Her stomach bottomed out. If he intended to leave her for dead, what better place to do it than in some hovel.
The only thing movable, besides the chair she sat in, was a tall lamp with a thick ceramic base. Her gaze followed the cord to the cracked outlet cover on the wall beside the desk. It wouldn’t be difficult to yank the cord from the wall, but the lamp shade would make swinging the lamp difficult.
“Here’s the deal.” Gun in hand, Patrick—now clad in clean jeans—stood stocking-footed on carpet that made the bedspread look clean enough to snuggle in.
She marveled at the depths Patrick had sunk to. He was right: She didn’t know him at all. Which made him even more terrifying.
“You’re going to call the Seattle Police Department and tell them you want to drop the charges against me.”
“It doesn’t work like that, Patrick. If I make the call under duress, it won’t be legally binding.”
He grabbed a pen and a 5 X 7 pad of paper from the desk drawer and slapped them down in front of her. “Then start writing! As soon as you’re done, we’ll head back to Seattle and you can deliver your statement first thing in the morning.”
No way would she go back to Seattle with him. It terrified Jessie to defy Patrick, but if she didn’t stand up to him, his power over her would forever haunt her.
She pushed the pad and pen away. “I won’t write it. You need to pay for what you did to me.”
Patrick was on her in a flash. He grabbed hair and yanked her out of the grimy chair. “You’ll do what I tell you, do you hear me?”
Pain seared Jessie’s scalp as tears stung her eyes. She bit her tongue to keep herself from screaming out. It would only anger him more.
The words Jessie had written on the last pages of the black journal—before putting it away and vowing to never get it out again except to take to court next week—filled her mind.
The letter Emily had counseled her to write to her abuser had filled several pages. The exercise helped her siphon off the negative emotions that kept her from moving forward in her life. She’d unloaded her heavy emotional baggage on those pages and in the process gained a measure of freedom.
But now, writing the words in a letter she never intended to send didn’t feel like enough. Patrick should hear them from her. They probably wouldn’t help her situation, but she needed to say them.
“I’m sorry,” she said, barely above a whisper.
His hold on her hair loosened. “You’d better be.”
“No, I’m sorry I couldn’t love you the way you wanted me to. I kept thinking if I just tried a little harder to be a better wife, I could make you happy.”
Patrick released her hair and stepped back, eyes wide.
Jessie took an additional step back. “But I’ve realized something since I left. You can’t love someone else if you don’t love yourself first. And despite your confidence and charm, I don’t think you ever loved yourself.”
Patrick’s face turned crimson, and he lashed out so fast Jessie didn’t have time to flinch.
The handle of the gun struck her cheek below the right eye with a force that knocked her off her feet. She fell against the small desk, hitting her stomach against the corner.
Half bent over, supporting herself with one hand against the desk, she wrapped her other arm around her stomach to protect her baby. Pain ricocheted through her side and face, blurring her vision. A sensation of warmth crept down her cheek.Blood.
“How dare you mock me?”
She sucked in a deep breath, trying to block out the pain. “I’m not mocking you. Over the past few months, I realized why you’re this way. Nothing you did was ever good enough for your father. You never learned to love yourself because he didn’t love you. And your mother never stood up for you for fear of retaliation from him.”
The strike this time came from the left, and with nothing for Jessie to catch herself on, she went down, cradling her stomach. Her head slammed into the leg of the chair, and darkness crowded in.
Patrick loomed over her with the gun as she fought to stay conscious.
Knowing it wouldn’t help, Jessie did the only thing she could. She screamed.
Chapter 39
Robert turned off his siren as he approached the Lazy Daze Motel. No need to alert Pendleton of his presence. He stopped his Tahoe a few doors away from room twenty-three and jumped out.
He skidded to a halt.
