“How long have you and Tommy been married?”
“Technically, almost seven years. But we’ve been legally separated for the last year. And before you say it, I know I should have left him sooner, but it’s not as easy as everyone thinks. I had a daughter to protect, and Tommy controlled everything in our lives. The bank accounts, the keys to the cars, the phones…” She sighed. “Everything was in his name.”
“I’m not judging you, Allsion.” Liam’s expression matched the sincerity in his voice. “You don’t ever have to worry about that with me.”
“Thank you,” she whispered softly, holding his empathetic stare.
“Where is Maddie now?”
“At a shelter here in town. It’s owned by a woman named Naomi Bartel. She was the one who suggested I come to Delta Team in the first place.”
“I know Naomi,” he confirmed. “Her building’s over on West Sixtieth.”
His knowledge of the woman and the place where Allison was staying seemed to help her relax a little more.
“Normally, I’d never trust my daughter’s safety to anyone else, but there’s an in-house daycare for its residents. Naomi assured me the volunteers at the shelter are all highly are vetted, and I didn’t think a meeting like this one was appropriate for a six-year-old.” Her body shifted slightly against the chair’s soft leather. “She also said she’s worked with your team in the past, and that I should trust you. And I really hope that’s true, because I honestly don’t have anywhere else to go.”
Liam leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk’s smooth surface. Doing his best to put her immediate worries at ease, he offered a reassuring, “You definitely came to the right place, Allison.”
“She said your team has worked cases like mine before.”
“If you mean cases involving obsessive, abusive, sometimes deadly husbands, then yeah.” He nodded solemnly. “We’ve worked a few of those cases, unfortunately. Mostly ones where the jerks involved—or more accurately, their lawyers—are sly enough to keep any potential charges from sticking. We’ve even worked alongside the CPD on a few of them.”
“I can’t risk going to the cops,” she stated as if it were a matter of fact. “Tommy owns half the force in Seattle, but it doesn’t stop there. He has money, and with that wealth comes a seemingly endless line of connections.”
“What kind of connections?”
“My husband runs in many different circles, Mr. Cutler. Cops, politicians…criminals. Basically, anyone he can use to get what he wants.”
“And what he wants is you dead?”
“Yes.” Her blonde curls bounced with an immediate nod. “Tommy wants our daughter all to himself. Not because he loves her, but because he refuses to let me win.”
There was no doubt or trepidation there, but rather a certainty he couldn’t ignore. Whether Tommy Gallo truly wanted to see his wife dead remained to be seen. But one thing Liam did know was that the asshole would never get that chance.
“His reputation is everything, Mr. Cutler,” Allison began again. “Above all else, Tommy craves power. It’s like he has this deep-seated need to always be the one in control.”
I can only imagine the kinds of things that happen when the bastard loses that control.
“What changed?” Liam needed to know.
“What do you mean?”
“You said you stayed with him until a year ago. What made you choose now to leave him?”
The look that crossed over her tore at his heartstrings with much more force than it should have given they were strangers.
“Three days before Maddie’s sixth birthday he came home in a particularly bad mood. I tried getting him to talk to me, but all he did was yell. Then he started throwing things. First, it was the glass he’d been drinking from. Next came the vase of freshly cut flowers he demanded always kept on display. Until that night, his anger had always been directed at me, but then…”
When her voice trailed, Liam gently encouraged her to give him the rest. “Tell me.” His tone was gentle yet firm.
“He reached behind his back and pulled out a gun.”
His stomach dropped. The idea of her—or any other woman, for that matter—being threatened in such a way made him physically sick to his stomach. No one had the right to treat others like that. No. One.
Not even my bastard of a father.
“Please tell me he didn’t?—”
