Chapter 209

Hugo didn’t like my plan of walking straight up to the Zimmer house and knocking on the door, but it was the best I could think of at the time. By that evening, I still hadn’t come up with anything better.

So the next morning, after telling Miles I will be arriving late, but not telling him why, I head over to the Zimmer house.

The house is in a nicer part of town, though the building itself isn’t really that much bigger than mine. It’s better kept, with fresh paint and professional landscaping, but the building itself seems like a single family home.

I imagine Zimmer has many other houses, and this is the one he keeps just for Daphne. Daphne herself has hinted that she has her own place where Edward didn’t use to visit all that often.

Things have changed lately.

I keep thinking of her bruises.

Reaching out, I’m about to press the doorbell when I heard a crash of something breaking followed by a shrill scream.

“Daphne?” I cry out.

With no time to waste, I grab the doorknob and twist. Thank God it’s unlocked!

Pushing inside, I follow the sounds of a struggle, not stopping until I reach a sitting room with a door that leads to a back porch. That glass door is shattered now, with a man dressed in dark clothing reaching for Daphne as she attempts to scurry out of his reach.

He has her by the back of her dress.

“Daphne!”

Rushing forward, elbows forward, I plow into the side of the stranger as hard as I can. With an umph, he veers sideways. Daphne’s dress slips from his grasp.

Daphne and I rush to stand together, holding each other’s arms.

As he recovers he starts to reach for her again.

“The police are on their way!” I bluff. It seems to convince him, because his eyes go wide before he turns and darts away.

He disappears through the broken back door, then hops over the fence in the yard.

Looking at Daphne, I say at once, “We should call the police.”

“It won’t matter,” Daphne says, shaking her head.

“What are you talking about? That guy tried to—”

“I know what happened, Esther, and I’m telling you the police won’t be able to do anything about it.” Daphne removes her hands from my arms to wrap them around herself instead. “I want to go somewhere else. Somewhere safe. Please.”

“Not the police department?” I ask.

She gives me a cold look.

Thinking, I don’t really have many places I can take her, at least not where we would be publically noticed. Daphne likely doesn’t want that kind of attention at the moment.

The only place I can bring her then, is my own home. I know it’s safe. Miles has it guarded like a fortress. Daphne’s arrival might make the security guards confused, but… perhaps not. They are professionals after all. Our personal lives don’t seem to concern them overmuch. They only seem to care about our safety.

I lead Daphne back to my car and then drive her to my house. She is quiet the entire way. Glancing over at her, I wonder if she is in shock. Her face is pale, her eyes wide and frightened.

I hadn’t seen her this scared and vulnerable since we were children.

Once we are at my house, I lead her through the front door and toward the den. There, I have her sit on the couch while I go and get some blankets. Once she’s safely wrapped up like a blanket burrito, I head into the kitchen to fix her a cup of hot tea.

When I return, and after she’s sipped at the tea some, she seems a bit more put together.

“You didn’t want to go to the police,” I say. “Which makes me believe you know this man.”

I don’t want to call Daphne out for anything, necessarily, but I think it’s important for both our safeties if she is straightforward with me now. She is sitting in my living room after all, after being attacked in her own home.

“I do know him,” Daphne says, her voice very soft in the quiet room. “He was supposed to be my bodyguard. Someone that Edward hired to keep me safe.” She sighs. “That lasted only for as long as Edward was in the house. As soon as he left, the man turned on me.”

Knowing this is hard for Daphne, I try to press forward gently. “Do you think… Was he trying to kill you?”

“Kill me? Maybe. Or take me somewhere to make me disappear. The bruises have been getting harder to hide…” Daphne lowers her head, yet it does little to hide the deepening bruise on her cheekbone.

“He’s been getting bolder,” I say.

“More angry,” Daphne replies. “And I’m the one closest to him, so I’m the one who feels his wrath.”

“I’m sorry,” I say.

She shakes her head. “I’ve always known that it might someday lead to this. For a long time, he just left me alone to my own devices. For years, I knew a world of peace. This campaign has changed everything…”

“You’ve always deserved better than to be with your abuser, Daphne.”

“Maybe,” she admits. “But you don’t understand what it was like after you were gone. I didn’t have any choices. I did what I needed to do to survive.”

I nod, understanding. Never judging.

“You are older now. I can help you find a job. We can move you somewhere he’ll never find you. You can start over…”

“There’s nowhere in the world that I’ll be safe if he becomes president,” Daphne says.

“We’re going to stop him. Miles and I. It won’t come to that.”

I pause. The time to ask what I need to ask has arrived, but I’m not sure how to do so without hurting her. I don’t want to hurt Daphne. But we need her help.

“You can help,” I tell her.

“I can?” She seems skeptical.

“It’s something we can do together,” I say. “You and I.”

Realization flashes across her face. “You want to come forward with the truth about what happened to us. Didn’t I already tell you no?”

“That was before he tried to kill you,” I said. “Things are different now.”

“Are they?” Daphne asks, a twinge of fear in her voice.

That fear breaks my heart. “We don’t need to talk about this right now. Why don’t you rest? Would you like to stay in one of the spare rooms?”

“I want to be here,” Daphne says. She stares, unblinking, at the turned-off television.

I had thought about going back to work, but realized that was impossible now. Daphne needed me right here, so right here was where I will stay.

She might be the wife of my enemy, but she was a friend long before any of that.

“I have to make a phone call,” I tell her. “I’ll be right back.”

After she nods, I pick up my phone and head into the kitchen. Immediately, I call Miles.

“Esther. They said you’d be late today. Are you sick?”

“No…” I say, then tell him the truth.

When I’m finished, he curses under his breath. “Hold on. I’ll be right there.”

“Wait, Miles!” I say, but he’s already hung up.