Soul Deep : A Malsum Pass Novel, page 5
Janet leaned back in her chair and pinned him with a look. “When we interviewed Duncan’s ex-wife, something she said bothered me.” Pulling up another window on the screen, Janet pointed to the notes for the recent interview with the ex-wife and tapped the relevant area with a fingertip. “See here? She said that she had been at a support group meeting earlier that evening and then she had gone home and gone to bed.”
Minimizing the screen, Janet pointed out the interview with Chad Emery’s widow. “That reminded me of Mrs. Emery’s interview. She also claimed to have been at a support meeting the night her estranged husband was killed and then dumped in the creek.”
Rick straightened up, his back cracking loudly in protest of the bent position. “Coincidence?”
“You know I don’t believe in that.”
Janet pointed her finger at the screen again, “And look here, while Duncan and Emery are lightyears apart in the income and social strata, they both have multiple domestic disturbances in their records. Duncan’s ex had a restraining order against him, and Emery’s neighbors had called the cops on him several times – the officer responding even noted that he suspected spousal abuse though the wife wasn’t talking. Not to mention the deaths both happened on a Thursday night, almost exactly a month apart, and both women gave the same doctor’s name to verify their presence at the therapy: Doctor Danielle Hillary.”
“So… what? These women are getting their payback and using this Doctor to vouch for them?”
Janet pursed her lips and lifted a shoulder in a small shrug. “Maybe.” Leaning back in her chair, Janet’s eyes met his, her eyes so intense they seemed to bore straight through his skull. “Or someone in that group is enacting some vigilante justice. Either way, it looks like I’ll be attending the next meeting.”
Lily watched the sunset from her high perch in a tree. Sprawled out on the solid strength of a thick branch she thought about staying in this form forever. Hunt, eat, sleep, and repeat for the rest of her days. Life would be so much simpler. Perhaps she would even eventually forget what it was like to be in skin; letting her higher brain functions devolve into pure animal instinct. Wouldn’t it be nice to forget?
What had started out as such a wonderful discovery – that kiss! For the first time ever, she’d actually experienced arousal with another person instead of just the fantasies in her own head. But the moment had collapsed under the sheer weight of her memories as images from her past had bombarded her relentlessly, renewing the pain and humiliation that she would have thought dulled by the passage of time.
God, to think how eager her younger self had been, how excited to be chosen as mate to Hank Kramer. As the pride leader’s son, he had been the most sought after male in the Everglades pride. Handsome, strong, smart, charming, and with a smile that had made her weak in the knees, Lily had actually considered herself lucky – beyond lucky – to have caught the attention of such a male.
She remembered waiting for him in bed after their mating ceremony. She had been so incredibly excited to find out what sex would be like, to experience it with a male like him… She had been so sure it would be perfection – exactly like it was described in her favorite romance novels. The reality was absolutely nothing like she had pictured. Hank had been drunk when he’d joined her in bed and had almost immediately passed out from his overindulgence. Foolishly, Lily, in her disappointment, had chosen to wake him with kisses, caresses, and encouraging words. She’d gotten her wish only in that he did in fact wake. From there, he’d rolled on top of her, pushed her knees roughly apart, and without even a kiss, had thrust inside of her unprepared body. Reacting to the painful intrusion, she had pushed against him and attempted to close her knees. With a sound of disgust, he’d shoved her knees wide once more and then held her down as he thrust, grunting and sweating on top of her until he finally found his release and once again passed out. Lily had silently cried the whole time.
As if that hadn’t been bad enough, the next day, sore and disillusioned, her cheeks had burned with humiliation as he had laughingly paraded her in front of his buddies, crowing about how hot she had been for him, a wildcat in bed panting for his cock, if his nose hadn’t told him different, he would have sworn she was in heat…
And mated life only went downhill from there. Lily had been blamed for every little thing, compared to other females and found wanting, constantly watched, if not by him then by one of his cronies, publicly belittled, and made to feel like she was walking on eggshells in her own home. And since he was the future pride leader, no one would help her, no one would intercede on her behalf. She had been trapped – death, seemed to be her only way out – and since she was far from suicidal, preferably his death.
For years, she had dreamed of killing that male. She had imagined his death by her hand at least a hundred times, but when the death blow had been dealt, it had been her sweet, gentle, baby sister, Daisy who had wielded the weapon, bashing Hank Kramer over the head with a frying pan as Lily lay helpless on the floor, her vision dimming by degrees as her mate had attempted to choke her to death.
Relief had been her first emotion once vital oxygen had returned to her system, closely followed by fear. This death had been no accident, could never be passed off as an accident, and both she and Daisy would be executed for the murder according to the archaic laws that still ruled the pride. They had but one option: to run north where the feline populations were near non-existent. Better to risk possible death by a pack of wolves than certain death surrounded by those who were supposed to be family.
