Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
He was too far away for me to hear what was said. But even if he’d been closer, I probably still wouldn’t have because Thomas, a man I’ve known as nothing but dignified and controlled for the last five years, has spent the entirety of the last thirty minutes yelling.
At me. At the sheriff. At Bennett. I’m pretty sure he’d shout the whole damn town down if Officer Rice hadn’t gotten fed up with him enough to put him in the car.
Always, always, always, he is the most important man in the room. And evidently, in a moment where he wasn’t, being decorous and controlled wasn’t going to cut it.
“Come on,” Josie consoles, wrapping her arm around my shoulders as the two cruisers pull away. “Bennett gave me his keys so I can take his truck down to the station. You drive my car.”
God, what a mess.
“Josie,” I say softly, my voice breaking.
“It’s going to be okay, Norah.”
I wish she was right. But nothing about any of this feels okay as I watch the back of Bennett’s head get farther and farther away in Sheriff Peeler’s cruiser.
“Bennett Bishop doesn’t know me—doesn’t even like me.” My voice is barely above a whisper. “Hell, up until forty minutes ago, I thought his name was Norman.”
“What?” Josie turns to look at me, her eyes searching mine.
I shake my head. It doesn’t matter. “He can’t go to jail for me.”
Josie’s ordinarily sharp face turns soft, and that reaction reminds me of the way she used to be with me when we were kids. It nearly makes me burst into tears. “Don’t worry about that, okay? Sheriff Pete’s an old goat, but he’s not an idiot, Nore. He could see what was going on there, just like the rest of us. He’ll manage the situation, and Bennett’ll be fine.”
If he’d only punched Thomas that one time, when no one but I was around, I might agree with her. But he punched him twice, the second occurring in front of the biggest audience that included the sheriff and the freaking mayor.
“What do you mean, Josie? What did he see going on? I mean, Thomas definitely lost it, but it’s not like he hit me or severely injured me.”
“Oh, honey. That’s not how domestic violence works.” Her voice is warm, and she reaches out to run a gentle index finger over the faint bruise on my arm that I didn’t even realize was there. “It’s not scaled or judged by injuries. He made you feel unsafe. He tried to force you to go to his car, even though you’d told him no. He shouted horrible things at you. Sheriff Peeler, me, Bennett, Officer Rice…we can all see what’s going on.”
Tears threaten, and my nose burns with the intensity it takes to hold them back. Josie reaches up and wipes my face, and I take that as confirmation that one has escaped.
“Come on, honey. Let’s go down to the station. You’re going to need to give an official statement, and Ben’s going to need his truck.”
I suck my lips into my mouth, and Josie squeezes my hand before putting her keys in it. “Drive my car, Nore. Just follow me.”
I manage a nod before turning to unlock her SUV and climb inside. My head is nothing but fog as I start the car and pull out of the space, following Bennett’s truck through the square, to the other side of town, and down two blocks to the police station. I’m barely aware as we walk inside and get escorted by a deputy, and I can hardly see my own two feet as Josie guides me inside the sheriff’s personal office.
Sheriff Peeler sits across from us in his desk chair, and it’s all I can do not to start shaking all over. The police station is small, and his office is even smaller—a tiny square box filled with a metal desk, a few chairs, an unhealthy amount of bright, fluorescent tube lighting, and loads of papers and files scattered about on shelves and cabinets. Still, it’s all very official, making the seriousness of the situation painfully obvious.
I try to focus on Sheriff Pete as he talks, but it’s hard. I’ve never been as scared as I was today.
“Lee is confident the assault charges Thomas King wants to put on Bennett Bishop will be dropped on account of self-defense, and he’ll be able to use him as a witness in your case. He wants to criminally charge Thomas King with domestic violence, so you’ll—”
“Wait…” I stop him before he can explain further. “Who is Lee?”
“Lee is the county prosecutor,” Sheriff Peeler elucidates. “Real good buddy of mine and a good man. You’ll like him.”
“He wants to criminally charge Thomas?”
“Yes, Miss Norah.” The sheriff nods. “Lee has enough evidence for the case to proceed and take this to court. But he’d need you as a witness and for you to be willing to press charges.”