Page 9 of Double Dirty
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 andwalked 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.
I was supposed to call Leo when I left. But my phone was on the ground, and I was going to die instead. He’d be so mad at me, I thought vaguely, for not calling him. And Rafe—Rafe! Rafe had taught me something about chokeholds. I tried to hold on to the thought, but I was so scared. I kept trying to back away and couldn’t. His hands were big and tight around my throat. It hurt so much that my legs were buckling already.
Step in toward him.
Drop your head straight down.
Dip to the side under his arm and run like hell.
It came back to me. Thank God it came back to me. I did it fast before I could lose consciousness. I moved in, dropped my head straight and ducked under his arm. He was on me then, dragging me to the ground. It knocked the wind out of me, but I kicked out, scrambled to my feet. I staggered toward my car, yanked open the door and locked it once I was in. I started the car and sped off, skidding andweaving until I was on the main road. I drove like hell all the way to the office. I stumbled in and started up my computer, pulling up report forms. I found my hands were shaking too hard to even type. I went into Janet’s office. She was on the phone, but she dropped it at once.
“Jesus, your neck. What happened?”
I tried to answer but my throat felt thick and achy, raw. I managed a rough whisper, “Watts grabbed me. Choked me.”
“Okay, we’re going to the ER. Is there anybody I can call for you?” she asked. I shook my head.
“Can I use your phone? I lost mine when he grabbed me.”
I used hers to text Leo.Lost my phone, but back at the office. See you at sparring.I didn’t say I was fine because I wasn’t, but I’d get a new phone tomorrow. I wouldn’t have to face either of the guys till Saturday. If I’d had to see them or even hear their voices I would’ve crumbled under my thin composure and started bawling. It was better to keep them at a distance, not to tell them what happened.
Janet took me to the ER herself and filled out a lot of the paperwork on her tablet for me, just asking me the questions. She was great about everything and she insisted I file a police report. She called it in and had them send someone to the ER to question me so I wouldn’t have to go into the station to make a statement. It made me shake just talking about it. I never wanted to think about it again. She talked about the implications for the case, about discontinuing visitation attempts until an investigation was conducted. All I could think about was the little girl, how I hadn’t helped her. I’d just shown up, tried to show her dad a list and nearly gotten myself strangled in the process. I was sorry, so sorry that I had failed her. I shook my head again and again,even as the doctor worked me up and talked about bruising and resting and fluids and putting an ice pack on my neck.
Janet took me back to my car and insisted I take the next day off to recover. I drove home, changed to my pajamas and checked the lock on my door about twenty times. I couldn’t concentrate on TV or my library book. I just iced my neck and lay there on the couch under a blanket, scared out of my mind and blaming myself.
Staring in the mirror, I shuddered. The white part of my left eye was almost completely red from the blood vessel that had burst from being strangled. My face was puffy. Bruising made dark stripes on my neck and cuffed my arms. I showered, wishing I could scrub off the marks he’d left on my skin. When I cried, my throat ached.
The next day I had to make myself go to the police station to sign my statement and answer a few more questions. I wore sunglasses. Everyone at the station probably thought I was a battered wife, I thought. Not that it made any real difference. Bruises were bruises, after all.
Later, I got a replacement phone. I couldn’t make myself eat anything so I just sipped some water. I huddled under a blanket again with the TV on, desperate for company. Janet had called to check up on me, but I let it go to voicemail. She’d think I was resting, not staring crazily at my door like someone was going to burst through it and finish me off. When Rafe called to see if was coming to spar at the gym, I answered. Part of me needed to hear his voice, needed to connect with another human. I told him I’d be there.