Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 121871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
I’d had the phone on speaker through the car’s Bluetooth. London heard this update, but she waited patiently for me to respond once I hung up.
Yet I couldn’t speak. My mind raced with the worst-case scenarios for why Jill had been arrested and how whatever she’d done had impacted Kelly.
Therefore, when London finally did talk, I physically jolted out of my thoughts.
“I never thought getting beaten up by my boyfriend would happen to me.”
Her words shocked me. Blunt and unexpected and brutal in their honesty.
“I naively assumed that I’d never choose someone capable of that.” Her tone was soft, sorrowful, and her words seeped into my overwrought concern for Kelly. “But I don’t think most men who abuse are pictures of aggression and violence. I think they’re probably more like Nick. Charming and charismatic. And the abuse—at least his was—is insidious. Hard to prove. It started not with a bang, but quietly. He would put me down, pluck out my insecurities and reinforce them. Isolate me from my friends. Try to brainwash me into believing no one loved me but him. And I don’t know how I didn’t truly see it at first. Maybe I did. Maybe I just bought his crap, and that’s on me.”
My chest fucking ached at what she described. When I glanced at her, she wiped tears off her cheeks. My fists clenched around the steering wheel.
“The first time he punched me, I was in shock. And there was no one I could call because he’d made me believe that no one would care.” Her next breath was shaky, and I wished like hell I wasn’t driving so I could touch her, comfort her. I wished like hell that son of a bitch was in front of me so I could wrap my hand around his throat and see how he liked it. “He was so apologetic that I convinced myself it wouldn’t happen again. But it did. Several times. And when it did happen, it was like he had a rage blackout and then was eerily calm again.”
I glanced over to find her watching me, expression regretful and so sad it hurt to witness.
“I wished I could have called my dad and asked him to come get me and that he would have dropped everything to jump in a car to race across the country to make sure I was okay. But I don’t have a dad like Kelly’s dad. I wouldn’t trade who you are or how you care for the people you love for anything, Murray Shaw. And neither would your daughter.”
Emotion thickened my throat so tight I couldn’t speak.
“There are things that will happen to her that you can’t control. It’s scary and awful, but that’s life. What you can control is how you show up for her. Do you hear me, Murray? You are the best father I’ve ever known, and I need you to hear me when I say that.”
I swallowed past the constriction and as we slowed in traffic, I could safely turn to meet her bright gaze. Something overwhelming filled my entire being as I looked at London. “I hear you … Thank you.”
Her smile was soft, kind, relieved as she reached out to pat my knee quickly. “Good. Now let’s go bring Kelly home.”
15. Murray
“Do you want me to wait in the car?” London asked as soon as I parked outside the police station. “For Kelly’s sake? It might be weird for her if I walk in by your side.”
I considered it, but after what London had shared, I wanted to keep her with me. She made me feel like I hadn’t let Kelly down. That I could still make this okay for my daughter. “I’d like you there. Kelly could do with all the support she can get.”
My phone rang as we got out of the car, and I saw it was my mum. I dreaded explaining to her what was going on, but I’d rather I had all the information first, so I decided I’d call her back later.
London hurried to match my stride, and I felt a tickle on my palm and looked down only to see she was reaching for my hand. There was an uncertainty in her expression that tightened into determination before she threaded her fingers through mine.
I squeezed her hand in thanks and led her inside the station.
After I’d explained who I was at Reception, we had to wait a few minutes before a police officer arrived. Every second was torture. Someone might as well have been in the room dragging their nails down a chalkboard for how agitated I was.
“Mr. Shaw, I’m PC Brown. I was one of the officers who attended your ex-wife’s home this morning and I’ve been looking after your daughter Kelly,” the kind female officer around London’s age introduced herself.