The Tyrant's Trophy

Maybell

Here’s my plan: Find something good about my bodyguard. Chad Sawyer wasn’t as scary as I initially thought. I still don’t feel comfortable with the man but yesterday didn’t end badly. When I offered the meal, I thought he would throw it in my face and slam the door.

When he didn’t do that, I thought he would interrogate me about my husband but he didn’t do that either.

He let me ask questions and we found ourselves having somewhat of a conversation. I remembered my dad when He told me he was an ex-Navy. My dad served in the military as well. Ironically he too was a stiff neck, but also sweet.

My pop was the sweetest man in all of South Carolina!

It made me sad when he left mom and me.

Made me sadder when he died.

“If he was sweet but looked like a pit bull, then it’s the same as Chad.” If I can find something good about the man each day, maybe I won’t be scared of him. It would put my mind at ease…hopefully.

The first thing I can say about the man is that he saved my life. He stopped me from being kidnapped.

I didn’t tell Abijah what almost happened. I was afraid she would blame Chad. She didn’t like him or his boss but she said they were the best.

I was still crossed with her for blackmailing me into staying with her and Basil, but the anger faded a bit. At this point, I’m a goner once Phil finds me. He makes that clear with the messages he leaves me. Though Abijah confiscated my phone, I can still hear the voicemails Phil leaves. She checks them when she believes I’m sleeping.

The things Phil says aren’t anything new, but it hurts to know how little he cares for me. I could be lying in a ditch somewhere or the kidnapping could have been successful and yet, Phil wouldn’t give a toot about me. He would always be concerned about himself.

His laundry; his meals; his work; his looks.

Him. Him. HIM!

It will always be about him.

I hate Phil.

Yet I loved him all the same.

I scrubbed the tub, annoyed with myself. I had cleaned the entire place and now there was nothing to do! I had the idea to just break something or create one giant mess so I could have something to clean around here! I can’t stand being alone with my thoughts…I can’t stand this war inside of me.

I wish something would happen.

As if God heard my prayers, a knock brought me out of my insanity. After what happened, I didn’t want to open the door blindly again, so I checked the peephole.

It was Chad.

“Morning?” I didn’t open the door. “Did you need something?” I brought the container back yesterday and I had nothing to forget in his place. Could he want to talk about Phil, now?

The thought made me cringe.

“Morning? It’s 12 pm. Join me for brunch?”

“12!” That can’t be true. It didn’t feel like the afternoon. How long did I spend cleaning? The time on the oven told me Chad was right: it was the afternoon. “I’ve been up since six.”

“Excuse me?”

“N-nothing!”

“So, brunch?” I looked at myself. I wore baggy joggers and Abijah’s tank top she lent me to sleep in. I was the definition of a hot mess.

The hermit in me cried ‘NO!’ and to remain in the apartment until pigs flew, but I made a commitment. I had to get over my fear of this man - any man, really. So I pushed myself out of my comfort zone. “Can you wait one moment?”

“Sure.” Quickly, I changed into some jeans and a T-shirt. Next was the hard part: Makeup.

When he asked me to join him, I thought it would be in his apartment again, but no. What Chad had in mind was a restaurant. “Is this safe?” I asked, uncomfortable with the thought of leaving the condos completely. What if Phil was out and happened to see me - with a guy no less? “I can cook something instead…”

I couldn’t help the urge to look around, as if my husband would jump out at any moment. “We need air.” Chad opened the door of his car for me and waited for me to get in. When I did, he shut it and proceeded to the other side, then we were off.

Chad was dressed simply too, today.

Casual Navy T-shirt and black jeans.

What stood out today was the hat he wore. It was old and army patterned, slightly faded, with slight strands sticking out. It looked like the kind grandparents wore: to shield them from the sun’s rays. That or a lifeguard’s hat.

It suited him.

“What do you feel like having?”

“You can pick.” Truth was, hunger wasn’t something I’m used to anymore. After the loss of my baby, I found it hard to eat, much less have an appetite. “Besides, I don’t have money to pay you back.”

“In that case, I know a place.”

