CHAPTER 8
Melissa
“I don’t want to see him,” Jennifer says to me. “I can’t do this.”
I’m an advocate for victim services, but as a director, my caseload is limited due to the severity of the cases I cover and my other obligations to the state. Jennifer’s case isn’t one I’m handling. Brenda is her advocate. But as much as Brenda means well, she’s new, and Jennifer has completely overwhelmed her.
I’m trying to remain calm, but with the murmuring echoing from all sides and the loud voices spilling from the courtrooms, I’ll admit, I’m overwhelmed. I motion Jennifer to the opposite side of the foyer, allowing the deputies escorting a row of shackled prisoners a wide berth to pass. Unfortunately, these men in their condition are the last thing Jennifer needs to see now.
“You can’t make me do this,” Jennifer whimpers, glancing back at them. “You can’t make me do that to him.”
I hold out my hands, keeping my voice soft. “No one is making you do anything. But your testimony can make a difference between Darren serving several years or just a few months.”
“But I love him,” she insists. “I don’t want to see him suffer. Did you see those men?”
“This isn’t about them,” I say, trying to keep her focused. “It’s about Darren and how he hurt you.”
“But I love him,” she insists, her voice cracking.
This is the hardest part of doing what I do. Some people are so broken they can’t be reasoned with. Jennifer, like many women in her situation, is scared to death of her abuser. He’s fractured her jaw, landed her in ICU, and placed her in debt she will never recover from. But she “loves” him. Or so she believes.
She doesn’t know what real love is. Having been abused all her life, her brain has conditioned her to think those you most love should also hurt you. Kindness and compassion are elements completely foreign to her. Which is why she’s in the situation she’s in.
If it weren’t for a police officer who witnessed the assault and pulled Darren off Jennifer, she wouldn’t even be here. She didn’t press charges, the police officer did. But he can only account for this one incident, and Jennifer is refusing to step up for the rest.
“Do you think Darren loves you?” I ask her carefully.
Her lips press tight. “Of course he does. He says it all the time.”
No. He says it after he beats you so you’ll stay. I don’t tell her this, obviously. It’s the last thing any victim needs to hear. Instead I put the blame back on Darren where it belongs. “If he truly cares about you, then why does he hurt you?”
Brenda stiffens beside me. She shies away from asking the tough questions. But the way Jennifer is reacting, this is no time to be shy.
“He gets upset. His job is really hard,” she says quickly, stumbling over her words. Something shifts in her expression as her gaze sweeps over me, turning her from a cowering little mouse to vicious hell cat. “But I suppose you don’t know anything about real work,” she snaps. “You walk in here with your expensive clothes and your pretty hair. I bet you’ve never known a day of manual labor in your life. Have you, princess?”
In the span of a few seconds I went from someone who could possibly help her to her worst enemy for questioning Darren’s devotion and challenging their so-called love. It’s no surprise she’s turned against me, it’s happened to me before.
I ignore her remarks and stay calm. Nice or not, she’s been hurt and needs my help. “Do you want to feel safe?”
She tightens her jaw.
“Jennifer,” I say. “Do you want to feel safe?”
“What do you think?” she fires back, her voice stabbing at the air like a blade.
“If you want to feel safe, the man who hurt you needs to be placed somewhere where he can’t reach you.”
“No,” she snaps. “He needs to be with me. He doesn’t belong anywhere else. I need him. Do you understand what I’m saying? We need each other.”
“You need kindness and patience, and to feel safe in your own home,” I say, doing my best to help her understand. “Help us give you that opportunity.”
Although I keep my hands loose at my sides, I’m prepared to block her strikes if they come. Someone as fragile and angry as Jennifer is unpredictable. She’ll either completely break down or lash out. I can’t presume to be safe simply because she’s a victim herself.
Her expression crumbles and at once she’s sobbing into her hands. I motion to Brenda. She hurries forward and places an arm around her. Thankfully, Jennifer welcomes the contact.
“I’ll be over here,” I mouth to Brenda, pointing to the small seating area.
She nods, but in many ways she’s also in bad shape. Brenda is really smart and gentle, but I’m uncertain she’ll last in SACU.
I take a seat on the bench and remove my hearing aids, trying to give myself a break from the constant assault of noise. The abrupt silence should scare me, and sometimes it’s extremely jarring. Today I welcome it, taking a moment to breathe as I scan the packed area.
Tess is pleading out her first case involving a teen perpetrator. The defendant is young, about sixteen, but taller than she and a great deal more imposing. It explains Curran’s presence, as well as the deputies loitering a few feet away eyeing her closely.
Detective Melo and Hernandez are also here, dealing with separate cases neither seem happy about.
Despite all the obvious tension, Declan’s arrival makes me smile. He marches toward me. I’m not sure if he’s going to pass or stop and chat. I hope it’s the latter. Given everything that’s happened with Dad, and everything going on in the office, there’s very little that makes me happy anymore.
