Page 9 of Stay Away from Him

Except…

Except sometimes there’s a cruelty in Thomas’s kindness. A deep meanness in how nice he is all the time.

This doesn’t make sense, I know. But bear with me.

Thomas is perfect. So perfect. Everyone says so.He’s,like, the perfect man—you’re so lucky to have him.Lucky—because he’s got it all together, while I’m a mess. Everyone knows it. I know it. And he knows it.

Not only does he know it, he uses it against me. I swear he does. He loves to be the good one, the together one, the perfect one. The one who makes the meals and brings the girls to school. The one who’s great at his job, who makes all the money. The one who contributes. The good doctor, good husband, good father. And I swear, he never loves it more—never loves being perfect more—than when I’m a fuckup.

***

But also—there was one time when I’m pretty sure he actually wanted to kill me. When the thought wasn’t just figurative, wasn’t remotely an exaggeration.

His voice hissing in the quiet dark of the hotel room. The girls next door, a thin wall separating us, cowering in the dark of the night, wondering what was going to happen next.

“It was just an accident,” he seethed at me, his voice a quiet roar, just barely held at bay. “An accident. That’s all.”

I blinked, unable to meet his furious gaze. Tears coming hot at the corners of my eyes.

“There’s something wrong with you,” he said. “You’re not right. You’re crazy.”

In that moment, I truly did believe he was capable of ending my life. That the next person to have an accident would be me.

I’ve tried not to think about it. Tried my best to forget. But it’s colored every interaction we’ve had since—the day my husband really did want to hurt me.

Maybe it’s not such an irrational thought, now that Ithink about it.

My husband wants to kill me.

Chapter 3

You idiot.

That was Melissa’s first thought when Lawrence told her that Thomas Danver, the man she had been flirting with all night, possibly murdered his wife.

Nice work, Melissa. You sure know how to pick ’em.

Her cheeks flamed, and she wanted to sink into the floorboards, let them swallow her whole. Until she realized that she really shouldn’t have been beating herself up about this. That she wasn’t the only one to blame here.

“Wait a second,” she said, shooting a glare at Lawrence. “Are you telling me you invited anaccused murdererto a dinner party at your house? And that you just sat by and waggled your eyebrows at me while I spent all night basically throwing myself at him?” Her anger gained momentum as she thought about everything that had happened that night, without Lawrence or anyone else saying so much as a word of warning. Sitting next to Thomas at the end of the table, brushing elbows, letting him pour his honeyed words into her ear. Then being alone downstairs with him, letting him meet—

Oh God. Bradley. Herson. The poor kid had only just escaped the orbit of his emotionally abusive dad. Now she’d introduced himto a literal murderer. She’d brought a killer into Bradley’sbedroom, let him see her boy in his race car bed frame.

“Lawrence,” she said, struggling to speak through the sudden panicked nausea that rose to the back of her throat, “he metBradley. Myson, Lawrence. Tell me you didn’t let a murderer come into the same building as my son. He’s all I’ve got left.”

Lawrence grabbed her by the forearm, and she shot him the hardest, sharpest glare she could muster. But he held fast to her and didn’t flinch away from her angry gaze.

“Honey, calm down. You know I’d never do that to you, right?”

Melissa pulled away, and Lawrence loosened his grip enough to let her break free. “I don’t know. Ithoughtso.”

“Melissa,” Lawrence said. “I’m hurt. When you came to me and told me you had to get out of that marriage, I told you that you could stay here as long as you want. I told you this would be a safe place for you and Bradley, to heal and figure out what comes next. And I meant that. Okay?”

“So how do you explain this?”

“Thomas was onlyaccusedof killing Rose,” Lawrence said. “He didn’t do it.”

Melissa bit back a bitter laugh. “Oh, what a comfort. Why didn’t you tell me earlier? He didn’t do it. Perfect. All is forgiven.”

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