Chapter Nine - You'll Never Walk Alone
At some point in the night, I must've fallen asleep because when I opened my eyes, it was morning. FP was next to me, holding me close, his arms wrapped around my waist. If I could feel anything at the time, I would've said that the gentle pressure of his body pressed against mine made me feel safe. But I was numb to the world around me. I didn't feel safe. The man I'd run away from, who was probably out to kill me, had tracked me down. Was there no place safe enough for me?
Carefully, I untangled myself from FP's embrace, making sure not to wake him, and walked to the sitting room. The morning sun cast shadows over the quiet town. I wondered where he was. Was he staying here, at the Five Seasons? If he was, did he know that I was here too? No, he couldn't.
I turned to see FP standing in the doorway looking frantic. When he realised I was still there, he relaxed. "I thought you tried to run off again when I woke up and you weren't there. I was worried."
"No," I shook my head and walked over to him. I took his hand in mine and interlaced our fingers. "I'm not running anymore. I'm ready to face this." I looked up at him, a fire burning in my eyes. I was done running. I was done being afraid. I'd had a taste of what it was to be treated with respect, be loved, and I wasn't going to let that go. If I was going to fight, it had to be now. It was time to stand my ground.
"Sheriff Jones," I said calmly. "I would like to report a case of domestic violence. And yes, I am pressing charges."
I sat in the passenger seat of the truck, watching the world go by, as we drove to the station. FP sat beside me in plain clothes as I played with the buttons on the sleeve of the flannel that he had given me. While I was ready for the fight ahead, I was afraid of where it would take me. I didn't want to drag FP down with me, but I knew that he would gladly walk through Hell beside me if I asked. And that's what I'd done. It was time to face the fire, and we would either survive together or be burned together. Either way, we were going to stand side by side.
Outside of the sheriff's station sat a black Chevy SUV. I recoiled at the sight. I hadn't seen that car in town before. And, judging by the look on FP's face, he hadn't either.
Gesturing for me to wait, he got out and walked around to the passenger side. He opened the door and gave me his hand, helping me down from the cab. "It's ok. We'll go inside, close the door to the office. No one has to know you're here."
I nodded and held his hand in mine.
As we walked up to the door, a voice called out, and the place in my chest where my heart was just moments ago, was now empty. "Artemis," Drew started to approach me, but FP stood in his way. "Artemis, I've been so worried about you. Come on. It's time to go home."
"She's not going anywhere with you," FP said flatly.
Drew tried to push past him, but FP kept himself between me and my abuser. I was scared. Not for myself though. I was scared for them. I knew that Drew would try everything to get to me, and I knew FP would do anything to stop him.
"Look," Drew said. "She's my wife and I'd like to take her home now."
FP looked over his shoulder at me. "Artemis, is this man your husband?" He knew that he was. The question was just so that Drew could hear it from me.
"Yes," I said.
"And do you want to go with him?"
"No." My voice was cold and distant, but, at the same time, it was defiant. I'd finally worked up the courage to say no to that man.
He turned back to Drew, standing his ground. "Then that's settled. She's not going anywhere."
The look on Drew's face was teetering between annoyance and anger. It was a look that I'd become all too familiar with. He held out a hand to me. "Artemis, stop playing games, and let's go."
I just pulled FP's jacket and flannel tighter around myself and shook my head almost imperceptibly. When I found my voice again, I said, "No. I'm staying here. This is my home."
"Artemis—" he started, but FP cut him off.
"She said no. Now I suggest you leave."
"I'm not gonna let some backwoods, wannabe cop tell me that I can't take my wife home." He snapped and tried to get passed my protector again. That was a mistake.
FP turned to me and took the badge from his belt, placing it into my hand. Suddenly, he spun back around, and his fist collided with Drew's face, breaking his nose. As Drew stood there clutching his bloody nose, FP turned to me again. Behind him, Drew shouted through the river of blood running down his face. "I'll have you charged for assault on a federal officer!"
He grabbed my shoulders and started to lead me inside. "Yeah, well, I've been to prison for worse."
In the office, I sat on the couch quietly. I wasn't upset, or mad, or scared. I was just…there. "I wish you hadn't done that," I said before my brain could stop my mouth like so many times before.
FP sat down beside me, putting a hand on mine. It was the hand he used to punch Drew. His knuckles were red from the impact. I gently brushed my fingertips over the angry flesh.
"I wasn't going to let him near you, and he wasn't backing down." He said, looking down at my hands with his.
"I know. I just—" I started. "Now, he's gonna be angry. As if he wasn't already…"
He gently put a hand under my chin and lifted my face to his. "You let me worry about that." I just nodded.
