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The Color of Truth

By Stacy Monson

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-1-


“Do you know who did this to you?”
The man’s question came down a long tunnel, echoing through her throbbing head.
Marti Gustafson turned her face from the questions he’d been asking since he entered the claustrophobic ER room. Of course she knew. The memory sent her heart into overdrive.
An icy liquid blazed against her cheek and she sucked in a sharp breath, lifting a hand in protest. Why won’t they leave me alone?
“I know it stings, honey,” soothed a female voice. “It will take the edge off the pain.” A gentle hand brushed her forehead; the touch was soft, cool. Safe. “Take slow breaths. There you go. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Push the button if you need me.”
“Miss.” The man again, gently persistent. “Once you tell us who did this, we can get him locked up.”
With both eyes swollen shut, she couldn’t see her questioner. No doubt he wore a black uniform, cop hat in hand, shiny badge glinting in the light. Maybe he thought he could help, but he’d only make it worse.
“Doesn’t matter,” she croaked. Moving her lips sent fire across her face. “He’s gone.”
“They’re never gone for long. If we can put him away for a while, it’ll send a clear message. Was he your boyfriend?”
“No!” The emphatic word shot through her ribs and she flinched. Not that Eddy hadn’t suggested it. Numerous times. She’d protected herself with a knife, the only thing she could thank her father for, but the one time she hadn’t kept it handy—
“A relative?”
“A mistake.” The biggest of her life. A deep sigh stung her split lip and she ran her tongue over it carefully, tasting antiseptic, salt, and blood.
“I’ll let you rest,” the man said quietly. “We can talk later. My name is Detective Ben Evans. I’ll leave my card here so you can call me.”
The door to her left opened and closed, his purposeful footsteps fading down the hall. Silence, the first she’d had in months. She relaxed into the bed, her head aching. Even in her tiny Uptown Minneapolis apartment there’d been constant noise, deep voices, ringing phones at all hours. She’d slept facing the locked and barred bedroom door, knife in hand, since Eddy took advantage of her kindness and commandeered her life.
All she’d ever wanted was a quiet life. No drama, no excitement. Just her and Katie. A tear trickled along her temple. She’d take another beating if it meant Eddy would stay away from her younger sister.
When she’d received the landlord’s complaint letter, she hadn’t considered Eddy’s reaction before showing it to him. She should have. Awash in relief that she would finally be free of him, she’d told him he had to leave or the cops would show up. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She shivered beneath the lightweight blanket, the memory as clear and cold as the ER.
His cool, polished persona had transformed in an instant, and he’d slammed her against the wall, her toes barely touching the kitchen floor. “You called the cops?”
“No!” she’d squeaked, clawing at his forearm against her neck. “They will. Eddy, I…can’t breathe.”
He stepped back and she collapsed to the worn linoleum, a hand at her neck as she wheezed in a breath.
“I’ve watched you talking with the lady in the office downstairs.” The controlled image returned, vibrating with the energy of a rattlesnake. “Have you mentioned me?”
“Of course not.”
He cocked his head of thick dark hair, the gold chain at his neck catching the overhead light. “Then how would she know I’m here?”
“You’re hard to miss with your expensive suits. And there are cameras everywhere.” She pushed to her feet, every nerve screaming an alert.
“Tell them I’m your cousin, and I’m here for a visit.”
“They know you’re not.” She started toward her bedroom where her knife hid under the mattress, legs wobbling like jelly.
The click of Eddy’s expensive boots followed, and she fought the urge to run.
“I suggest you make them believe it, Martha. If trouble comes, you’ll go down first.”
“Why don’t you go live off someone else?” she threw over her shoulder. Because no one was as big a fool as her. She prayed he couldn’t hear the thrashing under her ribs. A few more steps—
“Looking for this?”
She turned slightly. Her pearl handled knife dangled from his long, manicured fingers. She’d seen him turn that smile on “clients” who couldn’t pay; her gut clenched. All these months she’d kept her mouth shut, head down, staying out of his way. Now she was the sole focus of his wrath.
“I didn’t get to where I am today without understanding human nature. I picked you because you’re easy to manipulate, Martha.” His chuckle lacked humor, the glint in his black eyes unmistakable from where he stood in the doorway. “You’re not hard to look at either.”
She set her shoulders against an icy shiver and thrust out a hand. “Give me that, Eddy. It’s from my dad.”
Darkness edged his short laugh. “He’s in jail, sweetheart. Same place you’ll be if you turn on me.”
Facing him, she scrounged deep for courage. “I won’t if you get out of my apartment. I want my life back.”
His was the face of a lion studying its next meal. He was toying with her, as if he could smell her fear. “We could have ruled the world together, Martha. We still can if you lighten up.”
Nausea edged the panic that kept her rooted in place. “I don’t want to be ‘together,’ Eddy. Give me my knife. Then you can pack your stuff, and I’ll forget you were ever here.”
“Perhaps I should pay Katherine a visit. I’m sure she’d be more welcoming to a…friendship.”
She swayed as the world fell away from her feet. “You stay away from her! She’s a child.”
His chuckle was as sharp as the blade in his hand. “Oh, but haven’t you noticed? She’s grown into a lovely young woman. I’ve always preferred blondes, you know.”
Bile stung her throat. Enough! This nightmare ends right now. “I’m warning you, Eddy. If you go near her, I will call the cops.”
He considered the knife. “I guess you’re right, Martha. This does belong to you.”
The knife whizzed toward her.
She shrieked and ducked, then lunged toward where it stuck in the wall over her bed. His arms around her waist sent her to the floor, and she kicked hard, connecting with some part of him hard enough for him to grunt and curse.
She was in the fight of her life. For her life. And for Katie’s. He would not win. Her blouse ripped and she screamed, clawing at him. His fist connected with her face. She tasted blood. In the distance, she heard pounding. She pummeled and kicked, her strength ebbing.
“Help...” It was the last thing she remembered as the apartment door crashed open.
The cool of the ER pulled her back, and the shuddering intensified. She burrowed under the blanket, clutching the flimsy sheet to her chest. She’d survived—this time.
What if he meant it? What if he went after Katie? Her pulse rate tripled, and she pushed up on an elbow, ribs screaming in protest. “Katie!” She used the icy bed rail to ease upright, then paused, woozy and panting as an alarm chimed behind her.
“Marti, what can I get for you?” The nurse’s voice, a gentle hand on her shoulder. The alarm stopped.
“I need…to get to Katie.” She tried to force her eyes open. The door was to her left. If she could just—
“Honey, you’re in no shape to even stand up. I’m sure she’s fine.”
“No!” She wrapped an arm across her chest, swaying. “He said he’d go there.”
“We’ll send a police officer to check on her, all right? Let’s get you back on the pillow.”
“But I have to…” The little strength she’d found slipped away, and she let the nurse resettle her.
Cool fingers stroked her forehead. “We’ll make sure Katie is safe.”
“Where’s…my phone?” She’d had it on her. Hadn’t she?
“It’s right here.”
The familiar device was pressed into her hand, and Marti pulled it under the covers, curling around it. The photos of Eddy’s business were her only insurance against him.
“I need to…Katie…” The protest trailed off her lips into swirling darkness that inched closer. The fiery pain around her eyes waned and she drifted under the nurse’s butterfly touch.
Images faded in and out. Beautiful Katie—green eyes sparkling, long blonde hair swept up into a crazy ponytail as they laughed together over ice cream. Marti had done all she could to protect her—from their mother, from the men who came and went. From Eddy. She reached for her baby sister, but she was so tired, her arms like lead. Darkness beckoned. A little rest now and she’d get back to building their future.

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