I kicked back on the Adirondack chair I’d picked up in town. It came with one of those footrest things that made for perfect lounging. I grabbed the tennis ball from my lap as I took a sip of my beer.
“See, being suspended isn’t so bad.”
Clyde stared up at me doubtfully.
“Don’t give me that look. It’ll be awesome. I’ll be here to hang out with you all day long.”
He barked.
“Okay, okay.” I lobbed the ball from the back deck into the yard.
Clyde bounded after it. At least it wasn’t my shoe. I’d come home to another one destroyed. And he never went for the same set. Always a single one from each pair.
I took another sip of beer. I wanted the relaxation of the moment to really kick in. But it didn’t. Instead, that low hum of anxiety still coursed through my muscles.
“Keep the faith.” That was what Lawson had said as he drove me back to the station and deposited me at my vehicle. I wanted to trust the system I’d spent my adult life a part of, but I knew it didn’t always work the way it should.
I’d called my dad on the way home. To say he was pissed would be an understatement. He wanted me to hire a lawyer. Said it was the way these people played ball. But the idea of suing Adam for defamation of character just made me feel slimy.
With Dan, I knew everything would get sorted out easily. He’d burned enough bridges that he didn’t have a leg to stand on. And no one in the county wanted him on their SAR team. But Adam was different. He had made manipulation into an art form.
The sound of tires on gravel carried from around the house. Clyde let out a bark of warning.
I glanced at my watch. I should’ve guessed that Maddie wouldn’t make it to the end of her shift. Not when she was worried about me.
I hated that he’d done that, too. As if all Adam had put her through so far hadn’t been enough.
The front door closed, but Maddie didn’t say anything.
“Back here,” I called.
Clyde dropped the tennis ball beside my chair, and I threw it again. He took off after it.
The back door opened, and Maddie stepped out. The second I took in her face, I knew something was wrong. Her skin was far too pale, and her eyes were wide.
I kicked my feet off the footrest and stood, crossing to her. “What happened?”
“I-I should’ve known.”
I brushed the hair away from her face. “Should’ve known what?”
Those deep blue eyes met mine, so full of sorrow. “That he’d never let me go.”
My entire body went rigid. Was this because I’d been suspended? “Mads, it’ll be okay. I promise. The council will see reason.”
She shook her head back and forth in a staccato rhythm. “You don’t get it. You don’t get him. He’s—he’s—”
Maddie struggled to get the words out as her breaths came faster and faster, panic setting in.
“Mads…” I pulled her into my arms, sitting on the Adirondack chair and holding her close. “You gotta breathe.”
The tears started then, punctuated by her struggle for breath. What the hell had happened?
“Nice and easy. In for three, out for three.” I counted them off for her, and she struggled to get control.
Slowly, Maddie’s breaths came easier, more evenly. I kept her folded in my arms.
“Can you tell me what brought this on?”
She gripped my T-shirt. “Adam called.”
I stiffened, my muscles turning to stone. “Tell me you kept the voicemail.”
“I answered,” she said softly.
I inhaled sharply.
“I was so mad,” Maddie hurried to explain. “I just wanted him to stop.”
“What did he say?” My voice was remarkably calm. I didn’t feel even an inkling of that calmness within me, but at least I wouldn’t terrify Maddie.
She swallowed, trying to find the words. “He taunted me with your suspension.”
Of course, he had. But that also told me he was keeping a close eye on the council and that he potentially had someone on the inside giving him information.
“He said that if I met with him, he’d drop the complaint against you.”
My pulse thundered in my neck. “Please tell me you didn’t believe that.”
She scoffed. “Of course, I didn’t. But I thought that if I just told him face-to-face that we were done, maybe he’d leave.”
I struggled to keep my hold on Maddie gentle. “Did. He. Touch. You?”
She shook her head. “No. I made him meet me at Dockside Park where I knew there would be a bunch of people. He’d never hurt me in public.”
Only in private. The way he had so many times before. The thought made me sick.
Maddie pulled back so she could see my face. “He hates you.”
“I don’t give a damn if he hates me. He’s garbage.”
“No, he hates you. He always has. I didn’t see it until it was too late…”
Something about the complete despair in Maddie’s voice had dread setting in.
“What do you mean?” My voice sounded far away, even to my ears.
Tears tracked down her cheeks. “He must’ve known how I really felt about you.”
Icy claws dug into my gut.
“At first, he just got annoyed when you and I talked. Then he got angry. Would yell at me. Accuse me of being unfaithful.”
Sweat gathered at the base of my spine. “Tell me he didn’t hurt you because of me.”
The tears came faster, and I had my answer.
“How often?” I asked.
I played back how the last few years had gone. At first, we’d talked daily, then less and less. I’d been annoyed. Hurt. Angry that Maddie could move on so easily, as if I were just a casual acquaintance. But all that time…
“It doesn’t matter,” she said softly.
I stood, setting Maddie on her feet. I couldn’t sit still. I had to move. Clyde jumped between us, thinking it was a game.
“Of course, it matters. How often?” My voice had a bite to it. It wasn’t directed at Maddie. It was all for me. How could I have been this blind? Again.
Tears slid off her chin, falling to the ground. “Not every time.”
My heart stopped. “But close.” My words were barely audible.
“He didn’t always hit me. Sometimes, he just yelled. But the day I left him…You called to tell me about Drew’s lacrosse game. He wasn’t supposed to be home for hours. I was so happy that we could just talk like old times.”
The conversation replayed in my mind. We’d talked for longer than we had in months. I’d been so damn relieved. It’d felt like I had a piece of Maddie back.
“I didn’t hear him come home. Usually, I’m more careful, on alert, but we were laughing about the crazy parents yelling at the ref’s calls.”
“That one mom who got ejected.” My voice was dull, empty of all emotion.
Maddie nodded. “When I hung up, he stepped into the living room. He knew exactly how long we’d been talking. Had timed it. I tried to get away and run for the door, but he was on me too fast.” A tear slipped free, cascading down her cheek. “I’ve never seen him that mad. I thought he was going to kill me.”
I sucked in a breath. Acid coated every atom, leaving behind burns I’d never recover from.
I tried to do the math in my head. Calculate just how many times I’d been the catalyst for Maddie’s torture. But there were too many to count.
“Why didn’t you just block my calls?” I croaked.
“I couldn’t. It would’ve been like cutting off a limb.”
Instead, she’d paid the price for us both.
