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All of it was so familiar. We’d played his game so many times. Only this time there was a sheriff and his deputies waiting outside to help me if I needed them. Thad too—watching all of this happen and probably losing his mind—wishing he could put a stop to it right now but trusting Winthrop’s ways instead. He’d fallen in love with me even though he knew I wasn’t truthful with him about my past. He’d loved me through all of this madness, as steady as anything or anyone I’d ever known. He wanted me. If I could get out of here alive, I was going to spend the rest of my life showering him with all the love in my heart. I’d stifled my true self for too long, but I’d found her in Montana. I’d found a family, too. One who loved me and Chloe. Everything I wanted was within reach. I just had to keep him from killing me.
John yanked me away from the side of the bed and slammed me against the wall, knocking the breath out of me. This was always his first move. I had to get him to say more before he hit me hard enough to knock me out.
“What if I’m not quiet? What if I tell everyone who you really are?” I asked him once I caught my breath. He smelled of stale booze and perspiration, as if he’d not showered since I’d last seen him. “What if I just keep on talking? What if I tell the whole world what you did?”
“No one would believe you. I’m John Underwood. You’re nothing but trash. Your dad was trash and your whore mother was trash. Everyone knows I married you because you were pregnant. People pitied me. Having to marry waiflike Sammie with her limp hair and ghostly skin and mousy personality. Everyone knew you’d gotten pregnant on purpose so you could live a life of luxury. And I gave you everything. What did you do? Left me. Shot me and left me for dead.”
“The life of luxury? That’s a good one. You kept me trapped in that cracker box of a house like you were such a big man. But you’re not. You’re small and insignificant. Even your daddy knew you weren’t smart enough to do anything but work for him.”
“Shut up. You’re the stupid one. The one nobody wants.”
One of his best moves—gaslighting and lies. What he said wasn’t true. My father was a great man. Like Thad and his brothers. Like Jasper Moon. This here in front of me was a bad man. It didn’t matter how much money a man had. That had nothing to do with a man’s character; his capacity for love and fatherhood could not be measured in wealth but in action. All John Underwood had ever done was hurt me.
“I documented your abuse over the years,” I said, telling a lie of my own. “I wrote down every single incident. I’m going to tell the whole world what you did.”
“No one will believe you.”
“They believe me here. I have friends here, and I’ve told them what you did to me. If anything happens to me now, they’ll know it was you. See, I can finally tell the truth, because I’m not trapped. I got out, and you can’t hurt me ever again. We’re not in your town any longer. We’re in mine. And in Bluefern, you’re not above the law.”
He laughed, cruel and high-pitched, reminding me of a hyena on steroids. “You think anyone cares about you? It’s obvious you’re as worthless as you always were. You’re nothing without me. Living in this cheap motel. Jesus, it stinks of mold in here. This is what you think is best for our daughter? You left me for this?”
“Chloe’s fine because she’s with me, and her daddy isn’t knocking the crap out of me every night.”
“No, you’re still all nervous and skinny—a frightened little bird—that’s all you are. My God, you’re such an idiot. And you grow uglier by the day. Your looks are gone, babe. No man’s ever going to love you or take care of you like I did. There’s not a soul alive that’ll even notice you’re gone. No one but me ever wanted you. Admit it.”
“My daughter wants me,” I said. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her away from you.”
“I never laid a hand on her.”
“Liar. You almost killed her—that night you hurled her against the wall—remember that?”
“Where is she?” He pushed the barrel of the gun against my chest.
I yelped from pain. “I’ll never tell you.”
“She’s my kid.”
“You never cared about her. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let your horrible family raise my daughter.”
“Don’t say anything about my family.” He raised his arm and then smacked me hard across the face with his empty hand. For a moment, I saw stars. Please don’t come yet, I thought, trying to send a silent message to Winthrop. We need more.
“What are you going to do about it? Kill me? Because that’s the only way you’re getting near my daughter again. She doesn’t even remember you. In fact, I have a new man in my life and she’s starting to think he’s her dad. Not the loser who donated his sperm.”
I’d never spoken to him like this. For a moment, confusion showed his eyes. I’d knocked him off his game. He didn’t know what to do.
“Go ahead,” I said. “Kill me. Do it. You know you want to. Finish off what you started so many times. Leave me here to die like you were planning to do the night I left.”
“Shut up.” He banged my head against the wall.
I cried out in pain, but I wasn’t giving up. Keep goading him, I told myself. “You remember how it went. Don’t pretend you didn’t. You pistol-whipped me, and the pain was so bad I thought I was going to pass out, but then I don’t know what happened—maybe it was Jesus by my side—but I found the strength to fight you. I’d been practicing kickboxing so I could finally fight back, and it worked. I got you on the ground like you were a drunk little girl. When that gun went off, it was meant for me, not you.”
He reared back as if I’d hit him. In the next second, he reached for his gun, cocked it, and pushed it into my forehead. “Any last words, you stupid bitch?”
“Yes, John Underwood. I have a whole bunch to say.” I said his name a little too loudly. For a split second I thought I’d tipped him off, but then chaos broke out.
The door banged open, and the sheriff and his deputies charged into the room. John turned his head, but the barrel of the gun remained where it was, pressed against my flesh. Tension and heat radiated from his body as he grabbed and forced me in front of him. His free arm snaked around my neck. His breath hot against my skin. With his other hand, he brought the gun to my temple.
“I’ll shoot her. I will,” John shouted.