Dad’s surgery went as well as could be expected, but that isn’t saying much. I lost it when the surgeon told me about the mass she discovered on his liver. If it hadn’t been for Declan arriving at the hospital, I don’t think I would have stopped crying that night. Like always, he appeared when I needed him most.
I sigh, thinking back to my dad. As soon as he gets stronger, he’ll start chemo. The doctor hopes it will help shrink the tumor so she can remove it. But that means another surgery, and I’m unsure how much more my poor Daddy can take.
At least three times a week, I visit him after work, then spend the weekend catching up on everything I’ve put off to be with him.
He always meets me with a brave face, joking that I need to get a life. I don’t tell him that a life without him is one I don’t want to know. Goodness, there’s been little to smile about.
Except around Declan.
“Hi,” I say, when he lowers himself beside me.
“How’s it going?” he asks. I can’t hear him, but I read his lips without much effort.
“It’s going,” I say, struggling to keep my smile professional.
Since Declan asked me out, we’ve kept our talks cordial. Well, at least I have. In truth, he’s been absolutely, panty-singeing, good-God-I want-to-kiss-him flirtatious. I’ve tried to dismiss it as something he does with everyone, but I’m no longer sure.
He frowns when he sees me holding my hearing aids. “Too loud?” he asks, lifting his chin so I have a view of his mouth and that face that’s appeared in my dreams.
“Yes,” I admit. I can hear myself speak, but not much else. It’s a good thing right now, the absence of sound helping me settle.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
He tilts his head in Tess’s direction. “Watching out for my own.”
I pause when I realize he’s only mouthing and not speaking. Since it involves Tess, perhaps he wants to be discreet given his role. The way he moves his full lips, though, is a bit of a turn on, and so is the way he’s taking me in.
I tell myself he’s only being friendly, no matter how much I’m enjoying the attention and despite that I no longer think Declan and I are just friends. We haven’t acted on our feelings. But with each day that passes and moments spent with him, makes it harder for me to keep my distance.
“It looks like she has a good handle on it,” I say.
“She does,” he agrees. “But this little bastard is too volatile for his own good. We’re pushing for a psych eval. Tess isn’t budging until she gets it.” He glances over to where poor Brenda continues to try to reason with Jennifer. “How’s it going over there?”
“I don’t think she’s going to testify,” I admit.
He shakes his head. “Ramirez has been working his ass off on this case. It’s not going to mean jack if she doesn’t step up. Did you try talking to her?”
“I did, but I don’t have a rapport with her and she shut me out.”
“I wish we could make her. But labeling her a hostile witness isn’t going to help.”
“No,” I agree. “Our side will just be taking on the role of her abuser.”
He watches her for a beat. “If she could just get away from this idiot, she could have a fresh start,” he says.
“Maybe. Maybe not. Even with him in prison, someone as damaged as Jennifer is likely to find another abuser to take his place.”
“Yeah. You’re probably right,” he says.
He lifts one of the hearing aids from my hand, holding it carefully by the clear and flexible hook. He examines it carefully, twisting it slowly around. Most people, when they imagine hearing aids tend to picture large clunky plastic devices. Mine are practically invisible.
“So when are you going to have dinner with me?” he asks.
This man, who positively drove me crazy, shouldn’t make me smile this easily. “I thought we decided it wasn’t a good idea.”
“No. You said it wasn’t a good idea. I’m saying it is.” He shrugs. “I know I’m not one of those half-naked cowboys on the cover of those naughty books you like . . .”
I bite down on my bottom lip to keep from laughing.
“Or a pirate on the seven seas, my bare chest exposed to the wicked winds.” He bows his head. “And if you want the truth, I don’t even own a kilt.”
I cover my mouth.
“But I’m not so bad. And if it’s the kind of thing that turns you on, I’m sure I can find a place that rents assless chaps.”
If it wasn’t so loud in the common area and he wasn’t turned so I’m the only one who could read his lips, I doubt he’d tell me everything he is.
I like what he has to say. Declan is tall, suave, handsome, I’ve always known that. But this is my favorite side of him, the one who teases and plays, and proves there’s more to this man than ambition.
“No need for ass-less chaps, I assure you.”
The twinkle in his eyes warms me in all the right places. “What about a parrot and an eye patch? Are pointy nipple pirates more your style?”
“No,” I say before I can stop myself. “I like you just the way you are.”
His gaze skims over my features. “Then what’s the problem? Personally, I like what I see.”
If I allowed it, I’d melt right in a puddle at his feet, but I can’t. “Declan, my dad’s your boss. We work together. This can’t possibly end well.”
“You won’t even give me a chance, will you?”
As our stares weld together and I realize I’m feeling more than simply lust, I want to give into that desire to fall into his embrace.
“It’s not a good idea,” I say again. I’m already vulnerable around him. If we start to date and things don’t work out . . . I can’t go there with him. Not if I’m going to stay strong for my father. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
“All right,” he says, placing my hearing aid gently against my palm.
I stand and make my way to the elevators, passing the crowd of people waiting for their turn before the judge. As I step into the elevator and turn back to face the group, my focus falls on Declan, and that’s where it stays. That’s where it always wants to stay.