Page 104 of Love and Memories

Anna lifted her chin. “I’m sorry you find my faith embarrassing, but it’s the most important thing in my life. I won’t give it up.”

Catherine’s mouth hung open for a moment before she steeled her features. Her eyes narrowed, shooting invisible barbs at her daughter. “You can’t be serious. What about your family? Your fiancé? Your job? How can you degrade us that way?”

“It’s not degrading. In fact, it’s the best way to honor you. If I put the Lord first, everything else will fall into place,” Anna said.

Catherine stood, looming over the table toward Anna, and spat a curse at her daughter.

The words struck Bella with the force of an angry gale. She’d heard them before. Those exact words, directed at her.

Gunner. The image in her mind was as clear as day. New, yet old in a way she couldn’t explain.

Bella saw his face, stretched with hatred as he drew back his fist. She jerked as the blow hurdled toward her once more.

Gasping, Bella stood from her seat. “Excuse me.” The words were little more than a whisper as she fled the room and found the guest bath. Closing the door and locking it behind her, she rested her back against the door and shut her eyes.

There he was again, materializing before her, reaching out from her memories. The pain in her face was new and fresh, twisting her stomach into a hot knot.

Her throat burned through screams as he grabbed her wrists, pinning her down. The quick pain on the back of her head as it connected with the floor.

Each breath came hotter and quicker as the past took hold of her. She kicked as he beat her into submission, stripping her of her clothes and…

Bella covered her mouth as a wave of nausea jerked her insides. He’d raped her. The pain and anger was alive again, the suffering that turned to submission as he took her and abused her body and mind.

Her back slid down the door until she crumpled to the floor. It all made sense now. Gunner no longer had any reason to keep her alive. His angry words echoed in her mind. Promises to kill her, violently and without restraint.

Her shoulders hunched inward as she wrapped her arms around the baby inside her. The innocence born of pure evil.

No. Her daughter had no blame in this. Her baby was her reason to remain strong.

Resting her shaking hand on the floor, the cold shot up her arm, jolting her back to the past.

Her swollen face staring back at her from the mirror in the small bathroom. The sting of each tear that slid down her bloodyface. The kindling in her chest as she held in the scream that wanted to rip out of her.

Her other palm touched the floor, triggering another flashback. Tending to her own wounds in the bathroom, she’d made a choice. Enough was enough. She could choose to fight for herself or let him win by default. Either way, she was in danger, and the threat would haunt her until her dying day.

Gripping the lid to the toilet tank, she’d positioned the cold porcelain in her shaking hands. It was heavy just as she’d hoped. She swung it from one side to the other like a batter at the plate. The movement was slow, so she’d have to sneak up on him.

Had she done it? Had she really done it as she remembered?

Yes. The impact of the heavy object as it connected with Gunner’s head. The vibrations up her arm that wracked her entire frame. The way his body had crumpled to the floor.

The nausea was back, and she sucked in quick breaths to ward it off. She lifted her hands from the floor and studied her palms. They were clean, but the vision of them covered in blood flashed in her mind.

That was how she’d escaped. That was why she’d made it as far as she had.

She’d killed him and ran for her life.

39

TRAVIS

Travis signed over the patient to the nurse at the hospital with a knot in his stomach the size of a boulder.

“Thanks,” the male nurse said solemnly as he took the tablet from Travis. The man couldn’t even meet his eyes. How could anyone carry on a decent conversation after what they’d witnessed?

His partner, Matt, walked around the corner in the gray hallway just as Travis stepped out of the triage room. The older man wore the same defeated expression as he had since they entered the hospital.

There wasn’t anything glamorous about their job. They met people at their worst, and sometimes, they never even got to introduce themselves.

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