John

KiKi’s head leans heavily on my shoulder as we ride in the back seat of Patterson’s vehicle on the way to Hartford. 

I cradle her tightly against my side, while inside, I scream in rage-inside, I weep for her pain.

Hearing her traumatic story wasn’t a surprise. I assumed he’d assaulted Kristen, yet the words still slapped me in the face. While I love the woman she’s become, I mourn the woman she was.

“Hey,” KiKi whispers.

I turn my gaze from ...