What amazed Lily the most, was once they’d discovered the safety afforded by the pack in their new home, and things had settled down to a normal routine, the resentment started to steadily creep into her brain. She loved her sister, more than anything in this world, but Lily couldn’t seem to stop the thought that she should have been the one to kill the bastard. She was the one he hurt, she was the one who had endured for so long, and her right to vengeance had been snatched from her. And the thought persisted even now: Maybe if she had been the one to kill him, she would have had the closure she had needed to put this behind her and heal. Maybe if she had been the one to end her torment, she wouldn’t have tossed Christian off of her as she did earlier. Maybe they would have spent the day making love, rolling around in the grass, under the sunshine, with him showing her the true joy of sex instead of the pain and humiliation. And didn’t that just make her feel like a piece of shit… Way to pass the buck for her own damage.
Pushing her belly up off of the branch, Lily stretched and easily jumped down to the ground. If she truly wished to heal then what she needed to do was attend the next support meeting and use it for its intended purpose. With a renewed sense of hope, she trotted toward her cabin.
The scent of food had Lily lifting her head to sniff the air. There, in front of her cabin door, was one of the white take-out bags from the diner with something written in black marker on the front. Taking a quick scan of the area to ensure she was alone, Lily approached slowly. The scent of tonight’s special, salmon, wild rice, and steamed vegetables made her stomach growl with hunger and a nudge with her nose assured her that the meal was still warm, but the words written on the bag had her heart leaping with anticipation:
You need to keep your strength up for our rematch – C
That bear… but this time, the thought was laced with a new found fondness. Carefully gripping the bag with her teeth, Lily trotted into the cabin and shifted back to skin. Rereading the words, a grin spread across her face, feeling so much lighter knowing she had something to look forward to. Yes, next Thursday she would go back to her support group and use it for the therapeutic qualities intended; she’d listen, she’d participate and maybe even tell her story. It was high time she took responsibility for her own mental health, put Hank Kramer in the ground where he belonged, and allowed Lillian Oremun to finally live.
Chapter Nine
The following Thursday, Lily knew something was up as soon as she walked through the basement doors of the old church. A loud buzz of conversation floated around the space like static while most of the women seemed to have clustered around one individual – Jordan? Lily couldn’t quite remember her name, but the woman was crying, arms wrapped around her body as she rocked back and forth in her chair.
Through the noise, Lily began to pick up a few words here and there – none of them warm and fuzzy. Words like murdered, beaten to death, the body, police, and drug related… And then belligerently from the dark haired woman who had approached Lily the previous week, Ally? Amber? Lily still wasn’t sure, “Serves the bastard right if you ask me.”
You didn’t have to be an expert at puzzles to put these particular pieces together. Jordan’s ex-husband had been murdered and the news had every member of the group speculating as they offered their support.
“Okay, okay, let’s all settle down now.” Doctor Hillary’s voice penetrated the buzz in an attempt to bring the meeting to order, that ever friendly smile firmly affixed on her face. “Jordan, would you like to share your feelings tonight in light of the recent events?”
Every eye turned to the grieving widow as Jordan sniffed loudly and ran the back of her hand across her nose before she shook her head adamantly.
Doctor Hillary nodded in understanding and turned her attention to the remainder of the group who were taking their seats. “Very well, would anyone else like to share tonight?”
One of the women tentatively raised her hand, and Lily settled deeper into the uncomfortable metal chair, ready to embrace the healing when the hairs at the back of her neck began to prickle. Turning her head slightly, Lily spotted an unfamiliar woman hovering in the doorway. She was African-American, probably in her mid-forties with close-cropped black hair, her body built tough with strong shoulders and military straight posture, her dark eyes keen as she scanned the room. New members weren’t uncommon and that look of suspicion, well, that was also far too commonplace among these women with a shared history. Without further thought, Lily returned her attention to the speaker and the emotion choked words that were coming out of her mouth.
“If another man even looked at me, he would become so jealous – accuse me of doing something to attract attention. It got so bad, that I wouldn’t even leave the house.”
Lily nodded absently. She understood all too well what the other woman was saying, as well as the prison that jealousy built. Closing her eyes, the memory of how she got her scars came flooding in like a tsunami.
Daisy had wanted to buy a new dress for the summer solstice celebration and Lily had agreed to take her to the mall. With the new dress purchased, they were on their way out when a group of boys had begun to flirt with Daisy, and her sister had never looked as happy as when they had been lavishing her with such praise. Lily couldn’t help but indulge Daisy a few more minutes, though she knew it would bring a heap of trouble down on her own head.
Hank always had eyes on her whenever she left the house. All Lily could hope for was that whoever was spying on her today wouldn’t exaggerate when they reported back to her mate. Nervously, she had run through exactly what she would say when she arrived home, even willing to prepare his favorite meal to soften his temper.
Lily hadn’t even gotten fully through the door before the blow took her to her knees; hadn’t even had a chance to raise an arm to ward off the strike. Hank had slapped her with claws extended. As she remained on hands and knees, it took every ounce of will to keep conscious through the pain, her face feeling like it was engulfed in flames, her stomach rolling with nausea.
“You dare to disrespect me?” Hank had shouted, “Acting the whore in a public place and thinking you could, what? Just walk in here and I’d never be the wiser?”
Lily couldn’t lift her head to even look at Hank but she could see his feet pacing in and out of her blurred vision before he let out a scoffing sound. “Clean that mess up.”
