Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
“Whoever this kid is, she’s better off without him,” Leo said, stepping back from me. “Seriously, give me one reason not to kick his ass.”
“I’d lose my license. There are privacy laws to stop us from talking about cases and clients.”
“You could find a safer job,” he said, jaw set.
“This is what I’ve always wanted to do, Leo. I used to be that kid, the one who needed an advocate, someone to make her family straighten up so she could be safe. I was powerless then, but I’m not now. I can help. I have all these resources I can provide to help them.”
“Lexi, please,” he said then.
I saw it then, the macho posturing slipping just enough that I could tell he was afraid for me. I almost crashed against him, burrowed back into his arms.
“I’ll be okay. I’m strong enough to do this. And it means the world to me that someone cares enough to worry about me. I’ve never—no one’s ever done that before.”
I swallowed hard, wondering why tears stung at the backs of my eyes and why I felt this weird, buoyant surge of happiness just because Leo was concerned for me. Because I mattered to him.
I’d had friends before, people I hung out with in college and at my first waitress job, but they weren’t the kind that checked on you if you were sick or sad. They weren’t like this.
“You’ll call me if you need anything? And you promise that if you feel afraid or even a little weird while you’re there, that you’ll get in your car and leave?”
“I promise,” I said.
“Call me when you leave there. I just want to hear that you’re okay.”
“I will,” I said.
When I made the turn onto the dirt road, I was going over everything Rafe had taught me about verbal de-escalation and escape strategies. I planned to pull in, then back up to point my car toward the road and the driver’s door nearest me before I got out. I’d have my keys in my pocket. I had on running shoes instead of my usual flats. I had my hair twisted and pinned flat to my head so there was no ponytail for a handle. I had rehearsed what I was going to say, how I was going to be calm and conciliatory and offer him choices about how to proceed with meeting the court requirements. I was going to be brief and let him know that I was expected at another appointment in half an hour.
From my car, I called his number to inform him I’d arrived. He didn’t answer. I left a voicemail. The Harley and a couple of pickups were parked at the trailer, so someone was there. Drawing a ragged breath, I got out and walked to the steps. I resisted the urge to call my supervisor and have her on the phone when I knocked so I had a witness. Needing a witness was too scary to contemplate. So I steeled myself and knocked.
I heard noises inside, voices, something hitting the ground, something small like a can or a plate. I tensed, making myself smile, open and friendly, not confrontational.
He ripped the door open. I was shocked at the suddenness, at the fact that the dirty white door didn’t just fall off its hinges from the force. I swallowed hard.
“Good morning, Mr. Watts,” I said, “I tried to call—”
“Where is she?” he demanded.
His eyes were dark, his pupils too big. Drugs?
“Your daughter? She’s probably at school.”
“I fucking told you not to come back here without her,” he growled.
His voice sounded guttural. I stepped back as he stepped forward. I backed down the steps, put distance between us. I trembled, my knees turning to water. I wanted to whimper and scramble to my car, but that was cowardly. I made myself stand straighter.
“Let’s arrange for a visit. Would tomorrow be good for you?” I suggested in full placatory and productive mode.
“Get the fuck out of here and don’t come back unless she’s with you.”
“I’m sure you understand that I don’t have the power to return her to you. The court made a list of requirements you have to meet so you can—”
Watts loomed closer. I pulled out my phone, “This is the schedule for the parenting class.”
My phone hit the dirt. I watched it tumble in an arc and land as he grabbed me roughly.
He jerked me back by the arms and shook me. My teeth clattered together, my head swimming in shock as he dragged me close. I staggered back, but he had me around the neck. His hands, hard and pitiless, closed around my throat. I tried to scream, but I couldn’t. He was squeezing tight, gagging me, and cutting off my air, my eyes throbbing. I drew in what little air I could get in high gasps, tears pouring down my face. I was already getting woozy and weak. I gripped his wrists ineffectually. He was so much stronger than me. He wasn’t nearly as big as Rafe or even Leo, but he was so strong. I wanted to sob, sink to the ground, beg. He was going to kill me. His eyes were on my forehead, not even looking at me like I was a person he was killing. I dug my nails into his wrists, but he didn’t even flinch.