off. He died from a bullet wound to his chest. I killed him.” The last bit came out flat and emotionless. In the process of finally telling him the truth, I’d become numb. A self-protective act I’d honed over the years. “It was an accident.” I peeked up at him, wiping away the tears that dampened my cheeks. “But the fact is, I murdered him.”

I’d been wrong. His expression hadn’t changed. He still looked at me with sympathy. Even love. How could it be? Was it possible he would still care about me once he knew the truth?

“I left him there. Blood all over the floor and him dead as could be.” I chuckled bitterly before another bout of tears sprang from my eyes. “He always insisted the floor should be spotless. Another reason to hit me if there was even a speck of food on the counters or dust or a smudge on the floor.”

Thad got up to bring me the box of tissues from one of the side tables. I took a few, dabbing at my face and eyes while I tried to get my breathing under control.

“What happened next?” Thad asked, returning to the couch.

“I got Chloe from her bed, and we left. Fled. I knew it would be at least twenty-four hours before anyone found him. It was a Friday night, so he wasn’t due at work until Monday. He never went with me to church. His brother might get worried if he didn’t show up to the bar Saturday night, but he didn’t always go. Sometimes he stayed home to torture me.”

Next, I told him about the bus ride to Bozeman and buying a car and then our nomadic life until I found myself at Crescent Moon Ranch. “We stayed at various cheap motels along the way, but I wanted to splurge for Thanksgiving. It was my daddy’s favorite holiday.”

“Where did you come from?”

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