Page 35 of Whispers on the Water

Staring at me, he looks like he has more to say, but as quick as it came, the expression turns into a smile. “Not a party animal, eh?”

Taking the hint to shift the conversation, I shrug. “Until, Tilly, yeah. She has a way of forcing me out of my shell.”

He scooches closer. “And me? What am I, chopped liver?”

I shove him back, but my grin remains. “Yes.”

That’s exactly what he wanted to hear and he pounces on me, tickling my sides. I erupt into giggles, slapping at his hands. “Stop it, I’m hungry!” I tease but he just continues to squeeze my sides with his dexterous fingers while laughing with me. I collapse back on the couch, kicking at him but he straddles my legs and digs in even more. Tears have sprung into my eyes, my giggles changing into chortles. “Greg!” I laugh out.

It hits me in an instant without any warning. I’m pinned down, unable to get away. His weight on me suddenly feels suffocating and my breathing stops altogether. The room fades away to white and I hear a scream in my head. Not my voice, but Penny’s. The scream that changed everything for me. Everything that happened that night. It’s all rushing back and I’m unable to stop it. Frozen. Terrified.

“Sam!” Greg’s voice burns through my haze and his face comes into focus.

He’s off my lap, his cheeks pale. I sit up, still not sure what happened. “Sammy, can you talk to me?” His hand reaches out, prying something off my neck. It takes a second for me to realize its my own hands, covering where Kevin had choked me. With a gentle touch, his fingers poke at my neck as he looks at his watch. He’s checking my pulse.

“I’m…sorry,” I manage to say but my voice is hoarse as if the choking had actually happened.

“Can you take a deep breath for me, babe?” I nod and inhale shakily.

“Again,” he demands, his eyes not leaving his watch. This time, it’s smoother as he inhales and exhales with me.

Seemingly satisfied that I’m not going to die on him, he lets go and sighs. “Sammy, I’m so sorry,” he says, his voice tight.

I’m shaking my head. “No, its fine. Just need to eat,” I try to joke, but my voice falls flat.

He looks at me, his expression turning serious. “Can you tell me what happened with your ex?” His hands envelop mine. “Please, Sam. I need to know.”

The weight in my chest grows, but I can’t bring myself to share the details. I’ve never even talked about it with Tilly, who I trust with almost everything. “I…can’t, Greg,” I manage, pulling my hand back gently. The trip down nightmare lane is one I’ve always taken alone. No one can know what happened. No one.

Greg wraps an arm around me, trying to offer comfort. “Whatever it is, I’m not gonna be scared away. Talk to me... Trust me, Sam.”

He lifts my chin gently, forcing me to meet his gaze. There’s such sincerity in his eyes, a kind of understanding I’ve longed for. And my defenses, the heavy wall I’ve built around myself since that night, crumble. I close my eyes, ready to let it out.

“He... Kevin, came home drunk one night while I was already in bed,” I start, my voice shaky. This is the first time I’m recounting the story in full detail, and it feels like opening a floodgate. Every scream, the smell of gunfire, the blood, it’s all at the forefront of my mind.

“He wanted sex, but I said no, knowing how…” I swallow down the discomfort, trying to at least not think of how awful Kevin could get in bed. “It wasn’t… enjoyable with him drunk. He started to wave his pistol around, not pointing it directly at me, but making sure I knew it was there.”

Greg’s silence is complete, his breath seemingly held in anticipation. I open my eyes, needing to know what he’s thinking by even the smallest expression on his face. It’s urging me to go on. “He hit me with it, nearly knocking me out, then insulted me, threatened to sleep with my friends to prove he was desirable.”

Taking a deep breath, I try to steady myself, but my entire body trembles. The next bout of explanation rushes out. “The gun fell, and then his hands were around my throat.” The urge to grip onto my neck is strong, but Greg doesn’t release my hands. “I didn’t want to shoot him; I just wanted him to stop.”

Greg’s nodding along, his breathing shallow. “But I called Penny, and she... helped.” The way Penny had stepped in without hesitation cemented our bond in a way nothing else could. “She never asked any questions. It was like she knew it was bound to happen. I fled Monterey with her passport and never looked back.”

“Oh Sam.” Greg’s response is so understanding and simple that more tears fall down my cheeks.

“I’ve been in Costa Rica ever since. I saw a few news reports and knew going back would mean arrest.” I cover my face with my hands, and my silent crying turns into sobs. Greg’s hand rubs my back gently. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but after vomiting out the memories of the worst day of my life, I feel the crushing weight of the confession leave me. Greg might try to turn me in, but I don’t think so. For some ridiculous reason, I trust this man more than anyone else in the world. And that freeing feeling in my body makes me breath easier. Finally, someone knows, Greg knows, and one way or another, I can’t take it back.

Chapter twenty-three

Greg

Icontinue to rub her back, feeling a bit lost on how else to comfort her. She’s just bared her soul to me, confessing what the law might see as murder. But in my heart, it doesn’t sit right to label it that way. Reflecting on my years as an officer before joining the FBI, I recognize the signs all too well. Domestic violence isn’t a stranger to any cop, and the patterns are eerily familiar. First with the insults, then a half harmless shove. It always turns into a hit, then escalates to something far worse. If he was brandishing a weapon to intimidate her, it was only a matter of time before he used it. Maybe it would have taken an hour, maybe a few years, but it always ends the same way.

A thought strikes me suddenly. We could fight this. I could take her back home, get a lawyer, and clear her name. She wouldn’t have to hide anymore and could see her family without fear.

“Sam…” I begin, but she tenses up at my tone.

She starts to rise, tears still marking her cheeks, reaching for her purse. Instinctively, I’m on my feet, wanting to stop her. “Wait! Just let me talk.”

---