Page 39 of Come Back for Me
Nate goes first. “Mrs. Walcott, could you please recount what happened two nights ago.”
I intertwine my fingers, close my eyes, and speak. I tell them everything. I go over each word, each threat, every time he gripped my hair and kicked me. How I was pulled up and tossed around as though I were a doll. Tears fall as I keep talking, but I don’t stop, not even when I begin to shake. I just speak. “I thought I was going to die. I thought that was the last time I would ever see my daughter when I told her to run and never come back. The pain was so bad as he hit and kicked me.”
I feel as though I have nothing left in me. I’m drained of all the strength I had reserved, but I eventually force myself to look to Nate. His lips quiver before he controls them and hands me a tissue. “Thank you, Mrs. Walcott.” He then turns to the judge. “Your Honor, based on the testimony here and the evidence I’ve provided, we ask that Mr. Walcott be held without bail as he has made life threatening promises against Mrs. Walcott and their daughter.”
The judge nods. “The defense has its turn, then I’ll render my decision.”
The attorney stands, buttons his suit jacket, and heads toward me. “Mrs. Walcott, you’ve been through quite a trauma.”
“Yes.”
“One that seems to have never happened before, am I right?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s happened before.”
“Really? When?”
I lick my lips, feeling sick to my stomach because I know where this is going. “I never reported it, which is what you’re asking. My husband has hit me on numerous other occasions.”
“Has he? Or is this some elaborate scheme that you’ve concocted with your lover so you could run away together?”
My lips part, and I suck in a breath. “Excuse me?”
“You and Mr. Arrowood are in a relationship are you not?”
“No, we’re not. He moved here recently.”
Connor’s gaze meets mine, and his jaw clenches. This is the crazy talk that Kevin was saying that night.
Kevin’s lawyer nods. “I see, and in that time, suddenly your husband of eight years just...loses it? Never having done something like this before, contrary to your words, Mrs. Walcott, there is no proof of prior incidences. You can see how some may find the timing strange. In the middle of the night, you just happen to be outside and the man who you say your husband accused you of having an affair with is who”—he lifts his fingers and does the air quote sign—“saves you?”
I will not allow this man to take this away from me. I have to stand my ground, not because it’s the truth but because Hadley and I will have to run again if they let him out. We will be gone before Kevin is released from jail and no one will be able to stop me. I don’t care if that means he walks free after it because I will be free from him. I’ll find a way.
So, instead of cowering, which is exactly what they want, I sit a little taller and blow out a deep breath that causes pain to my side.
“My husband has hit me before. He’s punched me, he’s grabbed me, he’s pulled my hair and thrown me to the ground. My husband has controlled me and isolated me from other people. He’s trapped me in every aspect of my life and then threatened to kill our daughter and me. I can’t speak on what he thinks or the excuses he’s made over the years, buteverythingI have said today is true. My neighbor saved my life when our daughter ran to him for help and called 9-1-1. I’m not in any kind of romantic relationship with him. Mr. Arrowood acted as a friend when I was in danger, nothing more.”
“Well, I guess we’ll see about that.” The attorney walks away and sits beside Kevin.
“You may step down, Mrs. Walcott.”
My legs feel like jelly as I make my way back to my seat.
“Does the defense wish to make a statement?” The judge asks.
I sit here, my body trembling and my nerves shot. I was able to get through it, but this is really the worst part. None of us can control anything else. Sheriff Mendoza reenters the courtroom and sits beside me so I’m flanked by two men who are showing their sign of support and protection.
“At this time, we plead the fifth and wish to await the trial.”
The judge doesn’t look surprised, but I am.
Mendoza leans over, his voice a soft whisper. “They know there’s enough evidence to keep the case from being thrown out and it’s best to wait for the trial instead of having to recant anything he says now.”
Right, God forbid he dig himself a hole. The same rights should be afforded the people who witnessed it and me—the victim.
How unfair is this all?
The judge leans forward, his arms resting on the desk in front of him, and he looks to the defense and then to the prosecutor.