That mess was her blood, dripping off her chin and pooling on the tile before her. He’d actually drawn blood, and this was no tiny scratch. It felt like he’d ripped half her face off. Swallowing the bile that had risen into her throat, Lily pushed herself up on trembling legs with a gasp, and somehow managed to stumble back out the door, not caring that Hank was yelling at her retreating back.
Lily couldn’t remember walking to her parents’ house, but she somehow managed to find her way to their front door. Her mother had taken one look at Lily’s face and had dragged her inside, into the bathroom, and pushed her down onto the closed lid of the toilet where she had begun to clean and stitch the wounds. The entire time her mother had made little tsking sounds as she had shaken her head. “You never did have much instinct for self-preservation.” A long sigh. “I really wish you would stop forcing your mate to discipline you so harshly.”
Lily couldn’t say a word. She was in pain, in shock, and she didn’t know what she had expected from her parents, but this – this wasn’t it. She had a vague notion of Daisy crying outside the bathroom, apologizing, attempting to shoulder the blame, and then her father barking at Daisy to go to her room before her mother snapped the lid closed on the first aid kit and straightened with another sigh. “I’ll have your father call Hank to come get you.”
Of course they would. They wouldn’t take the chance that she might not return home of her own accord and risk being punished by the pride leader for helping a female escape her mate. It didn’t matter that Lily was their daughter, as soon as she had been mated, she had become Hank Kramer’s property in the eyes of the pride.
When Hank arrived, he had his father with him. The elder Kramer had tipped her chin up to inspect the damage and had clicked his tongue. “You should be careful, my boy, not to mark her up to the point where you’ll need to put a bag over her head in order to fuck her.”
Hank shrugged, “I can always just take her from behind.”
The males, including Lily’s own father, had laughed like it was the greatest joke they’d ever heard, while Lily’s mother had just stood aside with her head lowered and her hands clasped tight before her, like the good, obedient mate she was.
Lily was summarily returned home where Hank had collapsed into his recliner with a content smile on his face, picked up the remote control to the TV, and as he scrolled through the channels had said, “My dinner’s late. You best get on that. And you still need to clean up that mess.”
The past melted away as Lily realized that the room around her had gone quiet. Perfect silence with one exception: a low growl that was rumbling from Lily’s own throat. Everyone was staring at her with different degrees of shock. Even the new-comer, who had at some point taken a seat, was watching her, those dark eyes trained on Lily like a hawk.
Lily closed her eyes in dread for a moment and then cleared her throat. Lamely she raised a hand and patted her neck. “Sorry, frog in my throat.” A sorry excuse, indeed, and Lily wanted to shudder at her own stupidity. Luckily, Doctor Hillary managed to break the awkward moment, “Would you care to share tonight, Lily?”
While she had come here with every intention of doing just that, Lily shook her head. She couldn’t trust her own vocal cords right now. Tucking her lips between her teeth, she ducked her head and stared at her hands, feeling Doctor Hillary’s gaze on her for several hard beats of her heart. Lily could just picture that patient smile of understanding, but then, to Lily’s undying appreciation, the good doctor moved on.
Lily nearly overturned her chair in her eagerness to reach the door once the meeting was over. She was mortified that she’d actually growled in front of all of these humans, and so desperate to escape before someone approached her that she punched through the doors a bit harder than necessary, sending it crashing forward into the outer wall with a wince-worthy bang. She was finally able to take a deep breath once she spotted her little beater in the parking lot and had to resist the urge to sprint those last few yards.
Once in the vehicle, she immediately started the engine and threw the car in reverse. As she was backing out, she spotted the new woman in her rearview mirror, standing just outside the doors of the church, her eyes trained on Lily’s car, her lips pursed with consideration. Probably wondering if I’m a dangerous lunatic, Lily thought darkly. And who could blame the woman? Lily was dangerous and tonight, she may as well have stood up and shown off her claws for all the discretion she’d shown. Stupid. So stupid. With a disgusted sigh, Lily trained her eyes on the road ahead of her.
Chapter Ten
Detective Janet Sanford walked back to the meeting room with a shake of her head and a sigh of disappointment. She’d been hoping to have a word with the scarred blonde. The growl that the woman had emitted earlier had definitely tripped Janet’s radar and upped the woman to the top of her suspects list. At least she had been able to get the plate number off the vehicle before the woman disappeared – so, bright side.
Not that she was ruling anyone else out. There were plenty of others tonight who had gotten Janet’s senses tingling. The black and purple haired Goth type with the leather jacket who currently had an arm thrown around the shoulders of one of the other women, was radiating enough hostility to heat a city block. While others in the room were showing various degrees of anger, fear, and twitchy nervousness. Not that Janet could blame them. After listening to some of the stories that were shared tonight, Janet was feeling on edge herself; could even begin to see how someone who came week after week, hearing story after story, may decide to take matters into their own hands. Janet would be the first to admit that the justice system, in matters of spousal abuse, was flawed. Not that that gave them the right to go above it, but when a restraining order was the best these women could hope for… at the end of the day, it was no better in protecting these women than the paper it was printed on.
