Harry came back as promised with a milkshake and started a routine that they followed for the next week. Morning rounds and the snack break erased some of Desi’s hesitancy around her, but only a little. Rachel had been right—whatever had happened to Desi, it had left her broken and compliant. They chatted but stayed far away from the subjects they both knew needed to be broached.
“I think you’re ready to be discharged in the morning,” she said as she sat next to the bed. “You have some more bed rest ahead of you, but you’ll be more comfortable when you aren’t being disturbed all night by nurses and attendants.”
“Are you sure you want us there? We won’t be in your way?” Desi’s questions were hesitant, as if she didn’t know if she had the right to ask them. Harry was getting used to Desi not making much eye contact.
“Rachel and Tony have broken me in—I’m used to having houseguests, so no worries.” It turned out Rachel was unobtrusive and spent plenty of time working, so it hadn’t been all that difficult having her there. There’d been no word from Landry, and she wasn’t sure what that meant. “I know you don’t like talking about it, but have you heard from the detective?”
Desi sucked on her straw in an obvious delaying tactic. “He called yesterday and said they haven’t found Byron yet. They think he skipped bail.”
“Are they looking for him?” There wasn’t a future for her and Desi, but she did want Desi to have a future.
“He said they are. Maybe I should go somewhere else.” Desi put her shake down and pressed her hands together. “You don’t deserve to be dragged into this.”
“No, what you need to do is put a fire under these guys.” This was ridiculous. Byron deserved to be caged and beaten for what he’d done. The plastic surgeon who took care of the cut on Desi’s temple had mentioned some of the other small scars on Desi’s face to her. None of that mattered—Desi was still beautiful. But Byron’s abuse had lasted long enough.
“No one pays much attention to these cases, Harry. It’s my fault, after all.”
“I have a friend in the DA’s office who handles almost all the domestic violence cases.” She softened her voice because Desi didn’t need her anger, even if it was on her behalf. “If I call her, would you talk to her?”
“Do you think it would help?”
“Serena can walk you through the process, so you’ll know what to expect. Roger can make promises that Byron will go away for a long time, something he deserves, but it’ll be Serena who’ll actually make it happen.” She leaned forward and rested her hand on the bed. Close enough to touch, but not actually crossing that line.
“You don’t think he’ll go to jail?” Desi rubbed her hands together in a nervous tic kind of way.
“I don’t know more than what Serena has told me, but the most important factor to the success of any case is you. Getting away from him is something you have to want and something you have to follow through on.”
Desi looked at her and didn’t waver. “Is that something you think I don’t want?”
“Only you can answer that.” She almost turned her head, not comfortable with the sudden intensity of Desi’s gaze. That was so strange, considering she’d lived to bask in Desi’s attention. “It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, so I can’t begin to guess what’s in your heart and mind.”
Desi took a breath and it started her tears. “God, you must think I’m so pathetic.”
“Let me finish.” She took a chance and held Desi’s hand. “I don’t think you’re pathetic—I never did—but I do think you need to decide what happens next. Don’t let anyone push you in a direction you don’t want to go.”
“No one’s given me a choice in a long time.” Desi covered her face with her free hand and sobbed.
“You had the strength to survive, and I know you have the courage to say enough.” She continued speaking softly until Desi faced her again.
“Trust me, there’s nothing courageous about me.”
“I can’t fathom what you’ve been through, but I don’t think this was a first-time thing.” She gripped Desi’s hand. “No one has a right to do this to you, and it’s up to you to demand different. That’s a first step to peace.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, and all this, as well as your injuries, will get better. All you need is faith.” She squeezed Desi’s fingers before standing.
“I’ll try my best.”
“I know you will, and you won’t have to do it alone.”
Harry left to do rounds, but her thoughts stayed with Desi all day. She couldn’t imagine what it had been like to live with that fear, to become so beaten down and lost. And she couldn’t imagine what life was going to be like having Desi around all the time.
* * *
“She has to be there,” Byron Simoneaux said to the receptionist at University Medical. He’d been out of jail for a few days and had been sleeping at his brother Mike’s house, ignoring the police that kept stopping by and banging on the door.
Spending a night in lockup was enough to convince him he didn’t want to go back, and the cops looking for him meant he was going back. All he had to do was find the bitch he was married to and explain a few things in a way she’d understand perfectly, and then the cops would back off.
