Page 68 of Dark Secrets

She nodded. “Just the afternoon shift. I’m off around six. I didn’t know you taught self-defense classes.”

He flinched, refusing to meet her gaze when he spoke again. “Reagan teaches them, really. Sometimes she asks me to help out.” He opened his mouth and closed it again. “Well, I should probably get going.”

Delaney didn’t know what to say to stop him when he shoved back from the table and carried his plate to the sink.

“I wasn’t sure if you would want to go out tonight or stay in, but maybe…” He took a deep breath before continuing. “Maybe we could stay in and…talk.”

Delaney’s heart plummeted into her stomach, and she swallowed around the lump in her throat. Talking meant questions. Was she prepared to answer them?

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated. “I’ll see you tonight.”

He retreated to the door, stuffing his feet into his boots and slipping into his jacket, all without glancing in her direction. When the door closed behind him with a gentle click, the silence was deafening.

Appetite vanished, Delaney pushed her plate away and stared at the flowers artfully arranged in a cut glass vase. She would have two choices tonight, lie to his face or tell the truth. She didn’t feel prepared for either one.

* * *

Delaney cruised through her shift on autopilot. It was steady but not slammed, with customers who tipped well and didn’t linger too long. A perfect day in the restaurant industry. She clocked out at six on the dot and climbed the stairs with heavy steps. She’d seen James head up nearly an hour ago, so she knew he was waiting for her.

Sometime around two, she decided to tell him the truth. The whole of it. Every nasty, unflattering, uncomfortable detail of it. Telling him wouldn’t put her in danger; she believed that wholeheartedly. He would never betray her. Oddly enough, it wasn’t the danger she was afraid of—it was his rejection.

All day she played scenarios in her head where she told him the truth, bared her entire soul to him, and he decided he didn’t want her anymore. That she was too much trouble. If that did happen, it was at least something she was prepared for.

The lights were on when she let herself in, but he wasn’t in the kitchen. She hung her jacket on the hook by the door and kicked off her shoes. The apartment was eerily quiet. Maybe he slipped out again and she missed it. Then she heard his feet on the stairs.

Turning slowly, she offered him a half-hearted smile. He looked about as nervous as she felt. But she had to push through this. He deserved to know the truth, and if freedom was something she really wanted, this was as good a place to start as any. She couldn’t be free and have secrets.

“Delaney, I—”

“Wait.” She swallowed, rubbing a hand over her chest to calm her furiously beating heart. “I have something I need to tell you. Can we sit?”

They moved to the couch, and he surprised her by sitting close enough to touch if they wanted. That seemed like a good sign.

“I don’t really know how to say this. I’ve never told anyone this story before. Just…please don’t interrupt me until I’m finished. Okay?”

He nodded, and she took a deep, steadying breath.

“I’m married. Technically. Legally.” She looked down at her bare left hand. “We met when I was in my last year of law school. He came to speak at my university, and I was…smitten. After his lecture, he caught up to me in the hallway and asked if he could take me out to dinner.” Delaney shook her head.

“I immediately said yes. He was older, smarter, widely published, very well known in the criminal litigation field.” James shifted at that, but she pushed through. “He charmed me. Took me out to fancy restaurants and bought me expensive gifts. I guess you’d call it a whirlwind romance. We’d only dated about six months, most of it long distance, when he proposed.”

She shifted to tuck her legs underneath her, scooting back when their knees brushed. “I only had about three months left until graduation when he asked me to marry him, but he insisted I drop out. Said I’d be too busy planning the wedding to study for exams and swore up and down I’d finish school later and take the bar, and we’d be this elite, high-powered couple.”

Her laugh was bitter, and she rubbed at the crease that formed between her brows. “I should have said no, but he made so much damn sense, and every time I even hinted at waiting until after I graduated, he twisted my words and made it sound like I didn’t want to marry him. So I finally agreed and dropped out, and we moved to his family estate in New Orleans.”

Snow began to fall outside, and she fixed her eyes on the swirling ice crystals, gripping her hands in her lap to anchor herself in the present moment. “It only took him three months to hit me the first time.”

James swore under his breath, and she gripped her fingers tighter. “I was chatting with friends about graduation and saying I was bummed I couldn’t even be there to watch them walk, but he didn’t want to go. I promised to watch the live stream and call them later. He was livid and said I was trying to make him look like the bad guy. When I told him he was being ridiculous, he backhanded me across the face.” Delaney rubbed her cheek at the memory.

“He apologized. He always apologized, but he never stopped. He just got better at hitting me where no one could see the bruises. One night, after we’d been married about three years, I laughed at a joke one of the partners at his law firm told at a party. When we got home, he accused me of sleeping with the guy. He almost killed me.”

James reached for her hand and laced their fingers together, but he didn’t speak, and she was grateful for that. She might not be able to get through the rest of it if he did.

“I went to the police after that. I knew he was friends with the superintendent, but I was covered in cuts and bruises. I figured they’d have to take me seriously. Instead they put me in an interrogation room and called him to come pick me up. They never even took my statement. He broke my arm that night and had one of his doctor friends make a house call so he wouldn’t have to take me to the hospital.”

She rubbed at her wrist, which still ached when it rained. “I started figuring out how to get away from him after that. I didn’t trust women’s shelters not to hand me back over to him the way the police did, so I saved up whatever money I could get my hands on and started plotting how to disappear.”

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