Journey

“I can't accept it. I'm sorry, Jack,” she said, and his eyes narrowed as he watched her. He could sense the prey slipping slowly away from him, and for an instant she thought he was going to grab her, but he didn't.

“Why not?”

“I'm leaving you.” She stunned herself with her words, but not as much as she stunned Jack. He looked as though she had hit him.

“What the fuck is that all about?” As usual, he covered up his own sins and weaknesses by being nasty to her.

“I can't do this anymore.”

“Do what?” he asked, pacing the room, unwilling to simply accept it and leave her. He looked like a tiger stalking his prey, but he didn't frighten her as he once had. And she knew she was safe here. There were people all around them, just beyond her doorway. “What is it that you can't do? Live a life of luxury? Go to Europe twice a year? Travel on a private jet? Get jewelry whenever I'm dumb enough to buy it for you? What a tough life to put up with, for a slut from Knoxville.” He was at it again.

“That's the trouble, Jack,” she said, sounding tired, and leaning back against her pillow as she watched him. “I'm not a slut from Knoxville. I never was. Even back then when I was poor and unhappy.”

“Bullshit. I don't recall that you were ever from the right side of the tracks, or even knew what they looked like. Hell, you were a whore when you were a kid. Look at Lizzie.”

“Yeah, look at her. She's a great kid, and a decent person in spite of some pretty rotten breaks, thanks to me. I owe her something now. And I owe myself something.”

“You owe me everything. And I hope you realize you'll be out of a job if you leave me.” His eyes glittered like steel.

“Possibly. I'll let my lawyers handle that, Jack. I have a contract with the network. You can't just throw me out without notice or compensation.” She had gotten braver and smarter while fighting for her life in the rubble. She wondered how he could think that the things he was saying to her would convince her to stay with him. But once they might have, out of pure intimidation. That was the sad part.

“Don't threaten me. You won't get a dime out of me with that bullshit. And don't forget the prenup you signed. You walk out of my house empty-handed. It's all mine, even your fucking pantyhose. You walk out on me, Maddy, and all you've got is the hospital gown you're wearing.”

“What do you want from me?” she asked sadly. “Why do you want me to stay? You hate me.”

“I have every right to hate you. You lie to me. You've cheated on me. I know you have a boyfriend who calls you every day. How fucking dumb do you think I am?” Not dumb. Mean. But she didn't say it to him. She was brave, not foolish.

“He's not a boyfriend. We've just been friends till now. I have never cheated on you. And the only thing I've ever lied to you about is Lizzie.”

“I'd say that's a big one. But I'm willing to forgive you. I'm the victim here, not you. I'm the one who's gotten screwed over in this deal, and I'm still willing to put up with you. You don't know how lucky you are. Just wait till you're starving and back in some shit hole in Memphis, or Knoxville, or wherever the hell you wind up with your bastard kid. You'll be begging me to come back,” he said, slowly approaching the bed as she wondered what he would do next. There was a look in his eyes she'd never seen before, and she was instantly reminded of everything she'd been told in her abuse group. When he would sense his prey leaving him, he would do everything he could to stop her. Whatever he had to. “You're not leaving me, Mad,” he said, standing over her, as she trembled. “You haven't got the balls for that. You're too smart for that. You're not going to throw a golden life and your whole career out the window, are you?” He was wheedling and terrifying, and there was an implied threat just in the way he looked at her. “Maybe you got hit on the head last night. Maybe that's what happened to you. Maybe I ought to knock some sense into you to get you thinking straight again. How about it, Maddy?” But as he said it to her, she felt everything rise up in her, and she knew that if he laid a hand on her, she'd kill him. She was not going to let him do this again, drag her back and torture her and humiliate her and convince her she was dirt and deserved all the misery and accusations he heaped on her. And the look in her eyes would have terrified him if he'd understood it.

“If you lay a hand on me, here or anywhere else, I swear I'll kill you. I've taken all the shit from you I'm ever going to. You cleaned the floor with me, but it's all over, Jack. I'm not coming back. Find someone else to dump on, and abuse, and torture.”

“Oh listen to the big girl threatening her daddy. Poor baby. Do I scare you, Mad?” he asked, laughing at her, but she was out of bed now and facing him. The time had come. The game was over.

“No, you don't scare me, you son of a bitch. You make me sick. Get out of my room, Jack. Or I'll call for security and have you thrown out.”