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Stephen had sounded as though he actually wanted to kill me. He had put me down plenty of times in recent years but never with such vehement passion. He hadn’t seemed…right in the head. Overcome by emotions, his better sense had been ruled by reaction.
“Daniel,” Chantelle said, breaking into my thoughts, “I would like you to take Becky to my condo.”
A tear slid down my cheek as I continued to sit in silence, my entire world crumbling around me.
Chantelle squatted once more beside me and gathered my shaking hands between hers. “You’re going to make yourself at home. Food, wine—whatever you desire, help yourself. The guest room is yours for as long as you need it.”
I didn’t know what I wanted. What I needed…
My mind raced.
How would Stephen react once he got home? What he would do? My stomach twisted up even tighter as concern for him welled up inside me. He’d never been suicidal even when drinking himself into a stupor over work woes. But would he trash our home? Break all my things? Toss them outside? Go to the police and say my cousin kidnapped me?
“Becky.” Chantelle dropped my hands and grasped my face. “Look at me.”
I blinked, trying to focus on her concerned eyes.
“You’re safe.”
Her words didn’t register, but I heard them.
“He’s not going to touch you again without your permission, do you hear me?”
I nodded, still not processing.
“Daniel is going to drive you to my place where you’re going to relax in a hot bath. Sleep for hours. And in the morning, I’ll take you over to Stephen’s so you can gather some of your stuff.”
“I-I’m leaving him?” I asked, pretty sure that was what she suggested.
“Yes.” Her tone didn’t recommend arguing, but she’d always been a bossy person.
“What about clothes?” More tears welled in my eyes, making the sight of her face look like melting crayons. “I’m like t-twice your size.”
“Hardly.” She squeezed my hands and appeared to smile. “I have a few items here I can send with you, and like I said, tomorrow we’ll gather up some of your things.”
I chewed on the inside of my lip, once more contemplating Stephen’s reaction and torn over what to do. “I doubt he goes to work tomorrow. He…doesn’t do well on his own. Never has. What if he gets drunk and misses work again tomorrow? He’s down to his last strike with his boss.”
“Stephen is a grown man, Becky,” Chantelle said, her voice stern. “He is more than capable of caring for himself.”
I wanted to argue but knew she was right. How often had he told me that he didn’t need me, that he could just as easily make it on his own? Of course, within an hour, he always apologized.
Used to.
Chantelle pulled me to my feet and hugged me. Some of the tension leaked from me, and I sank against her, seeking strength and comfort since I couldn’t seem to find either inside me. “Daniel, will you stay with her until I get home?”
“Of course,” he agreed from behind me, his low tone comforting.
“He’ll keep you safe,” Chantelle assured me. “I trust him with my life, and you can too.”
I nodded against her shoulder, breathing deeply to dry my tears. A night away would be best. It would give Stephen time to calm down and allow me space to process what had happened to my body while I’d been bound in Master Cooney’s ropes.
“Thank you for offering your condo,” I said, pulling back and trying for a smile while wiping my cheeks dry of tears. “I’ve never seen Stephen so angry.”
“Can you do me a favor?” Chantelle asked, holding me at arm’s length.
I nodded.
“If you’re even half tempted to return to him anytime soon, I want you to think about what would have happened if you had gone home with Stephen tonight. Think of the pain and bruises he would inflict. Think of the verbal abuse he would have battered you with.”