Page 168

At least, he thinks he does.

“The check-in texts turned into constant phone calls. He started coming into work to watch me, and if I spoke to another man or looked at someone in a way he didn’t like, he would punish me for it later.”

Dean’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“He made sex into a weapon,” I continue, my voice growing quieter. “If I didn’t want it, he accused me of cheating. He would sulk, threaten me or make me feel guilty until I gave in, then tell me I clearly didn’t love him because I hadn’t enjoyed it.”

“Fucking hell, Blair,” Dean breathes.

“I know.”

I look toward the ocean, letting the sound of the waves fill the silence before I force myself to continue.

“Eventually, I ended things. I thought he would be angry for a while and then move on.”

“But he didn’t,” Dean says.

I shake my head. “The messages and calls wouldn’t stop, so I blocked his number. Then one night, I came home from work and knew something was wrong before I even turned on the light.”

My throat tightens.

“There was a note underneath my pillow that said, You’ll never get away from me.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Jerry wanted me to go to the police, but I was terrified no one would believe me. Ben was loved by everyone. I thought they would look at him and see the charming guy they knew, then look at me and decide I was lying.”

Tears begin slipping down my cheeks, and I don’t bother wiping them away.

“About a week later, I came home after a late shift and found my apartment destroyed. Everything I owned was broken or torn apart.” My voice cracks. “Ben was sitting in a chair beside the window, waiting for me.”

Dean reaches for my hand. His thumb moves over my skin, and I hold on to that small touch like it’s the only thing keeping me here.

“He came at me the second I tried to leave. He was screaming that I’d ruined his life. He shoved me into the wall hard enough to crack the plaster, and every time I managed to break free, he caught me again.”

I can still feel his fingers digging into my arms.

“At one point, his hand closed around my throat.” The words barely make it past my lips. “I couldn’t breathe. My vision started going dark around the edges, and I genuinely thought he was going to kill me.”

Dean’s hand tightens around mine, but he stays silent.

“His grip shifted, and I managed to kick him hard enough to make him let go. I pushed him over and ran.” I wipe at my face with my free hand. “I didn’t stop until I reached a police station.”

“What happened after that?” Dean asks carefully.

“I finally told them everything. Ben was arrested that night, and months later, he was convicted of felony assault and second-degree strangulation. He was sentenced to five years in prison.”

“Baby.” Dean lifts our joined hands and presses his lips against my knuckles. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“After the trial, people looked at me differently. Some of them acted like I was the one who had done something wrong. I stayed in New York while Ben was in prison, but as his release got closer, the fear became impossible to ignore.”

I take another unsteady breath.

“So, I packed everything I could fit into the Kombi, changed my last name and drove until New York was behind me.”

“Until you found Hartwell,” Dean says.

“Until I found Hartwell,” I repeat.