Chapter Four
"Michaela," Jacks voice was steady but Michaela knew better. Handing Daniel his shirt, Michaela went over to her husband. She noticed he had a bouquet of roses in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. "Jack, I'd like you to meet Daniel, our neighbor. Daniel this is my husband, Jack."
Throwing his shirt over his head Daniel moved in and offered his hand. "Nice to meet you."
"Daniel," Jack nodded shaking his hand.
Knowing she had to bite the bullet because the situation looked worse than what it was Michaela spoke up. "Jack, Daniel's an ex-Plummer and he offered to fix our pipes. You know the one under the sink that won't stop leaking."
Placing the flowers on the counter Jack moved toward the sink rubbing the bottom of his chin. "So what was wrong with it?"
"Cracked washer," he pointed. "Dang thing busted on me. Almost drown under there," he laughed.
Glancing toward her husband Michaela commented, "Daniel, his wife and little girl just moved from New York. Aren't one of your offices in New York?"
"Yes," he nodded. "Well you and your wife will have to come over some time, we'll barbeque.
Barbeque, Michaela though raising her brows. Jack had never barbequed in his life. Becoming nervous Michaela started to drum her fingers on the outside of her thigh. "Yes, that…that would be nice."
"Well," Daniel closed the cupboard door. "I better go, Abby's probably home by now." Making his way toward the door he gestured toward both of them. "Nice to meet you guys."
"Yes," Jack waved. "Don't be a stranger."
Closing the door behind him Jack stood for a moment not moving, watching out the window as Daniel made his way out of their yard.
"They're such a nice couple," Michaela began. "They have a four year old daughter and they moved here because they have family and they want their daughter to have friends to play with." Turning toward the counter Michaela picked up the flowers, bringing them to her nose. "These are beautiful are they for-"
"Shut up," Jack turned around. "Does it give you that much pleasure to humiliate me" he moved in closer.
"Humiliate?" Michaela trembled. "Jack, Daniel was just-"
Jacks hand quickly but with much force found its way across Michaela's face causing her to stumble backward.
"Oh!" Michaela gasped in shock holding her cheek.
"How do you think it makes me feel to come home and find another man in my house with my wife, huh!" Jack's hand again found her face, slapping her hard. "Why the hell didn't he have a shirt on? Huh?"
"Jack please!" Michaela's held her hand out in front of her.
Grabbing her hair straight down Jack peered into her eyes. "Did you fuck him? Did you!" he screamed.
"No! Jack stop it!" she grabbed his hand pulling her hair from his tight grasp. "Let me go!"
"You whore!" He struck her again, this time causing her to fall to the floor.
Scrambling, Michaela tried to get out of his line of vision. Lifting herself from the floor she held her hands out in front of her, backing away.
"Where'd you do it huh?" He grabbed her shoulders pushing her back against the wall causing her head to hit the hard surface. "The bedroom? Or right here on the kitchen floor?"
"Stop it, Jack! Stop it!" she screamed wiggling from his grasp. "You don't know what you're talking about!" she cried. "He was just fixing the pipes! I promise! Jack, please!"
"You're a lying filthy slut!" he hit her again this time landing squarely in her jaw.
The tears were falling so steadily down her face that she could barley see Jack's face. And for the first time in her life she actually wished Jack would kill her so this nightmare would be over. She could taste the sickening flavor of copper in her mouth as the blood dripped from her lips. "Jack please, please stop."
"You disgust me," he kicked her squarely in the knee caps then again in the ribs. "Look at you!" he screamed. "You're pathetic. You're a pathetic excuse for a woman." Dropping to his knees he brought his face close to hers. "What did you think, huh? Did you think I would leave you? Let you go," he laughed. "Not a chance. Besides two people can play at this game," he smirked. "I'm sure you don't think you're the only one. You're not that good, Michaela," he grabbed her breast.
"Ahh!" Michaela screamed out in sheer emotion. Grabbing his hair she thrusted his head against the granite cabinet. "Get off of me!" she ran making her way to the door.
Jack screamed as he felt the back of his head hit the knob of the cabinet. And just as Michaela touched the knob she felt something grab her ankle causing her to fall forward.
"Bitch!" Jack grabbed Michaela by the waist practically throwing her across the kitchen. Jumping the counter Jack was at her side in an instant. Giving her one last slap was all Jack needed to knock her unconscious. "You're not that good," he seethed.
Michaela awoke to the loud clapping of thunder and the flash of lightening illuminating the disheveled kitchen. Opening her eyes she become aware of the pounding sensation just behind her temples. Sighing she tried to get up, a whimper escaping her lips. "Oh my god," she cried as the kitchen started to spin. She felt as if every bone in her body was screaming at her not to move. Doing a quick assessment of her injuries to make sure nothing was broken Michaela grabbed onto the leg of the table and slowly lifted herself up. Stumbling back onto the counter Michaela saw black spots flash before her eyes. A sharp pain shot through her side and she let out a soft cry. "Oh!" she whimpered grabbing her ribs, knowing that they might be broken. Holding tightly to the counter top she drew in a deep breath. The room was spinning faster and she quickly turned her head to the sink where she vomited.
Heaving Michaela jumped at the loud clap of thunder. It felt as though the storm was right over the house. Retching forth another bout of sickness Michaela felt her knees buckle beneath her. Landing back on the floor Michaela let out another cry. The tears covered her face and she found it difficult to breathe. Sweat clung to her forehead and neck. Leaning her head against the cupboard she cried, she cried harder than she ever had in her life. She wanted more than anything to get away at that moment but she didn't know if she had the strength.