“She had surgery and was discharged that night,” the woman said for the third time. “I have no idea where she went, and I don’t know how else to explain it to you.”
Fuck. He didn’t want to cause a scene, so he moved to the side and called his brother. “Did you go by my place like I asked?”
“What the hell happened in there? There’s blood on the floor and stuff’s everywhere.”
“Forget that shit. Desi and that bitch Rachel haven’t shown up?”
“Place was locked up, and no one’s there. She’s not at the hospital?”
“Not anymore, and the old fucker at the desk won’t tell me where she is. Call me when you get home, and tell me if those cops are there.” He sat in the big lobby beating his fist against his knee and looking around.
“You still there?” Mike asked.
“Let me call you back.” He hurried to follow the guy in scrubs pushing a wheelchair. He’d seen this guy before, and the hospital credentials around his neck were a way to get answers. “Hey, man.”
The guy stopped and stared for a bit before smiling. “Hey. Bob’s Bar, right?”
That’s where he’d seen him. “Yeah, and maybe you can help me.” He explained what he needed, and his new friend didn’t appear reluctant. “I’m so worried about her after the accident, and no one here is telling me shit.”
“I’ll try, man. Come on.”
Forty minutes later his new friend found what Byron needed. Desi had herself moved as a way of hiding from him, of that he was sure.
“I owe you.” He slapped the guy on the back and headed out to the car he’d borrowed from his dad’s garage.
He’d have to play it cool at the next place, but finding Desi was important. All he had to do was remind her what was going to happen to her and her mouthy sister if she decided to talk to the police. That was the best way to keep Desi in line, and it’d worked from the time Clyde had started using it back in high school.
The cafeteria at Baptist wasn’t crowded, so he sat and waited for the visitors to start to thin. He didn’t want to talk to too many people, but the lady at the register told him most of the orthopedic patients were on the third floor.
He apologized to the patients he walked in on, but finally he stood in the doorway of the last room on the hall and stared at Desi as she slept. No matter the passage of years, Desi stayed pretty, but nothing he’d ever done for her had softened her heart when it came to loving him. The ungrateful little bitch had never learned that she belonged to him and she should be thankful she did.
Desi was completely relaxed, giving him the chance to walk in and stand next to the bed. Her leg was in a brace and her face had been stitched up, but she appeared fine despite the horrid bruise. The urge to touch her made him decide to start with her hand, and he wrapped his fingers around her wrist and squeezed, hard.
“Miss me?” he asked, smiling when her eyes grew wide with fear. “Make a noise, and I’m going to slit your throat and walk out of here and do the same to your slut sister.”
“Byron, please.” Desi appeared terrified, and that turned him on more than anything she could do for him. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s why they locked me up and keep coming by the house. You’re going to tell these people you’re ready to come home. We need to have a talk about how you can’t seem to learn anything.” He stopped before his voice got any louder and someone came in. “You know I don’t mean to hurt you. You know that, right?”
“Yes.”
He barely heard her and could see her hands trembling. “It’s you doing stupid shit that makes me do that.” He made a fist and beat it into the mattress, getting Desi to flinch. “I’m so tired of your dumb ass.”
“Please, Byron.” Desi moved back as much as she could, and the sudden expression of pain made him smile.
“You’re like a fucking anchor, and it’s time to let go.” He moved fast before she could scream and wrapped his hands around her throat. If Desi was dead, she couldn’t testify against him. No more trying to get her to understand. “Fucking die.”
Desi hit against his arms and moved the leg that wasn’t in a brace, but she wasn’t strong enough to stop him. He increased the pressure, feeling a sense of freedom that was close to euphoric. There’d been a time he couldn’t wait to get his hands on the beautiful woman who’d never given him a glance, but that’d been a mistake. It hadn’t taken long for him to figure out Desi was disgusted by his touch—not that it had stopped him, but it had fueled his anger. Granted, she took care of the house his father had given them, and she cooked, but she was no wife. The memory of the truth of that made him tighten his grip, and Desi finally stopped fighting.
He laughed again. “Bitch.” She was a dog that needed to be put down, and it would free him to find someone else. He smiled at that and tightened his grip. A noise made him look up, but then there was shooting pain and nothing but blackness.