Rage pumped through my veins. “I tried to leave once. To go to the police. He found out within the hour. He had them convinced that I was mentally unstable by the end of the day, and he’d found me by the next.”
Jensen gasped. I couldn’t look at her, afraid of what I might see. “I planned more carefully the next time, pretended he had finally broken me, that I was finally this automaton who would obey his every command, never thinking for myself. He believed it.”
I was silent for a minute, trying to slow my rapidly cycling thoughts. Jensen squeezed my hand. “How did you get out?”
A small smile tipped my lips. “An angel in the form of a hairstylist. She helped me escape.” Emotion clogged my throat. “I’ll never be able to repay her for that.”
A tremor rippled through me as I forced myself to look at Jensen. Would she think I was weak? Stupid? Would she pity me? When I met her gaze, I sucked in a breath. Rage burned in her eyes. “I want to kill him.”
Of all the things she might have said, that wasn’t what I had expected. But with my fierce defender, Jensen, I should have. She was always protecting creatures great and small who had less power than others. Look at the field in front of us, full of horses that had nowhere good to go, beings that needed a safe place to call home. She would destroy anyone who tried to harm them, so I shouldn’t have been shocked that she wanted to do the same for me.
And I couldn’t forget that Jensen also knew what it meant to discover that the man you loved was a monster. I squeezed her hand, a small smile curving my mouth. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I’d rather you not be sent to jail for the rest of your life.”
She looked me dead in the eyes. “They’d have to find the body first.”
Laughter bubbled out of me. I couldn’t help it. And it just kept building until tears streamed down my face and my stomach ached. It was the exact release I needed.
Jensen pulled me into a hug as my laughter subsided. “Thank you for telling me. I’m so sorry you had to endure that. You are so fucking strong.”
The tears that leaked out of my eyes were now a different kind—a mixture of gratitude and emotional release. “Thank you.”
We held onto each other, not moving or speaking until Phoenix tried to nuzzle in between us. We both laughed as the mare broke us apart. I pressed my face against the mare’s furry cheek. “Everything’s okay. Promise.” Phee leaned into me.
Jensen studied me as I stroked Phoenix’s face and neck. “Your name isn’t really Tessa, is it?”
I stiffened. I’d told my story, but I couldn’t ever give away my secrets. “No.” Jensen raised her brows at me. “I can’t tell you what it is. It would put you at risk.”
Jensen’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
I let the feel of Phoenix’s coat beneath my fingers soothe my nerves. “My ex is really well connected.” Understatement of the century. “If he thought you were helping me, knew my history, he’d do everything in his power to destroy you.”
Jensen looked skeptical, so I pushed on. “He’s done it before. That hairstylist I told you helped me? Six months after I left, her salon was set on fire with her inside. Thankfully, she escaped with only smoke inhalation, but she could’ve died. All because she helped me.”
Jensen straightened. “You need to go to Walker. Tell him everything. Get a restraining order. You have resources now who will believe you.”
I pushed off the boulder, needing to move. “I can’t.” I swiveled to pin Jensen with a stare. “And you can’t either. Promise me.” Panic raced through me.
Jensen rose, holding out a hand in a placating gesture. “I won’t. I promise. I’d never betray your trust like that.” My heart rate began to slow a bit. “But tell me why not.”
My hands fisted at my sides. “To file a restraining order, you need to report where you live. That meanshewould know where I live. If he knows where to find me, I’m as good as dead.”
18
Liam
My fingers shifted along the neck of the guitar, and my other hand absently strummed. I was caught in that half-conscious state of chasing a melody, a series of notes that had been stuck in my head since I first met Tessa. I couldn’t quite find the exact arrangement, the perfect fit, the music that would put into words the riot of emotions that had taken up residency in my chest.
My ribcage squeezed. I wanted to go to Tessa now. The desire to see her and make sure she was okay was so strong, I’d headed to my car twice in the last two hours. I’d talked myself out of leaving both times, reminding myself of what Jensen had said: give her time to recover from whatever had happened yesterday, then let her know I wasn’t going anywhere.
I focused back on my guitar, fingers flying over the strings. Closer. I was nearing the right combination of chords. So close. My phone buzzed on the porch rail, and I cursed. I should’ve kept the damn thing on silent, but I wanted to have it on just in case Tessa called.
I glanced at the screen and scowled. Definitely not Tessa. I answered with a gruff, “Hello.”
“Liam, it’s Dan. How are you?” The falsely bright voice belonged to an exec at my record label. He was pretty much the last person I wanted to talk to at this moment, but I knew if I ignored the call, my phone would just keep ringing.
I leaned my guitar against the porch railing. “Hey.”
“How are things?” It sounded like an innocuous question, but I knew it was anything but.
