Page 5 of State of Mind

Wilder nodded. “Yes. I’m…I think so.”

The officer sighed, then looked down at his tiny notepad that fit into the palm of his hand, and he began to write. “Your…is Wilder Torres?”

“Yes.”

“And…twenty-two…old?”

“Yes.”

The officer tapped his pencil on the pad of paper, then reached behind him and grabbed a chair. “I’d first… to ask if…you… questions?”

Wilder felt a sudden wave of frustration even though he caught the gist. “What happened to Scott?”

He watched the officer’s eyes narrow. “…arrested last night…down the street…”

Wilder held up his hand. “Can you move closer and maybe speak up a bit?”

The officer stared at him for a long moment, then shifted his chair closer and cleared his throat. “Is that better?”

And it was. Wilder let out a small, relieved breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s going on.”

Daniels shook his head. “I understand. Are you able to answer some questions about last night?”

Wilder bit his lip, then nodded. “I don’t remember much.”

“What about events leading up to the attack?” Daniels asked, and Wilder felt another chill of panic race through his limbs.

He forced himself to breathe through it, to dig deep into the long years he had been under Scott’s furious, vicious control. He thought about years’ worth of bruises on his arms, the occasional too tight grip around his throat, the way Scott would look at him like he actually got off when Wilder was hurting.

He knew what it was. He’d been fighting the truth, fighting the reality that he’d gone from one destructive, toxic home to another and still hadn’t run. He felt like a coward, and the reality of it threatened to choke him. He was terrified to admit it to Daniels, because he was going to ask the question Wilder had no answer for.

Why did you stay?

There were a hundred, a thousand reasons, and none of them would make any sense.

Wilder felt something hot on his cheek, and he realized then he was crying. Daniels’ gaze was soft, and he leaned a little closer when he spoke. “I understand this isn’t easy.”

Wilder shook his head. “I just…I feel so…” He sniffed and rolled his eyes away. “I feel so stupid.”

“I don’t like admitting how many times I’ve had this conversation,” Daniels told him. “With men who are made to feel weak and cowardly for admitting that someone has hurt them. But I need you to understand one thing.”

Wilder blinked, giving the man his full attention. “Okay,” he whispered.

Daniels cleared his throat, and though Wilder’s hearing was going in and out, through waves of fog, he heard his tone plain as day. It was honest. And it was safe. “I believe you. Whatever happened, I believe you.”

It was nothing short of a miracle that Wilder’s sudden and intense desire to break down didn’t consume him entirely. He managed a thick swallow and a barely-there whisper of, “Thank you.”

Daniels nodded, not quite smiling, but almost. “Do you think you can talk to me about Scott Spriggs and the relationship you two had?”

And for the first time, Wilder knew he could.

CHAPTER 3

Wilder held his wrist with his free hand to keep the dropper from trembling as he slowly added the banana essence to the mixer. It was a delicate thing, a make-or-break moment where he’d either have something delicious, or he’d have to throw another batch of wasted ingredients into the bin and start over. His overhead prepared for waste, but over the last few years, Wilder had grown into an unforgiving perfectionist, especially with his bakes.

Most days, standing in the too-warm kitchen of his Savannah bakery, people like Scott Spriggs and his mother were nothing more than a distant memory. At best, a fading ghost—the impression of toxic energy left behind from a life he had abandoned.

The moment Officer Daniels had left his hospital room and he was transferred into inpatient recovery, he made a decision about his life. Enough was enough. He’d lived under the heel of too many angry boots, and there was no need for it. Not anymore. Refusing to deal with the trauma his mother had caused had led him straight into Scott’s arms, and he wasn’t going to make that mistake twice.

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