The rain was pouring down on the house in buckets causing it to echo throughout the house. Just barely catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror hanging in the hallway Michaela knew she looked appalling. Pulling herself down the hallway she let the light from the storm be her eyes. Casting her gaze at the mirror her lip quivered. "Oh Jack," she wept touching her face.
Lying on the ground she let her bruised cheek touch the cool wooden floor and it gave her some relief. Closing her eyes she thought back to all the times in her life that led up to where she was today. She knew she was being punished. She was being punished for lying to everyone she knew and loved. The disappointment she felt in her heart was worse, so much worse than the physical pain. And at that moment she knew she had to do something. She couldn't live like this any longer. She couldn't live in fear and lies. Slowly grabbing onto the knob she lifted herself up. Gradually she made her way down the hall. She noticed light from Jack's den and quietly peeked her head inside. He was passed out in his chair an empty decanter of Brandy at his side. "Thank you," she sighed. "Thank you."
Making her way into her room she grabbed some clothes, but not enough for Jack to know some were missing. She took an extra makeup bag from under the sink and put her essentials inside. Walking into her closet she pulled down a shoe box and opened it. Pulling out an envelop of money and credit cards she placed it in her bag as well. Looking around the room one last time she vowed never to come back. A flash of lightening illuminated the room again and she caught sight of her wedding photo sitting on the bedside table. They had a huge, lavish wedding in Beacon Hill and everyone attended. If only she knew in four years where'd she be. Ideas and thoughts conjured in her mind as how she could get away and only one thought came to her.
She walked back down the hallway and paused in front of the den holding her side. Looking at Jack her face wrinkled in hatred. "I hope I never see you again," she whispered, disgust clinging to her voice. Taking a deep breath she kept walking. Down the hallway, and through the kitchen, picking up her keys she opened the back door and entered into the stormy night.
Trying to walk as fast as she could Michaela tapped the code into the garage pad. Watching the door slowly rise her breathing became fast praying Jack wouldn't awaken. Unlocking the driver side door Michaela threw her clothes into the back seat and sat down. Quickly she started the car and rolled down the drive way. Giving a quick glance at the dark house she started off down the road.
Between the tears that clouded her eyes and the heavy rain Michaela could barely see. Gripping the steering wheel her knuckles turned white. A million thoughts filled her mind as she stepped on the gas petal. Rounding the steep hills Michaela didn't even noticed when her speedometer reached sixty and then climbed to seventy-five. All she knew was she need to get out of Mystic as fast as she could, she had to put as much distance between herself and Jack as she could and she didn't care which way she went. As the thunder clapped in the distance Michaela couldn't help but feel that the weather reflected her mood. Reaching eighty miles per hour Michaela started to relax a bit. Her head was still pounding in her ears and her side ached, but she was escaping.
An ascendant knocking woke Jack from his drunken slumber. "Go away!" he slurred, shouting at the door. Dropping deeper in his chair he tried to fall back asleep, but the knocking only grew louder. "Fine!" he barked, knocking over his empty glass. "Hold on!"
Stumbling out of his den and down the hall he turned on the foyer light. "Do you know what time it is!" he threw open the door to reveal two police officers.
"Are you Jack Taylor?"
Jack eyed the two officers then shook his head. "Yes."
The officers eyes' held sorrow and motioned inside. "This is Officer Jenkins, and I'm Officer Gregory, may we come in?"
"What's this about?" Jack grew irritated not stepping away.
"Sir, is Michaela Taylor your wife?"
Dumbfounded for a moment Jack stood rigid. Where was Michaela? "Ah, yes, officer she is."
"May we come in," he asked again wanting to get out of the rain.
Eyeing the officers Jack opened the door wider letting them in. He had them walk the hall to the living room bypassing the kitchen. Turning on the light Jack motioned for the officers to sit on the couch.
"Sir, we're sorry that we have to tell you this, but there's been an accident," the officer played with the rim of his hat.
"An accident?" he tried to grip what they were saying.
"We got a call about an hour ago saying a car was speeding down the ravine around Montano and Atlantic Boulevard at around 1am. We dispatched an officer and when he got to the scene he found tire tracks that were driven off the road. It seems as though the car lost control and went through the guard rail. Upon further investigation he found the car at the bottom of ravine just at the edges of Mystic River."
Jack's head was reeling. "What does this have to do with me?"
The officer paused reaching into his bag. "We found these at the scene." He handed him Michaela's drivers license and a gold chain with a cracked blue sapphire pendant attached. He had given it to Michaela for their second wedding anniversary. "We're sorry Mr. Taylor, but it looks as though your wife was thrown from the car. We believe that the force could have thrown her as least forty feet. We have divers right now dragging the river."
"My God," Jack held his head in his hands. "Michaela…."
"Sir, do you know why your wife was out driving so late?"
Jack froze, knowing he had to pick his words carefully. "I…I didn't even know she was gone. We had dinner and I went to my office to do some paperwork and I must have fallen asleep."
The officers looked at one another, Officer Jenkins taking notes in his pad. "Was she sick or anything?"
"Michaela," he looked up. "No, of course not. But sometimes at night she can't sleep. Maybe that's why she went out for a drive," he guessed.
Officer Gregory spoke, "I'm sorry we don't have anything more concrete for you, Mr. Taylor."
"Not my Michaela," Jack broke down in tears. "Not my beautiful, Michaela!"