Her Savior

I've shot him.

I've killed a man.

I'm a murderer.

Her mind traveled to her dead husband, and how she had killed him.

She was only twenty-three, she had married her abusive husband right out of college.

He was a wealthy man who runs a very successful venture. He was ruthless in his business, people feared and admired him at the same time. She knows nobody would believe her if she came forward with her accusations.

The worst part was that she had been abused even before the marriage. She was in love with him, as also her husband who would confess to her after every time he ridicules and beats her up.

These instances would happen once and maybe two times every couple of months. But her love for him vanished the day he made her lost their baby. That was the last straw. She was a broken woman, like many other women in an abusive marriage.

The dreadful day came when Benjamin came back home drunk and beat her up badly.

"Bitch! don't tell me what to do!"

She whimpered as he slaps her in the face so hard that she falls, yet he was not satisfied when he continues to kick her while she shields herself with her arms.

That was the time she decided that she have had enough. She was struggling to walk but she was finally able to get the gun which she has been hiding for months but didn't dare to use it. The gun which she bought with a cash payment couple of days after she had lost their baby.

He was sleeping, sprawled on their marital bed. She did not hesitate when she finally pulled the trigger and put a bullet to his brain. Then moments after that she left the house and walked her wounded self until she couldn't take it anymore and fainted on the sidewalk.

That night she was was brought into a hospital. She was ushered in with a gurney carried by the EMTs, then hurriedly received by the hospital emergency staff.

She was unconscious. Her body was bruised and battered, her clothes were smeared with brownish color of dirt and blood. There were traces of tears mixed with dirt on her cheeks. She looked pale and lifeless.

Doctors and nurses were busy reviving her body. There were shouted instructions, and more procedural was done down at the emergency room before she was hauled up to a recovery room.

"Has the husband brought in for questioning?"

"God. Are you sure this is domestic abuse? She looked so young."

"You know we got these cases several times a year, and the cops are putting them on the back burner after all their homicide cases...we should do our best with the evidence."

"These women, I don't get why they waited so long, why they stick around..."

The nurses were whispering, talking after they got back assisting the doctors at the emergency room. They were bagging and labeling all of her belongings, tagging them to her possession. Another was scribbling her status on her already thick hospital files.

She was indeed a regular at that exact hospital, she had been seen by many doctors and advised by several counselors. But all couldn't do anything further as she had denied and refused all suggestions after all of those emergency visits.

But in the past year, she had been coming to the hospital more frequently. And one of the doctors had been checking with other surrounding hospitals. That same doctor found out that she had visited different hospitals within months, sometimes just weeks apart.

The doctor would inform her findings to her counselor. Once a police officer was brought into the meeting for assurance, but then she sobbed and trembled and they had to put her under sedation.

She didn't recollect her memory, until the next day when she finally wakes up conscious at the clean hospital bed.

"Hey, you're up. Let me get the doctor for you." An older woman in a nurse uniform said softly at her.

She was looking around her room, her brain was busy remembering how she gets there. Up until she remembered about the night she shoots her abusive husband in the head when he was passed out drunk on their bed.

"Good day... Jane, I'm Dr. Rebecca Nelson." The young intern doctor was flipping her chart. Knowing that her patient was the abused Jane Doe that she has been keeping her eyes on for the last couple of months.

"How are you feeling today?" she asked softly while taking her vitals. The kind doctor looked at her, knowing that it was her worst injury ever and that was making her worry.

"Good...I think I'm good to get back home today." The still pale-looking woman answered, with her croaked voice.

"Jane, we've met less than a month ago. I know a great shelter place...."

"No..." she said, after sipping the water which the nurse on her side offered earlier.

"I'm good, I just need my clothes and shoes..."

"Well, it's currently in our deposit counter, but nurse Murphy here will get some clean clothes that you can wear. But I still need to observe you for another day. Jane, please reconsider my offer?" the nice doctor patted her hand, trying to reassure her to take her advice.

"I'll think about it."

It wasn't the answer that she was wanting, but she was still glad that Jane didn't say no. She will have another go in persuading her tomorrow. Maybe even get another police officer, perhaps a woman this time.

