Page 67 of Until Joy

“When I got to the front door, it was locked. I could feel him coming up the stairs behind me. I pounded on the door, and it still didn’t open,” she said. “It just didn’t open,” she whispered.

“You’re here in Tennessee, baby. I’ve got you.”

“He yelled that I was the wrong choice.”

Joy hadn’t heard me. She was lost in her story.

“He said it over and over again. He said I wasn’t worthy. I tried to pound on the door again, but he had me pressed against it, so I couldn’t move. I could smell his breath. It was sour. He told me I had to die. He lifted the knife. He was aiming for my heart. I didn’t want him to stab me in the front, so I jerked hard. He was only holding me by one hand, and I managed to shove my face against the door.”

Rage like I’d never felt before roared through me. I could picture a younger Joy, in the hands of a madman with a knife, begging for help, nowhere to go. If I ever got my hands on this motherfucker, I’d kill him. I’d rip him apart.

She stopped talking. “Graham?” she said hesitantly. “Are you all right?”

Fuck, I needed to mask my feelings. I took a deep breath, then gave her a gentle smile.

“Then what?” I prompted.

“I felt the knife tear into me as the door opened. I fell inside onto the marble floor. Mrs. Smythe said I cracked my head hard against the floor. I remember nothing after that until I woke up in the hospital.”

“Jesus, Joy. Was it Mrs. Smythe who opened the door? Did the attacker come into the house?”

Joy shook her head, her hair flying around her face.

“She saw my attacker but he was already running away so she couldn’t describe him. But I saw him. She finally believed me. She was waiting in my hospital room when I woke up. She begged me to forgive her for ever doubting me. She stayed with me a lot of the time I was in the hospital. She was really nice.”

“Bullshit. There wasn’t anything nice about that at all. She was covering her own ass. How bad were you hurt?”

“The knife didn’t go too deep. My ribcage stopped it.”

“Fuck,” I whispered.

“Between that and the concussion, I had to stay in the hospital for three days.” She looked at me with a little grin. “They call it ‘in hospital’, not in the hospital. It’s kind of weird.”

“Yeah sure,” gritted out. “What did your parents say when they got there?”

She looked down and played with the hem of my shirt.

“Joy?”

“When I woke up, I had a terrible headache. I was really out of it. I was confused and the police were there. Mrs. Smythe was there and she was so nice. When I talked about calling my family, she said how upset they would be. She asked me if I really wanted to worry them over something that was already done, especially since my contract wasn’t done”

“That manipulative bitch!”

“Looking back on things, I can tell she was just looking out for herself. Her husband was a big time barrister. That’s a⁠—”

“I know, a lawyer,” I interrupted her. “And he knew the kind of lawsuit you could file against him.”

Joy shrugged. “It was all right. By the time I got back to their house, they had a special alarm system and a bodyguard for when I went outside with the children.”

“What did your family say when you came home and told them about it?” I asked.

“I never told them.”

“How could you not tell them?” I demanded to know.

She looked up at me. “Look at how you’re reacting, and this whole thing happened years ago. My family would have gone batshit crazy, and there wasn’t a damn thing they could have done. Trust me, my way was best.”

She must have noticed the look on my face, because she winced. “I still stand by my decision.”