Page 30 of Feel Me

“I think you’re wrong.” Reason tells me to shut my mouth and move on—to end this conversation and not go there again. Except I can’t. Melissa, with her killer body, sexy smile, and keen intelligence makes it hard to stop. “And I think you know it, too.”

Her chest rises and falls with purpose, mimicking mine as I fight to stay in place. Ten feet. That’s all that separates us. “I don’t think we should,” she says.

I open my mouth to say more and keep her with me. But then she throws open the door and walks out, shutting it tight behind her.

CHAPTER 8

Melissa

“I don’t want to see him,” Jennifer says to me. “I can’t do this.”

I’m an advocate for victim services, but as a director, my caseload is limited due to the severity of the cases I cover and my other obligations to the state. Jennifer’s case isn’t one I’m handling.Brendais her advocate. But as much as Brenda means well, she’s new, and Jennifer has completely overwhelmed her.

I’m trying to remain calm, but with the murmuring echoing from all sides and the loud voices spilling from the courtrooms, I’ll admit, I’m overwhelmed. I motion Jennifer to the opposite side of the foyer, allowing the deputies escorting a row of shackled prisoners a wide berth to pass. Unfortunately, these men in their condition are the last thing Jennifer needs to see now.

“You can’t make me do this,” Jennifer whimpers, glancing back at them. “You can’t make me do that tohim.”

I hold out my hands, keeping my voice soft. “No one is making you do anything. But your testimony can make a difference between Darren serving several years or just a few months.”

“But I love him,” she insists. “I don’t want to see him suffer. Did you see those men?”

“This isn’t about them,” I say, trying to keep her focused. “It’s about Darren and how he hurt you.”

“But I love him,” she insists, her voice cracking.

This is the hardest part of doing what I do. Some people are so broken they can’t be reasoned with. Jennifer, like many women in her situation, is scared to death of her abuser. He’s fractured her jaw, landed her in ICU, and placed her in debt she will never recover from. But she “loves” him. Or so she believes.

She doesn’t know what real love is. Having been abused all her life, her brain has conditioned her to think those you most love should also hurt you. Kindness and compassion are elements completely foreign to her. Which is why she’s in the situation she’s in.

If it weren’t for a police officer who witnessed the assault and pulled Darren off Jennifer, she wouldn’t even be here. She didn’t press charges, the police officer did. But he can only account for this one incident, and Jennifer is refusing to step up for the rest.

“Do you think Darren loves you?” I ask her carefully.

Her lips press tight. “Of course he does. He says it all the time.”

No. He says itafterhe beats you so you’ll stay. I don’t tell her this, obviously. It’s the last thing any victim needs to hear. Instead I put the blame back on Darren where it belongs. “If he truly cares about you, then why does he hurt you?”

Brenda stiffens beside me. She shies away from asking the tough questions. But the way Jennifer is reacting, this is no time to be shy.

“He gets upset. His job is really hard,” she says quickly, stumbling over her words. Something shifts in her expression as her gaze sweeps over me, turning her from a cowering little mouse to vicious hell cat. “But I suppose you don’t know anything about real work,” she snaps. “You walk in here with your expensive clothes and your pretty hair. I bet you’ve never known a day of manual labor in your life. Have you, princess?”

In the span of a few seconds I went from someone who could possibly help her to her worst enemy for questioning Darren’s devotion and challenging their so-called love. It’s no surprise she’s turned against me, it’s happened to me before.

I ignore her remarks and stay calm. Nice or not, she’s been hurt and needs my help. “Do you want to feel safe?”

She tightens her jaw.

“Jennifer,” I say. “Do you want to feel safe?”

“What do you think?” she fires back, her voice stabbing at the air like a blade.

“If you want to feel safe, the man who hurt you needs to be placed somewhere where he can’t reach you.”

“No,” she snaps. “He needs to be with me. He doesn’t belong anywhere else. I need him. Do you understand what I’m saying? We need each other.”

“You need kindness and patience, and to feel safe in your own home,” I say, doing my best to help her understand. “Help us give you that opportunity.”

Although I keep my hands loose at my sides, I’m prepared to block her strikes if they come. Someone as fragile and angry as Jennifer is unpredictable. She’ll either completely break down or lash out. I can’t presume to be safe simply because she’s a victim herself.

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