We came to a hotel: a fancy one. The kind that looks like they serve kings and aristocrats. We parked and went in. The place was more beautiful than the outside and I found myself feeling rather ashamed walking in there. It’s obvious how underdressed I am; it made me wish I would have said Mcdanolds or something.

Chad took my hand and led me to a restaurant inside the hotel. A man attended to us the second we stepped foot in the place. “Good to see you, Chad.” The man led us to a booth and gave us menus and left.

“The food here is great.” Chad offered a little smile but I couldn’t bring myself to return it. There are too many windows here and too many eyes. The possibilities of Phil finding me had heightened and what would he say?

Would he just come up and hit me?

No, he’s too smart to do that in front of an audience.

He’ll walk in and talk his way through any obstacles and plant doubts into others’ minds about me. Then Chad will believe him: that I’m snotty, greedy, a mentally insane person who belongs in a psychiatric ward. Then he’ll drive me back home and slowly kill me and make it look like a suicide.

Instinctively, I grabbed my wrist: the left one with the ugly scars and burns. He would get away with it too. He always does.

I blinked, feeling something land on my head. I touched the intrusive thing: It was Chad’s hat. “With the hat, your face can’t be seen.” Gingerly, Chad picked up the menu and suggested the house pancakes. “They’re fluffy and will add anything you’ll like on them.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off the man. He was…odd. So odd and different than Phil. They both held cold looks, aloof towards me, but Chad’s actions were far different from my husband's. “Why do you do that?”

Chad didn’t look up. “Because you’re scared. We’re getting pancakes.” The waiter came back and he took the orders. Once out of earshot, Chad asked a question of his own. “Do you ever get tired of being afraid of your husband?”

I tensed up.

“It’s obvious you’re scared of him. The moment we left the condo, you kept looking around like he was just going to show up and drag you away.” We were served coffee. “If he’s your husband, then why do you fear him?”

I couldn’t come up with a lie. “Why shouldn’t I be afraid of him?” I clenched my hands together. “He’s my husband. He’s well respected and charismatic; people praise him for his work and he’s the ‘defender for battered wives.’ He showed me over and over why people would choose him over me.” The confession made me dizzy. Now, what I felt was overwhelmingly tired.

Our food arrived.

“Why didn’t you leave him?” It was an innocent question.

Divorce was something I researched. I had saved money, too, to pay the fee - Phil destroyed any hope of that. “I tried leaving him once - it didn’t end well and so will this.”

“What makes you think that?” Somehow, I found the strength to look Chad in the eyes. He wasn’t mocking me or giving me that cold stare anymore. His brows were furrowed, perplexed. “What if I tell you that this time, it’ll be different?”

I shrugged. “You can’t promise what you don’t know.”

Chad leaned over and cut a piece of pancake from my plate. “But I can promise you. My boss is working on your case, personally, and trust me, he’s not going to rest until you’re free from your husband. And I personally promise to protect you until that man pays for every blow he gave you.” Chad held up the piece of food to my lips. “Your cooperation will help us a lot with this, too.”

Chad was so earnest as he said those things but one thing remained: What will I do without Phil? It’s stupid of me to think, I know, but there’s still a part of me that wanted to cling to Phil. He’s all I know. He was my first love and it’s crazy but my mind fought with itself to turn him in or continue the path I walked now.

I hated Phil, but I still loved him too.

“I can’t see life without him.” These feelings made me insane. “I don’t have anything without Phil. If he’s gone, what will I do?” With Phil gone, I’ll truly be alone in the world. My Ma is in South Carolina and I have no money to go back home.

“Try this,” Chad had not moved the food. He moved closer to me. “Imagine life without Phil. Imagine the things you can do or have wanted to do and try them.” Softly, he pressed the food to my lips again and I opened up. I chewed slowly, hardly believing my ears.

A life without Phil?

Could such a life exist?

“What if you’re wrong?” I swallowed the food down. “What if you change your mind? Phil’s smart.”

Chad didn’t skip a beat. “Then let’s make a deal.” He touched the tip of the hat he placed on me. “This was my grandfather’s hat from when he was in the army. He passed it down to my dad and my dad passed it down to me. It’s special - priceless in my family. Hold onto it for me. If I break my promise to protect you and get you away from Phil, then I will personally burn this hat and quit my job. This I swear.”