Husband by Choice
“You do or you wouldn’t be here.”
“I don’t want to need you.” She had to be enough of herself, enough of what he’d be expecting, to keep him calm. And she had to focus on the horizon, the waves, the same ocean that had welcomed her and Max and Caleb to her shores every Sunday.
That was her strength. The ocean. Those memories.
Her impetus and motivation for putting her life in the hands of the devil himself.
“Now that, I believe. You don’t want to need me, but you do.” He squeezed her breast, nipped her on the neck and pushed his groin up against her backside.
No way in hell, buddy. She’d die because of him, but she was not going to have sex with him. That was not part of her plan and was never going to be.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Steve said. “I want you all to myself. At least for now.”
Meredith stood with him and when he laced his fingers through hers, she let him lead her up the beach.
She had no idea where he was taking her, but figured it didn’t really matter.
As long as it was private.
* * *
CHANTEL CAME CHARGING in the front door just before noon on Sunday, her expression pinched and about as serious as he’d ever seen her. Including the day Jill was killed.
Moving Caleb from his lap to the couch beside him, he said, “Watch TV, son,” and followed Chantel to the kitchen.
“What?” he asked, standing in front of her barefoot and in sweats. “Has he been arrested? Is it over?”
“Meredith is gone, Max.”
He stared at the woman he’d kissed and then run out on. He hadn’t seen her again until she’d knocked on his door twenty minutes later and told him breakfast was ready.
Her actions indicated that she was willing to respect his privacy. To accept his need to pretend that nothing had happened between them. At least until Steve was caught and Meri was safe.
“She left where she’d been staying this morning. And you might as well know now, she was at a shelter for abused women.”
Oh, God. Okay. Calm. Calm. Calm. “What about the unmarked cars watching the place?”
“They were watching for Steve, for someone trying to break in, not someone leaving. Or she somehow slipped by them. I don’t know. At this point, we believe she was running from Smith all along....”
“Wait, who’s we? And why? And how do you know she’s gone? A shelter, Chantel? And you didn’t tell me? Which shelter? I called the director of The Lighthouse. They hadn’t heard from her.”
“They wouldn’t have told you at that point if they had.”
“Sure they would. We all know each other. I help with the fund-raisers and...”
“And everything changes the second your wife becomes a resident,” she said. She was leaning against the counter, her arms wrapped around her without a hint of softness anywhere.
“So that’s where she’s been all this time? At The Lighthouse?”
“No. She’s been somewhere else. A unique, private place. But where she was doesn’t really matter at this point. She’s gone. She left notes indicating that she wasn’t coming back.”
“Notes?”
“For the director and some of the residents.”
That was so Meri. To care for those around her. And to leave them?
“She’s never run from a shelter before.”