Page 49 of Haven Moon

SAMMIE

My mouth lost all moisture and my legs trembled at the sight of my husband. After all these months away I’d almost forgotten what he looked like. Objectively speaking, his strong jawline and full mouth might have made him handsome if not for the look of utter malice coming from his eyes. He’d gained weight on top of his muscular frame since I’d last seen him. I didn’t think it was possible, but he was even more intimidating.

“Well, look what we have here. My wife. Guess what? I’m alive.” His voice sounded rough and hoarse. Given the bags under his bloodshot eyes, I suspected he’d been drinking. Not unexpected. “You must have been so broken up all this time, thinking the father of your child had been killed.”

“How did you find me?” I knew my script without anyone having to tell me. I had to make him feel as if he had the upper hand. As if he’d surprised me.

“That’s not your concern.”

“What do you want?” I asked. The tremble in my voice was real. No acting required.

“It’s time for you and Chloe to come home. This little game of yours is over.”

“What game? You mean the one where I was trying to stay alive? The game where you hit me almost every day of our marriage?”

“I gave you everything. A home. Money. A baby. And yet you betrayed me.” He drew nearer, not touching me but forcing me backward until I ran into the bed. “You left me for dead and ran away. Changed your name. Took my child from me. Still, here I am, not ready to give up on you. Not everyone in my life understands, but I forgive you. Now it’s time to go home.”

“You think I’m going back with you, only to have you beat me to death or shoot me like the night I left? Are you out of your mind?” I knew putting up a fight would infuriate him. I would get him to confess; I could get him to strike me. I’d had enough practice.

The first time he’d hit me, I hadn’t expected it. But I’d never forget the way his face changed, reddened, and contorted, right before he started in on me. He’d split open my lip and given me bruises up and down my arms instead. After he’d passed out, I’d locked myself in the bathroom. The next morning, he’d begged my forgiveness, blamed it on the drink, and swore he’d never do it again. That promise lasted all the way through the rest of our honeymoon. I was pregnant. I’d vowed to make it work. More than anything, I’d wanted my daughter to have both parents, something I hadn’t had.

Isn’t that like all women, though? We want to give our children everything, especially what we didn’t have growing up.

“These fantasies you’ve made up in your head are disturbing,” John said. “Makes me wonder if you’re fit to be a mother, you know what I mean?”

“That’s a good one,” I said. “There’s an unfit parent in this room, and it’s not me.’

“You’ve gotten real sassy since you left. Tell me, did you feel bad at all about killing me?”

I thought about what to say before I said it—I’d go right for the jugular. After all, provoking him was the goal, even if he hurt me in the process. “As a matter of fact, I didn’t. I hated you by then. I was relieved you were dead, and I could finally get away from you. My only worry? That your psycho family would come after me.”

“That’s why you left? You hated me?”

He looked so baffled that it took me aback for a moment.

“How else would I feel about you?” I asked, equally baffled by his reaction. “You nearly killed me more times than I can count. All I wanted was to leave you. The gun going off was an accident, as you well know.”

“I didn’t think you had it in you to fight me like that,” he said. “You broke my heart, leaving me for dead.”

“I broke your heart? That’s a good one. You pulled out your gun, ready to kill me, but I was ready for you that time. It took you by surprise, which gave me a fighting chance. We struggled and the gun went off, and yeah, I thought you were dead. And yes, I ran. Only to find out that it’s true what they say—only the good die young.”

His face turned red, then purple. A vein in the middle of his forehead throbbed. I knew what that meant. He was about to hit me. I’d let him. Take it one more time so I could be free.

He lifted his shirt to show me the scar from the gunshot wound. “Do you see what you did to me? The surgeon said he didn’t think I’d make it. He told my daddy that his son was a goner. Do you know the hell you put him through?”

“If you hadn’t pulled the gun on me, it would never have happened. You know that’s the truth.”

“You don’t remember it right. You came after me with my own gun. I was the victim, not you.”

“You think anyone’s going to believe that a 115-pound woman wrestled a gun from my husband’s hand and shot him in cold blood? Is that what you told your daddy? Your wife overpowered you? I can only imagine how that went over.”

“I didn’t tell him that because it wasn’t true. I had you trapped with a gun to your head.”

Now we were getting somewhere.

“That’s right. You were angry I talked about you to someone else. So angry that you came home ready to kill me. It was only dumb luck that the gun didn’t go off when you were holding it to my temple.”

“Shut your fat face,” he said though his teeth.

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