Sure, I could try to explain what happened to the police and hope they take me with them, throw me in witness protection, and all of this will become a distant memory. But then I’d never see the guys again, and I meant it.
I’m not willing to give them up.
Maybe that makes me greedy, but so what? Wanting to be happy isn’t a crime, and even if it was, I’d still risk it. If I’m not willing to fight for them, then why the hell should they bother fighting for me?
Julian returns with two police officers in tow. He politely gestures for them to have a seat on the opposite couch before sitting beside me. He doesn’t wrap an arm around my shoulders or anything over the top. He simply relaxes close enough that our thighs touch before withdrawing his phone from his pocket, setting it face down on his leg.
The other men file the motion away, no doubt assuming he’s recording the entire conversation since his lawyer isn’t present, and share a glance with each other as they perch uncomfortably on the edge of the cushion. They have similar builds and features enough they might as well be brothers. The only real difference is that one’s chestnut hair is a few shades lighter with a harder edge to him, taking point.
“Let’s cut to the chase here, Mr. King. We’re all aware of why we came out today. If you’d be so kind, we’d like to speak with Ms. Miller privately.”
Glancing at Julian, I watch him plaster a well-practiced smile on his face, charismatic to a fault in public. “Of course, my apologies.” Turning to me, he leans in, placing a hand on my knee while kissing my cheek. “I’ll be upstairs if you need anything, love, just shout.”
With a wink, I try to ease the mounting tension. “Always do.”
His gaze roves over me slowly, trying to read between the lines to discern what’s an act, and what’s genuine. The men across from us watch my face, not paying attention to the way that Julian slides his phone between the cushions with his free hand as he pushes himself up.
We all watch him leave, waiting until the sound of his footsteps taper off before speaking. The same man pins me in place with a harsh look, but it falls flat compared to the ones I’ve been facing lately.
“Ms. Miller,” he starts, but I cut him off.
“Elysium is fine.”
“Elysium,” he corrects, still frowning. “I’m Garret Johnson, and this is my partner, Ardyn Hunter.” He gestures to the other cop, a much kinder look about that one that makes me second guess my plan, like he might actually care and want to help. “Care to explain how you came to stay here?”
I give them the heavily abridged version, leaving out everything about the initial debt and simply focusing on the abuse.
Ardyn cuts in, looking confused. “Why not leave the day you turned eighteen, then?”
Biting my lip, I initially try to keep my cool, stay upbeat and light like I intended. But for once, I don’t keep the swell of emotion at bay, blinking through my watery eyes. “He tore my mom apart when she tried to leave. Leaves a lasting damn impression.”
They both lean forward, Ardyn withdrawing a notepad. “You never reported it? Any of this? We’ve had a unit asking around your old neighbors, and so far, not a single person can corroborate your story.”
My fingers tighten on the edge of the couch cushion beneath me. “Nobody there gives a shit about me. They knew; they all fucking saw what he did to us, and nobody did a damn thing to stop him. ‘It’s a man’s business how he runs his household’.” I spit the words, glaring at Garret, his stoic face as devoid of emotion as most of the people without a lick of humanity I grew up around. “So when I finally got a chance to get the hell out of there, of course I took it.”
Taking slow breaths, I try to regain a semblance of composure. I need to make this go well, because it’s the only thing I can actually fucking contribute to keeping the guys safe right now. We all have our roles. Mine may be acting like a simpering doll rather than anything impressive, but I’m the only one that can play the part.
Tucking my hair behind my ear, I sigh heavily and backpedal. “I’m sorry. As you can imagine, I had a pretty awful childhood, and it’s hard to forgive any of the people that refused to help me because I wasn’t their problem or concern.”
Ardyn’s eyes narrow and I follow his line of sight, my mouth clamping shut. When I lifted my arm, my sleeve slid down to reveal part of my wrist, the one that still has the faded handprint from Maverick.
Think on your feet, think on your feet. Can’t let them think Julian’s beating you, need them to believe I came here willingly, that it’s my refuge.
My eyes widen as it dawns on me.Forge a new path.
He saw, so I can’t call it back. But I can take Maverick’s warning to heart, and spin shit in my favor.
I don’t try to hide my sudden stiffness or widened eyes from the men in front of me. Instead, I let them interpret my epiphany as fear. Staring right at the kinder of the two, my gaze flicks to the space between the couch cushions where Julian slid his phone, praying that he gets it. His face scrunches up as he opens his mouth to speak, but his partner suddenly smacks him on the shoulder, getting to his feet.
“We’re sorry to hear about all you’ve endured, Ms. Miller.” His mouth presses into a thin line as he subtly tips his head, and I visibly slump my shoulders in relief, mouthing a silent thank you. “I think we have all we need. Can’t fault a lady for getting the hell out of dodge the first chance she got.” He starts walking out of the room and I rise to follow, wanting to ensure I escort them out of the door so they don’t get a chance to snoop around the house. “After all, the only thing we can do in this life is try to pick the lesser evil sometimes.”
Gritting my teeth, I smile. “No need to be rude, officer. Julian’s a generous man, coming to my rescue like he did. I would hardly consider that picking the lesser evil, and more of a saving grace. As soon as I heard my father was trying to hunt me down, I was understandably terrified.” I meet his gaze and hold it. “But Julian has gone above and beyond to assure me that no one can step foot in or out of this house without him knowing, that it’s the safest place I could possibly be.”
We reach the door, his partner opening it and remaining silent, but face hostile now. He doesn’t hide his emotions nearly well enough, and I pray that Julian isn’t watching from somewhere, that I can get them out of the door before he gives anything away.
“Ms. Miller, I just have one more question, if I may?” Garret asks. Fingers tightening on the doorframe as they step outside, I gesture for him to continue. “How did you come to meet Mr. King in the first place? The two of you randomly bumping into each other on a farm in the middle of nowhere seems highly unlikely, what with his line of work.”
The question makes me pause for a second, the answer not one anyone prepared me for. I recover quickly though, a chill running down my spine as the feeling of eyes on my back intensifies. With a shy smile, I focus my thoughts on Grave to make me sound genuine.
