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Chapter 7

“His name was Clive,” she lied. “We were together for thirteen years before I finally found the courage to leave him.”

“Thirteen years,” he commented. “Bad luck?”

She chuffed. If only he knew. “Let’s just say he was a controlling man and leaving him was akin to stepping in front of a charging locomotive. I had tried several times in the past. When he found me, he did his best to ensure I would never leave him again.” She rubbed her arms as memories of his strikes caused phantom pain.

“He is the reason you won’t get involved with anyone else?”

“Yes.”

She heard him set his glass down and settle back against the couch. The bourbon flowed down her throat like a comforting blanket. For a moment, Z seemed satisfied with her answer and she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Have you heard from him?”

“Not for seven years.” She choked a bit, fearing she had revealed too much of the truth. “Maybe nine,” she added.

“What does Clive do for a living?”

She stopped mid drink. “He’s an … insurance a
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