Chapter 14
ELLIE
“Excellent, Lucas!” Jonah shouts, clapping his hands. “Now remember what I told you about keeping your head up—good job, kid! Way to commit to it!”
“He understands this is a kindergarten level basketball team, right?” Trisha asks drily from her spot on the bleachers next to me in the rec center’s gym. “I mean, Caleb Adams is over there playing with Pokémon.”
I look over to see that one of Lucas’s teammates has apparently decided to ignore the basketball game in favor of sitting in the middle of the gym floor with his Pokémon cards.
Caleb Adams is far from the only kid not taking this seriously.
One of the other little boys is standing at center court twirling in a circle.
A little girl has wandered aimlessly into one of the corners.
The kids who are actually paying attention to the movement of the ball tend to drop it as soon as it gets into their hands.
I had no idea watching a bunch of kindergarteners play basketball would be so entertaining.
The most entertaining part is not the adorable, clueless five-and-six-year-olds, however.
No, that title quite clearly belongs to the coach—none other than Mister Jonah Barlowe.
When Lucas came home from school a few weeks ago upset because the school couldn’t find a coach and the season might have to be cancelled, Jonah hadn’t even hesitated to volunteer.
I’d tried to explain to him that sports at this age is little more than slightly glorified babysitting, but he’d been insistent.
The weirdest thing? He seems to really like it. And the little kids of Solitude adore Jonah Barlowe.
None more so than my own little guy.
“Do you ever worry that I’m moving too fast?” I ask my cousin as we watch the unorganized mass of kids make their way down to the other basket, the ball changing hands no less than ten times as each kid is unable to hold onto it for more than a few seconds.
Trisha doesn’t answer at first, a reaction that has my stomach sinking. My cousin is not one to mince words, not about anything. The fact that she feels like she needs to proceed carefully tells me that she’s worried.
“You’re the one who tried to get me to hook up with him,” I say, way too defensively.
She holds up her hands. “Hey, I didn’t say anything.”
“But you’re thinking it.” I point at her face. “I can tell you’re thinking this is a bad idea.”
“That’s not true.” She bites on her lip. “Look, when I tried to get you to hook up with the hot bartender, I was thinking more along the lines of a one-night-stand, you know? I wanted you to let your hair down and have some fucking fun for once in your life. I wasn’t expecting…”
“What?”
She lets out all her breath in a swoosh. “I wasn’t expecting you to jump right into a long-term relationship before your divorce is even finalized.”
“It’s not a long-term—” I begin, but she cuts me off.
“Ellie. Give me a break. You’re living with this guy. He’s coaching your kid’s basketball team. I told you to get laid, not to start playing house with some stranger.”
I have no idea what my face looks like, but it must not be good because she winces. “Jesus, I’m sorry. That came out way harsher than I meant it.”
I wave her off. “I get it. Everything happened…it’s been very fast.”
“I’m glad you moved in over there,” she says firmly. “I’m glad that Jonah cares so much about your safety. I swear to God, I sleep better at night knowing you’re there than I ever did when you were back in Georgia.”
I nod. I might have some of my own worries about the speed of my relationship with Jonah, but I can’t deny how safe he makes me feel. I sleep better in that little yellow room in his house than I have in six years.
“I just worry that you don’t have a game plan for beyond this,” she continues. “What happens when the divorce is final and Kevin gets convicted? When you don’t have to worry about him anymore?”
As much as I’m looking forward to that dream scenario in the future, it makes my stomach clench to think about leaving Jonah’s house.
“Look, Ellie,” Trisha says, reaching for my hand. “I think Jonah is great. I really do. From what I can see, that guy treats you like a queen. And he’s been great for Lucas.”
“Then why don’t you approve?”
“I didn’t say I don’t approve. I just don’t want you to feel obligated to stay with this guy because he’s helping you out. You just left a situation where you felt trapped and it would kill me to know you’re in another one.”
My heart softens with affection for my cousin.
I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for her, to know I was so unhappy but not be able to do anything about it.
I never told her about the abuse until after I left, but it was clear to anyone who knew me that my husband was controlling and cruel.
“I don’t feel obligated to Jonah,” I tell her, squeezing her hand back.
“And I don’t feel trapped. Truly.” I let my eyes wander back over to him on the sidelines.
