“No,” she shook her head. “I meant I don’t need to do that because I’ve already done it.”
This surprised him. “You have?”
She nodded. “I started a journal a couple of years ago. That’s when it started to get really bad.”
“A journal will definitely help.”
“As soon as I could after an...incident, I’d write down every detail I could remember. Where
we were, what started it. Dates and times. I even took pictures of myself, then saved them on a jump drive before deleting them from my phone.”
“That was really smart.”
She shrugged. “It was done more out of fear than intelligence. I figured if something ever happened to me”—she paused—“if he killed me, then maybe someone would find it and realize what he’d done.”
Jesus. Derek wanted to torture the fucker to death for making her fear for her life.
“Where is the journal now?”
“That’s the problem. It’s in New York.”
“Your apartment?”
She nodded. “I kept it hidden beneath a loose floorboard under our bed.”
Derek thought for a moment. “Okay. That’s okay. I can gain access into the building and then figure out a way to break into the place.”
“You don’t have to break in.” She smiled. “I still have my key.”
****
Chapter 10
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“Istill don’t understandwhy I can’t go with you.”
