Page 32 of Trapper Road

We have a target.

“You know what? I’m done with letting them get away with this shit. I’m tired of just taking it and not responding.” I take a breath and blow it out. “I think it’s time we go on the offensive.”

He doesn’t argue or try to talk me out of it. “What do you propose?”

“I want to sue,” I tell Sam. “Harassment. Defamation. Anything and everything. I’m tired of being passive. I want to put an end to this.”

There’s a pause as he considers what I’ve said. “You sure?” He’s not saying this because he doesn’t support me; he just wants to make sure we’ve thought through the consequences of taking such a step.

No, but I don’t know what else to do. “Absolutely.”

“This could garner media attention. Put a spotlight on us.”

I snort. What else is new. “We can’t keep running from this. I’m tired of always being on the defensive, always anxiously anticipating their next salvo. I know we can’t stop it all, but we can at least do something.”

“Why don’t I try reaching out to Leonard directly, let him know what we’re planning and giving him the chance to retreat without turning it into a public spectacle.”

“You think he’ll listen?”

“The Leonard I used to know would have. He was a pragmatist. He has to realize that trying to turn all of this into a big national story won’t make him look good and will tarnish the memory of his daughter.”

I used to be more like Sam. I used to believe in people. Look how long I blindly believed in Melvin. But all that came crashing down the day a drunk driver smashed into my garage, revealing the true horrors of humanity to the world.

Once you realize how adept monsters can be at pretending to be real people, it’s hard to ever trust again.

“You have more faith in people than I do.”

“I just know what it’s like to be in his position and to be full of rage and grief and not know what to do with it all.”

His statement is an uncomfortable reminder of our past. Of the years he hated me and stalked me, thinking that destroying me could somehow ease his pain. Thankfully, he learned that I’m not the monster he thought I was, and he realized that there was no magic bullet to avoiding the pain of his sister’s loss.

“Thank you, Sam.”

“You and the kids mean everything to me. Keeping you safe and protected is my number one priority.”

“If only you weren’t so far away. This motel room is feeling awfully lonely.” I let a little bit of a teasing lilt enter my voice. With Sam traveling so much more than in the past, we’ve had to get a little more creative with our sex life. It’s added a new level of intimacy and excitement to our nightly phone calls.

He hums, interested. “Oh really?”

“Go figure the first night we have alone without the kids, and we’re not even in the same state,” I grumble.

“You and I both know I don’t have to be there in person to make things interesting.”

“Oh?” I ask, settling back into the pillows and letting the warmth of his voice fill me. “Tell me more.”

And he does. In elaborate detail.

8

SAM

When I get off the phone with Gwen, I’m too keyed up to sleep. I hate being so far away from her right now with everything that’s been going on. I want to be able to wrap my arms around her and hold her and take the weight of her burdens for a while. She always carries so much responsibility — for her kids, for her ex-husband’s crimes, for her clients. It amazes me every day how strong she is.

But everyone has their breaking point. She’d come pretty damn close to it out in Salah Point earlier this year. That she survived the ordeal physically is a miracle. Emotionally, however, I’m not sure she’s as recovered as she wants everyone to believe.

She still has nightmares. Sometimes I see her staring off into space, rubbing the ache in her hip, and I know she’s lost in the memory of that madman’s slaughterhouse. She knows how to ask for help — she has regular therapy appointments and has taken it slowly when it comes to resuming a full workload.

Still, I worry. There are a lot of circumstances I can’t control. I can’t change who her ex-husband is or the crimes he committed. I can’t stop the flood of rage directed her way from angry zealots online. But I can at least try to put a stop to one of them.

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