Page 101 of Her Dom's Secret Past

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Anabelle

I watched John walk from the room, my head in turmoil. Everything I’d been trying to suppress bombarded my thoughts. I needed John to hold me, to let me cry after the ordeal of re-living it all, but instead I was left with an empty room. Every agonizing detail imprinted in my brain, every movement, every horrid touch, every hellish laugh was playing over and over again. I was beyond crying, beyond grief.

I actually didn’t know how to react as the visual movie in my head continually played. Somehow, I had to make it stop. Somehow, I had to burn the reel that held those terrible scenes, but I didn’t know how. And now the one person I’d been leaning on was taken from me. For the first time since my rescue I was truly alone.

I lay watching the clock over the nurses’ station. It seemed to tick slowly. I figured an hour and half to get into Sydney and the same back. Then the meeting maybe an hour, two at the most. Right, he should be back around seven.

I watched seven come and go and still no John. Becky, Cass, Charlie, and Justin all came, but I didn’t follow their conversations. I was too worried about my John. Finally, the buzzer went for the end of visiting hours and John still hadn’t come back.

I remembered him telling me if he was ever found to have killed someone without permission then he would be sent to jail—what if that was why he wasn’t back?

What if they’d found he’d overstepped the mark and charged him with murder?

I tossed and turned, thinking up all the worst-case scenarios, and still no John. Finally, around one-thirty, I asked the night nurse for something to make me sleep. Twenty minutes later, and I was out like the proverbial light.

When I woke in the morning around six forty-five, there was still no John. That started me crying. I was convinced he was now in some jail, rotting away, never to be released, so it was more than relief when he walked in about nine-thirty with another man.

“John.” I knew I was crying, but I couldn’t help it.

He raced to my side, took me carefully in his arms, kissed me, and then stood.

“This is Peter Hamilton. He’s from the UK and was at my hearing.”

“Hello, Miss Rowley. I’m very sorry for what happened to you.”

I nodded. I got the impression this was John’s old boss and wondered why he was here. Did it mean that John was under arrest or something? I went to ask but Peter spoke instead.

“I know this is unpleasant, but I need to ask you a couple of questions. I’ve listened to your testimony.”

I blushed at that point and squirmed a little. I didn’t want everyone and his dog listening to what had happened.

“You said Riley kept asking where Gordon Jennings was. Did he or Carruthers at any time mention any other name?”

“No. I didn’t know who they were talking about. They kept on about a Gordon Jennings and I kept telling them I didn’t know him.”

“Did you at any time mention John’s name?

“No. They said they’d seen me with him and he was tall and black. I knew then they meant John, but I never mentioned his name at all and neither did they.”

“Very good. You did amazingly well under a very distressing situation. Thank you.”

“How did they know?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why me? Why didn’t they simply grab John?”

“They didn’t know where he lived or his new name.”

“But they knew about me? How?”

It stunned me to see Peter squirm and kind of blush.

“I’m afraid that is my fault. This is not the place to discuss it. John’s told me you’re being released this morning. With your permission, I’ll come to the house later today.”

“O … okay.”

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