“I have anxiety…” I pause and study Jax’s face for a reaction, but he motions for me to continue. “I’ve suffered from it forpretty much my whole life, but it’s been under control the last few years. Trent knew about my anxiety issues; he always seemed fine with it. Shortly after we got engaged, he started saying weird things about how I overthink or worry too much. At first, it was just little comments here and there.

“I tried to brush it off. He never said things like that before, but then things started spiraling. He wanted me to check in with him no matter where I went, which was mostly to and from work. Then he started going through my phone and computer like he was paranoid about something. The belittling got worse. Nothing I ever did seemed good enough. I questioned his behavior, but he turned it around on me and said I was the one being paranoid. Then, one day, I couldn’t take it any longer and gave him the ring back.”

“I have a feeling the story doesn’t end there,” Jax says with a tone of anger in his voice.

“Nope, but I wish it did. So, I gave him back the ring and he was devastated, like totally shocked that I would do such a thing. We split up for a few weeks, but then he started coming around again. He was on his best behavior. Things felt like old times, so we got back together. It was good for a few weeks…until it wasn’t again. It was insanity. One minute he would be sending me flowers and saying that I was the love of his life, the next minute he would tell me what I should wear and who I could hang out with. We broke up and got back together three more times before I finally told him to stop contacting me.”

“Did he stop? You know, contacting you?”

“He stopped contacting me directly for a while, but other things started happening.”

Jax leans in closer, his full attention on me.

“Remember when I said the town loved him? Once word spread that we were finally finished, people started turning on me. I would walk into a store and hear people say stuff like ‘Oh,there’s the runaway bride’ or ‘I can’t believe she thought she was too good for someone like Trent.’ I even had a parent request their student be removed from my class because if I couldn’t make good decisions about my future, how could I be trusted with the education of their child.”

Jax turns his head and lets out a sharp breath. “You’re not telling me everything, are you?”

I fidget with the hem of my shirt. Jax moves in closer to me. He gently puts two fingers under my chin and lifts it up so we are back looking at each other eye to eye.

“Hey, look at me,” he says softly. “Tell me what else happened.”

“At first, it was little things that started happening. I chalked it up to stress, my overactive imagination, my anxiety. Trent’s dad is the chief of police and his brother is also a sheriff in town. Sometimes when I was driving, I would notice a police vehicle following me. The windows on their cars are heavily tinted so I could never tell who it was or if it was different people each time.”

“Each time? How many times did it happen? You said you never got a ticket before you came here.”

“I never got pulled over,” I answer. “They never put their lights or sirens on. They would just follow me closely, like trying to mess with me. One time, I was stopped at a light and four of them boxed me in.”

“Shit, Aly! That’s harassment! What did you do?”

“I kept driving until I was out of town boundaries. I didn’t know if they were on duty or not, but I figured if I could get out of their jurisdiction, I would be okay.”

“You did the right thing.”

For some reason, his reassurance soothes me. I give him a weak smile. “Thanks.”

“There’s more, isn’t there?”

“Nothing could ever really be proven, you know? There was this one time I was working late and someone slashed all four of my tires at school.”

“Aren’t schools supposed to have surveillance cameras?”

“They weren’t working that day.”

“Convenient.” Jax jumps up, clearly agitated. He starts pacing the room. “Keep going. I want to know everything.”

“Sometimes, when I was at home or even out in town, I would feel like I was being watched but never saw anyone or anything. Then this one time, Jacob came home for a short visit. He keeps a small apartment back home for when he’s not traveling. We went out to dinner and a movie. He mentioned to me that he felt like we were being watched. It kind of validated what I thought, you know? He told me he didn’t feel comfortable leaving me at home alone, so he slept on the couch that night. Around three in the morning, we heard a crash; someone had thrown a rock through my living room window. There was a note tied to the rock.”

“What did the note say?”

“Slut.”

Jax mutters a curse under his breath.

“What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t go to the police. His familyisthe police. Have you ever been to a small town in the South before? They are part of the Good Ol’ Boys Club. You don’t mess with them. After that, Jacob insisted that I live in his apartment. He wanted to take some time off work so I wouldn’t be alone, but I knew they would just harass him too. It wasn’t his battle to fight.

“I spent the last few months living in Jacob’s bachelor pad instead of my own home that I worked hard for and loved so much. I tried to move back, but I jumped at every noise, every shadow that I thought I saw out of the corner of my eye. I started to feel like I really was losing my mind.”

“So, that’s why you came out here? Because of the harassment?”