Chapter Forty-Two
Tatum's heart raced when she pulled up in the driveway just in time to see an ambulance and several cop cars speed off. "Izzy?" she called as she rushed inside, praying nothing had happened to her sister. She gave a relieved sigh when her sister replied from the living room. "What happened?" she asked, surprised to find Isabella curled up on the sofa in her usual baggy outfit and Austin rolling up the carpet that looked to have a bloodstain on it. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," the brunette answered, ignoring the disagreeing hum the sheriff gave.
"David attacked her, but she pushed back," he told the redhead when Isabella didn't offer any explanation. He sounded pissed off, but both sisters could hear a trace of pride in his voice. It wasn't often that women in these situations defended themselves, and, though it had taken Isabella quite some time to do so, she'd shown strength most people lacked.
Tatum sat down next to her sister and pulled her into a hug, only realising her sister had lost a lot of weight when she wrapped her arms around her and there wasn't much there to hug. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked as Isabella rested her head on her shoulder.
The Colombian merely shrugged, she had no idea how to explain to her sister that she didn't think life had anything better in store for her, how even now she was scared to be alone. Her gaze shifted to the sheriff, the only decent guy she'd ever dated, and even he'd ditched her without a second glance. He looked up and locked eyes with her, clearing his throat as if he could read her mind. He wanted to tell her he was sorry for what he'd done to her, he'd wanted to tell her so many times, but it had been so long ago and he didn't know what good it would do them to dredge everything up.
"Everythin's gonna be okay," Tatum whispered softly, pressing a kiss to her sister's forehead as she held her close. There was no way she'd let that jackass anywhere near her again. She could feel Isabella fight back a sob. "What do we do now?" the redhead asked the Sheriff as she spoke up a little.
"Well, once the doctors clear him, the deputies will take him to the station to book him. And, we start the procedure of pressin' charges," Austin said slowly, praying that the Colombian would do the smart thing.
"No, I'm not pressing charges," Isabella said adamantly as she pulled away from her sister, seeing two sets of disappointed eyes. If she did press charges, David would find a way of making her life even more miserable, she just knew it.
"Izzy," Tatum started, wanting to convince her.
"Well we don't need to make any decisions tonight," Austin used his Sheriff's voice to cut her off and to give Isabella a break. "He'll be in hospital until mornin' and then he'll spend a day or two in jail, so you've got some time to think," he explained, even if he knew from her look that she wouldn't be changing her mind. But even if she didn't, there was one small ray of light about the situation; the fact that she'd rung him, and David would be taken to hospital and booked into jail, meant there would at least be a record of what his loose fists could do. One of his colleagues had taken pictures of the bruises on her body, in a separate room away from prying eyes, before Tatum had gotten home. And that record would follow him through the rest of this state at least. It was only a small comfort, but it was a start. "Do you need me to stay?" he asked them now. Even if there was no chance of David coming here tonight, they might feel better knowing there was someone else in the house keeping watch.
"I don't mind, Izzy?" Tatum left the decision with her sister.
The brunette looked from her sister to the Sheriff's bulging muscles and holstered gun. "Yeah, maybe," Isabella nodded slowly.
"I'll take the couch, you won't even know I'm here," he promised them quickly.
Austin sighed as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and tried to wake himself up a bit. He'd spent the night on the girls' sofa and, while he'd dozed off a couple of times, he hadn't actually slept properly. There were too many thoughts crashing through his head, about how it could've ended, how it might still end if they couldn't convince her to press charges. He could tell straight away from their expressions that neither woman had slept particularly well either.
After Tatum had made them some breakfast, as she still needed to eat well, Austin had eventually taken his leave and headed to the station. His deputies had brought David over from the hospital and booked him in already by the time he got there.
"What are you staring at?" David's hostile tone regained his attention.
"Just a scumbag finally in his rightful place," the Sheriff smirked at him. "I hope you're not too comfortable in there," he added before he focused back on his papers. He needed to make sure he recorded her call and the time he'd gotten there.
"You know she'll take me back," his prisoner tried to goad him now.
"Not if I can help it," Austin muttered to himself. He put his headphones in and was able to ignore him and pretty much everyone else for the next few hours.
What did finally get his attention, was his best friend almost throwing the door open after one of the officers had let him through. "Aaron, what…?" Austin started as he got up.
"What is this I hear about you lockin' up David?" Austin asked, trying to sound like he was still being friendly, but his friend knew better; the Millers hated anyone who laid their hands on a woman. It was the only situation in which they tended to become slightly violent themselves. The Sheriff quickly stepped through into the first part of the office as he closed the door towards the cells behind him; he knew if he didn't, David could actually be in physical danger. "This isn't about those bogus ideas of yours, is it?" the Miller asked.
"Aaron, come on," his friend said. "Besides, they weren't bogus. He's been usin' her as a punchin' bag, for a while," he said, hating how he sounded so blunt and casual about it.
"What?" his tone was icy, and it made the sheriff slightly nervous; maybe he'd blurted it out a little too casually.
"He's bein' held… for domestic abuse," Austin paraphrased now, even though really that wasn't any better.
"He's been beatin' Isabella?" his friend asked through clenched teeth, balling and unballing his fists by his side. "Can I talk to him?"
"I don't think that's a good idea," the Sheriff said uncomfortably, resting his hands on the holsters on his hips, trying to radiate his authority. "He's not even seen a lawyer yet, and I need to follow protocol in case she wants to press charges," he explained his reasons.
"Man, as a friend…"
"Exactly, as a friend, you can't ask me to break procedure in this kind'a case," Austin interrupted him, knowing his friend was about to try and guilt trip him; he didn't look impressed that the Sheriff had interrupted him. The two men looked at each other for a few moments before the one not in uniform seemed to concede.
"Fine, I can wait," Aaron said, holding his hands up innocently. "I'll see you around Austin," he told his friend now, backing out of his office while keeping his eye on the door towards the cells. The Sheriff had a horrible feeling this was not the last time his friend would try to talk to David.