Tate’s arm tightened around her, giving her the strength to finish the horrific account of the way her beautiful daughter’s life had ended.
“When I came home from the hospital with my baby, he became even more controlling, saying I didn’t want to have sex anymore. It was true. I couldn’t fake it. He made my skin crawl when he touched me.
“Scott was critical of everything. I wasn’t holding her right or making her take naps. He made me write down the times I breastfed her and for how long. One day, he shoved me when I was holding Valentine, and I almost dropped her. He blamed me, of course.
“When she was three months old, she developed colic, and he said the foods I was eating were to blame, giving her gas, so he made me put her on formula.” Sutton began shaking, the memories becoming too painful.
“One night, he came home from working an emergency, and he went to bed. I couldn’t get Valentine to quit crying. I tried everything, but she wouldn’t stop. Scott came into the nursery, and I could tell by the way he was looking at her that, if he had the chance, he would hurt her. I laid her back in the crib and told him to stay away from her. When I woke up, I was lying on the floor, and he was sitting on the rocking chair, holding my baby. He said he would kill me if I ever tried to come between he and his daughter, and that was the end of it for me. I wasn’t going to take the chance he would hurt Valentine again.
“When he went to bed, I slipped into the bedroom and stole his cell phone. I called a domestic abuse hotline, and the next day when Scott went to work, two of the most beautiful women in the world showed up at the door. I took Valentine and the clothes on our back and ran.
“They gave us a place to stay where Scott couldn’t find us, clothes, and food. Without their help, I don’t know what I would have done. They helped and counseled me through my divorce, provided me with doctors that could testify to the damage he had done to my body. He had broken my arm, several ribs, my nose had been broken so many times it was deformed, and my left eye drooped.
“I was given a divorce and a restraining order for both me and Valentine. I didn’t even ask for spousal or child support, because I knew it would infuriate him even more, so they helped me find a job and start over.
“For two blissful months, I had a life that I was beginning to enjoy. Scott stayed away. I should have known he wouldn’t let us go. I had even warned my parents through one of the domestic abuse shelters to be careful. I thought Scott would be too afraid of losing the respect of his friends and co-workers to violate the restraining order.
“I went to pick up Valentine from daycare two months after our divorce. When I was buckling her into her car seat in the backseat, he knocked me out and pushed me into the car. I woke up with him driving around the city, ranting at me. I tried everything I could to calm him down, but it didn’t work.
“He pulled off the road and dragged me to the trunk of the car and shoved me in, slamming the lid down before I could escape. I was so proud of myself for buying that piece of junk so I would have my independence and be able to pick up Valentine from daycare. It was so old it didn’t have the emergency release for trunks.” She gave a bitter laugh. “I kept screaming at him to stop and let me out, that he better not hurt Valentine.
“I don’t know how long he drove around, because I was in and out of consciousness. I woke when he stopped the car and threw Valentine at me. I held her as he drove, not having any idea of what he was going to do next. I don’t think he did, either. I was so scared, and all I could do was lay there in the dark, holding Valentine.”
“Jesus.”
“Believe me, I prayed. I prayed for God to help me. I prayed my parents would save us, though I hadn’t talked to them in years. I even prayed that you would rescue me. I know it was unrealistic, but I kept praying someone would save us in time.
“Finally, the car stopped, and everything was quiet. I wanted the trunk to open, but I was afraid at the same time. I was terrified of what he would do to us when it did. I heard the sound of a gunshot, but after that, nothing. I started screaming for help over and over again, pleading for Scott to open the trunk, but he never did.