He’s trying to cajole the Pokémon kid to rejoin the game.
Sawyer and Lawson are here, too, standing just next to Jonah on the side of the court.
They seem to be arguing over game strategy, both taking the whole thing way too seriously.
They’re certainly a sight, those three Barlowe boys all lined up next to each other.
Tall, big-shouldered, tattoos visible on their bare forearms. They must have caused quite a ruckus around this town growing up, along with Mac and Nick.
Sawyer told me once that the whole lot of them were huge trouble makers, which is why they all find it so amusing that Jonah is suddenly in the position to be an authority figure for a little kid.
Not that the others have much room to talk. I bet they never expected to be spending a Thursday night at the youth rec center watching kindergarteners attempt to play basketball.
“He makes me feel safe,” I tell my best friend, my voice quiet.
“But it’s more than that. He…he cares about me, Trisha.
He goes out of his way to make me happy.
” I think about coming home from a long day last week to find dinner already on the table, Lucas’s bath taken care of, and a huge bouquet of colorful gerbera daisies in a vase—because I’d once mentioned off-hand that they were my favorite flower.
“It’s simple stuff,” I continue, my voice sounding thick with emotion now.
“He’s not flashy, the way Kevin was when he was first trying to get me to go out with him.
It’s…genuine. Everyday stuff. He makes me feel like he cares about me, not just about scoring points.
He…” my voice trails off as I think about those long hours we’ve spent in the dark of his room these last few weeks, Jonah over me and inside me, whispering how amazing I am in my ear, giving me exactly what he knows I need to feel good.
“Oh my God,” Trisha says beside me, something like awe in her voice. “You’re in love with him.”
I think about denying it—she’ll probably think I’m crazy, feeling that way so soon. But it’s impossible to lie about my feelings for Jonah. It would be too much like betraying him.
“I am. I know it’s fast and I know I’m technically still married but—”
“Stop,” she says. “You don’t have to justify yourself to me.
I was concerned before but…” She shakes her head.
“If you say you love him, I believe you. You’re the most level-headed, responsible person I know.
I trust your instincts, Ellie.” She squeezes my hand.
“Just know that you’re welcome at my place anytime.
I don’t ever want you to feel like you don’t have options, okay? ”
“Thank you, Trisha.” Again my voice grows thick with emotion, but this time, I don’t think I’ll be able to keep the tears from forming in my eyes. “I have no idea what I would have done without you. Really. You saved us.”
She waves off my display of sentiment like her taking us in was no big deal. “Anytime, cousin. Mi casa es su casa. Oh—that reminds me.” She reaches into the purse at her side and pulls out a stack of envelopes. “Your mail since the last time I saw you.”
“Thanks,” I start to move the envelopes into my own purse but my eye is caught by the corner of one of the letters, sticking out from the stack. The envelope is a pale lilac color.
My stomach sinks to my toes, the thudding of my heart suddenly loud in my ears as the sound of the crowd and the game grows tinny, like the noise is coming to me from somewhere far away.
I’d held a small bouquet of lilac colored roses at our courthouse wedding. I’ve never been much of a fan of roses, their scent too strong for me, but that’s what the flower shop had ready on short notice.
And that’s the flower Kevin bought me for every anniversary. And as a sorry every time he “lost his temper.”
It’s also the same color as the last two anonymous letters that have been sent to Trisha’s house in the weeks since I moved into Jonah’s.
“What?” my cousin asks, watching my face. “Jesus, Ellie, what’s the matter?”
My first instinct is to hide the letter. You don’t spend years living with a violent and controlling man not to develop the instinct to hide anything that might draw attention. But Trisha is too fast for me—her hand darts out and before I know it, she has the purple envelope in her hand.
“Trisha—“
She holds it away from me. “You either tell me what this is or I’m opening it myself.”
“Messing with someone’s mail is a crime, you know.”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t try to joke. I saw that look in your eye just now, Ellie. You only look like that when you’re scared shitless.”
I slump against the bench, grateful there’s no one sitting behind us. “I’ve gotten a few. He never signs them, but I know it’s Kevin.”
Her jaw clenches in anger. “What does he say?”
I shrug. “Sometimes he talks about how he’ll do anything to get me back. Other times he keeps it simple and just tells me I’m a whore.”