Page 55 of Home Changes
“You armed?” Ken asked.
Seth’s mouth twitched. “Rifle in the truck, dog at my side. No one is going to fuck with us.”
“You think he’ll come here?”
“I think if he’s got half a brain, he won’t. But if he’s the kind of man who puts his fists on a woman and still thinks he owns her, then yeah. He might show up again. That’s why Lottie kept hidden and ate out of garbage cans.”
“I’ll have the deputy run some extra passes past the bakery. Night and morning.”
“Keep it subtle. She’s skittish, and if even a fraction of what she’s saying is true, he’s not stupid.” Seth paused. “I have the aunt’s name.” He provided it to Ken.
“You call if anything changes,” Ken said. “See if you can get a description of the truck or this asshole’s name.”
“Will do.”
Seth ended the call and lowered the phone, staring out over the alley and rooftops. The town looked peaceful.
It always did.
He turned back toward the door, already making a mental list of the questions he would ask. He glanced at the window and saw Lottie talking to Allison. He’d let them talk for a couple of minutes before going back in. That young woman had run through hell and landed in Hollister. He wasn’t about to let the devil find her. Speaking of which, he walked down the stairs and around the building. Sure enough, there was a divot in the dirt. He stretched under the boardwalk and pulled the clothes she was using as bedding out of the dirt.
CHAPTER 18
The smell of warm bread and cinnamon still clung to the walls upstairs, even though the ovens downstairs had been off for hours. Outside the apartment window, October had turned crisp and cold.
Allison shut the windows that had been open that afternoon and stirred honey into two mugs of chamomile tea. She carried them to the small table tucked beneath the window. Lottie sat there, knees drawn up, staring out over Main Street like she expected something awful to appear around the corner at any second.
“Here,” Allison said gently, setting the mug in front of her. “Drink. You’ve got to be running on empty.”
Lottie took it with both hands, fingers trembling around the ceramic. She didn’t sip, just held the warmth close like it might keep her together.
“I don’t know why I asked for help,” she murmured.
“Because you weren’t going to make it if you didn’t,” Allison said, sitting across from her. “You needed the strength to survive, and you found it.” Allison watched her carefully. “You want to talk about it?”
Another long pause. Then Lottie nodded. Once. Barely.
“It started so small,” she said. “Little things. He didn’t like my friends. Said they were jealous of what we had. Toxic. That’s what he called them. Told me I didn’t need them.” Her eyes didn’t lift from the mug. “Then he didn’t like my job. Said my boss flirted with me. He asked me if I encouraged my boss. I didn’t, I swear.”
The desperation in her voice almost killed her. Allison blinked. “I believe you.”
Lottie drew a shaky breath. “He made me feel disgusting for going to work so my boss could flirt. He made me stop wearing makeup. If I laughed at anyone else’s jokes, he’d say I was into them or wanted them more than I wanted him.”
Allison’s chest tightened. She didn’t interrupt. Just let the girl speak.
“I quit. He said he’d take care of me. That’s what he always said.I’ll take care of you. And I believed him.” Lottie’s lip trembled. “God help me, I believed him.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Allison said softly.
Lottie shook her head, fast and sharp. “No. That’s the thing. Idid. Everything was my fault. If he was angry, it was because I made him that way. I didn’t mean to do it, but I always did. If he hit something, it was because I provoked him. He would get mad if I flinched, but I couldn’t stop.” Her voice broke. “He hurt me.”
Allison reached across the table and gently covered Lottie’s knee. The girl didn’t pull away.
“The last time,” Lottie whispered, “he knocked me into the kitchen counter so hard I split my eyebrow open. I remember staring at the blood on the tile, wondering if I’d get to clean it before he made me explain it.”
Allison’s gut twisted. The bastard. “He made you explain why you were bleeding?”
“Yeah. I had to explain how I messed up. What I did to make him so mad.”
