Chapter 3 - Locking Out The Monster
Ryan turned back to me, trying to smooth his messy hair.
He actually attempted a charming smile.
The same smile he used to win me over twelve years ago in a coffee shop.
“Emily, honey. Let’s go inside and talk about this. Just you and me.”
I felt bile rise in my throat.
“Don't call me honey. And you are never stepping foot in that house again.”
“Emily, be reasonable. I'm your husband. I'm Lily's father!”
“Are you?” I snapped. “Is Lily even your real daughter's name? Do you even care?”
I pulled out my phone and dialed 911.
“Yes, I need police at my residence immediately. A man is trespassing and he assaulted me.”
Ryan’s eyes widened in genuine terror.
“Emily, hang up the phone! You can't do this!”
He took a step toward me, but Crawford’s silent bodyguard blocked his path.
“The police are on their way,” I said, my voice eerily calm.
I turned on my heel and walked toward my front door.
My hands were shaking so badly I could barely get the key in the lock.
I stepped inside and slammed the heavy oak door shut, locking the deadbolt.
I leaned against the wood, sliding down to the floor, finally allowing the tears to fall.
Eleven years.
Every anniversary, every birthday, every late-night conversation.
All of it was a meticulously crafted script.
“Mommy?”
I looked up.
Lily was standing at the top of the stairs, clutching her stuffed rabbit.
Her little face was flushed from the fever, her eyes sleepy and confused.
“Is Daddy home? I heard yelling.”
I quickly wiped my face, pasting on the bravest smile I could muster.
I ran up the stairs and scooped her into my arms.
She felt so warm, so fragile.
“Daddy had to go away for a little while, sweetie,” I whispered into her hair.
“Did he go on another business trip?” she asked innocently.
“Yes,” I lied, my heart breaking for her. “A very long business trip.”
Through the thick glass of the windows, I saw the flashing red and blue lights of police cruisers pulling up to the gates.
I carried Lily back to her bedroom and tucked her in.
“You just rest, baby. Mommy is right here. Nobody is going to hurt you.”
I walked to the balcony that overlooked the driveway.
Two police officers had Ryan pinned against the hood of a cruiser.
They were reading him his rights and snapping handcuffs onto his wrists.
Mr. Crawford was standing nearby, handing the officers a thick stack of files.
Ryan looked up at the balcony and saw me standing there.
He didn't look sorry. He didn't look remorseful.
He looked absolutely furious.
His eyes promised revenge.
I didn't shrink back. I didn't look away.
I stared right back at him as they shoved his head down and pushed him into the back of the police car.
The car drove away, taking the illusion of my perfect life with it.
But I knew this wasn't over.
Men like Ryan didn't just give up.
I walked downstairs and let Mr. Crawford into the living room.
“I need to know everything,” I told him. “Every single detail.”
May you like
Crawford nodded, opening his briefcase on my coffee table.
“Pour yourself a drink, Mrs. Bennett. It’s a very long, very ugly story.”
