“Wear the red dress from prom tonight. Your ass looks hot in it,” the voice of
Christopher whispered from behind me.
I whipped around to face him. “What did you say?” I snapped.
“Wear the red dress I bought you for dinner tonight. It looks great on you,”
Jeremy answered. “Hey, did you see a guy from your high school died?” He held
up the paper. “Did you know him?”
The bile rose in my throat as I stared at the image of my attacker. I vehemently shook my head. “No, no, I didn’t know him,” my voice a whisper.
“Good. He sounded like a real piece of work.” Jeremy folded the paper and
set it down. “What’s going on with you today? You look horrible.”
“I’m not feeling well. I woke up feeling like this,” I lied.
“You aren’t pregnant, are you?” Jeremy scowled.
“I’m 100% sure that is not the case,” I quickly answered.
“Good. Well, rest up today. I need you tonight.” He placed the dirty dishes in
the sink and wrapped his arms around me.
I flinched at his touch.
“Oh, babe, you are warm. Let’s tuck you into bed.” He scooped me up and
carried me to our bed. Once I was under the covers, Jeremy kissed me on the forehead, darkened the room, and then brought me a glass of water. Handing me
a bottle of pain medicine, he said, “Get some rest, and I’ll check in later.”
When he was gone, I returned to the kitchen. The newspaper was gone. I frantically dug through the recycling. Instead, I found it in the garbage covered in coffee grounds. Wiping off the slime, I stared at the image.
“SON OF RENOWNED LAWYER FOUND DEAD” shouted at me. I
skimmed the article. Linked to sex and drug trafficking. The story claimed Christopher had been drugging women for years and selling them to the highest
bidder.
Dozens of women had come forward with allegations. Two of his accusers were able to gather enough evidence for the district attorney to prosecute. One woman claimed she had been assaulted by Christopher and his friend, Travis Warner, her freshman year of high school. She insisted others would have been
found if the men hadn’t died.
The official causes of death were determined to be suicide. The letters found
indicated there had been a death pact.
The phone rang, startling me.
“Did you see the paper,” Thomas said before I could say hello.
“I’m looking at it now. Is it finally over, T?” I cried.
“It is. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
Thomas comforted me while I processed my relief. I didn’t have to watch over my shoulder, wondering if Christopher would appear. No one would find out what happened to me. I would let the official count of women assaulted by
those monsters remain one less.
By the time Jeremy showed up, I had composed myself enough to go to
dinner. The man who supposedly cared for and cherished me was too oblivious
to see I was in pain. All he saw was the beautiful wife who would charm his clients.
Sixteen
Thomas burst into my office and sat down on the manuscript I was
editing. “I met a boy in San Diego, and we are getting married.”
Wonderful. We are going to start the day quoting old movies. I set
