“You couldn’t have avoided that accident.” He wrapped his arms around me.
“I put us there,” I said as he kissed my jaw.
“You weren’t the drunk driver who would have hit anyone on the road that night. You were there because your husband beat the shit out of you. It was Eric’s fault you were there. You are not a murderer. I need you to say it and to believe it.”
He waited while I processed his words.
“Tell me you’re not a murderer.” He held both my hands in his, tracing circles with his thumbs on the back.
I hadn’t looked at it quite like that before. Maybe it had been just an accident. I’d had good luck and Eric’s had been terrible.
“Tell me,” Christopher said.
“I’m not a murderer,” I whispered.
He patted the spot in front of him on the couch and I moved from beside him to sit there and he wrapped himself around me. Our hearts beat in sync. I’d never felt closer to anyone. I’d come clean. He saw inside my head and believed in my innocence. The part of me that had believed I was guilty for so long, healed.
When we had sex that night, I cried out Christopher’s name, as I shuddered with repeated orgasms that left me weak and exhausted. Unburdening myself had been liberating.
Chapter 14
Christopher and I cleaned the cabin and left on Sunday after a quick lunch. We’d restocked the wood supply, and changed the sheets and towels, leaving everything ready for the next time. If the roads were clear, we planned to come for another getaway between Christmas and New Years. I considered turning on my phone to check my messages to let my family know our arrival time, but I didn’t want to interrupt the last of our alone time. To my surprise, I’d enjoyed being off the grid. I hadn’t had trouble communicating.
It was five o’clock when we arrived at my dad’s house, hungry for Thanksgiving dinner. There was a police cruiser parked by the curb, so I guessed Andrew must have come straight from work. Sometimes a fellow officer dropped him off. Officers sat in the car, but I paid little attention. We stepped out of the SUV and Christopher squeezed my hand as we walked toward the house.
We got as far as the top of the front steps when there was activity from the police car and I glanced over my shoulder. Two officers in navy blue uniforms stepped out. I didn’t recognize either of them.
“Christopher Winters?” said the officer, who was closest to us.
“I’m Christopher Winters.” Christopher turned to face them.
He raked his hand through his hair and his shoulders tensed. I hoped this wasn’t about his brother and that nothing had happened to Brandon while we’d been gone. Christopher wouldn’t forgive himself if there’d been a problem. Or had someone broken into his house? Scenarios ran through my mind.
I hadn’t knocked on the door, but Meghan flung it open and yanked me inside, tearing my hand from Christopher’s grasp.
What had gotten into her? Her behavior was odd, but I was more concerned about the police. Meghan was a brief distraction.
Looking back outside, the officer had pulled her gun. To my horror, she pointed it at Christopher. My heart leapt to my throat, and I froze. This had to be a mistake.
“Christopher Winters, you have the right to remain silent. Walk toward the sidewalk. When you get there, drop to your knees and put your hands behind your head,” said the other officer.
I didn’t understand. I could tell from Christopher’s face that he too was confused, though he complied with their orders.
“May I ask what this is regarding?” he said from his knees.
He sounded calm. I was upset for him and tried to follow, but Meghan held my arm in a firm grip. I yanked several times, but she stood in the doorway to block me and was immovable. I couldn’t get past without hurting her.
“It’s okay, Lizzie,” Christopher said, noticing my struggle. “There must be a mistake. I’ll get it sorted out and come back to get you in a few hours.”
Meghan stepped forward on the porch. In her distraction, I shot past her and ran down the stairs.
“There’s no mistake, you sick bastard,” Meghan spat.
I stumbled as I whipped my head around, shocked at her tone.
“Miss, stay back,” shouted the first officer.
I swallowed and stopped in my tracks, midway between the police and the house. Torn between following orders and getting to Christopher.