But the next day she was gone from the hospital after she could make herself stand up and tried walking around in her room. That early morning she left the hospital before the nurses do their morning rounds. She was cold but kept on walking and pushing through the cold morning air until she arrived at the nearest bus station.

Finally.

She sighed and quickly walked into the terminal. People would look at her battered face but were being their normal human self, as they ignored her and carry on with their activities.

She went straight to the women's bathroom and went to the second stall from the left. She reached for the little space just behind the toilet. She was scrunching her nose and holding her breath from the odor while feeling for the key that she taped there. It was a relief when she finds it, then she quickly retreated with the key and rest her ass on the closed toilet seat. She was trying to get her strength back before she goes to the station's public locker area.

She could feel her body ache all over, her left arm was bind and was in a cast. The doctor said they had to put a pin inside since she was still healing from the previous injury. They were making sure that it would heal nicely, and that she would not injure that same arm easily. The doctor also said that she should get back for a check-up next month.

She had done her research, she had been preparing herself to be on the run. She had been scheming her allowance and putting her cash, and personal belongings in a duffle bag and put them in public lockers at several bus terminals and train stations. She was doing it gradually, as she was doing her daily errands outside the house. She was trying not to evoked her husband's suspicion.

She had also bought a used car and told the shady dealer to keep it under someone else's name, which then she paid extra for. She had been preparing for months until that night finally came and her life was abruptly turned for the worse.

She was on the run.

She was homeless.

She was all alone.

"Detective Taylor, meet me in my office." His captain called in his golden boy, his best crime-solving detective Ian Taylor to his office.

Ian walked with his cup of coffee in one hand and his stacks of unsolved cases in the other.

"How's your workload?"

"I'm done with one case got two more ongoing, one of the family is hiding something while the other seems to have overlapping alibis. Do you want me to focus on a case?"

His captain would do this sometimes. He would need Ian's full attention on a certain case if the heat of the media was too close to their tail.

"No, just handle it as is. The mayor wanted me to add more female detectives for our public appearance. I'm thinking we get Garcia on board. What do you think?"

What the captain didn't know was that he had been casually sleeping with the female officer. In fact, he had a hot date with her that exact night.

"I think you will make the best decision as always." He nodded to him and calmly sipped his coffee, he would never lie to his captain.

Dave looked at him and nodded back to his answer. They discussed the case and talk for a couple of minutes then he was dismissed and dive back into his workload until it was time for him to question the suspects.

Ian Taylor was one of the detectives who was having difficulties in working with others. He would do a better job on his own and has been doing it for more than four years since he lost his partner to a gang fight.

He was a special case, his captain allowed him to do so after trying to partner him up several times and failed miserably.

That afternoon Ian was feeling good about the hours ahead knowing he was going to end his day by going to Garcia's place for their sexy hookups. He wouldn't tell her about his talk with the captain. He would let Dave break the news to her when he deemed necessary.

"Hey, how's work?" Garcia opened her door and greeted him sweetly.

"Can we cut the chitchat? I've been doing work desk all day, now I need to do you." Ian pulled her roughly to his body and crushed his lips with hers. He closed the door and locked them both inside her apartment.

She moaned to his kisses and let him push her body against the wall. Her hands were to his chest and quickly unbutton his shirt, then she kissed him back when her hands touched his hard abs.

"Hands up officer." He whispered sexily in her ear.

She chuckled but then quickly bit her lip and put her hands above her head and let Ian roamed his hands freely after he stripped her naked.

He groaned as he feels her wetness then moved her to the couch and let her watch as he stripped naked and cover his length with a condom.

He was on top of her in seconds and thrust inside her, filling her and make her moaned louder.

"Ian! more baby... oh God..."

He holds her still and lets his sexual frustration out. He fuck her hard until she shuddered and they both climax moments later.

"Damn...I needed that." He breathed out his words.

Garcia laid back in content while she kissed his chest and then both relax on her couch for a couple of minutes until they move to her bed.

That night he fuck her again one more time before he left her sleeping just after midnight.

Ian sighed and rest his head back on the driver's seat. His thoughts were back to his unsolved cases and put the car in gear and drive into the night back to his large empty house.

He was naked to his briefs when lay back on the bed. Ian is a thirty-five years old single man who was building his career. He had a very skeptical view of life and was certain that he didn't want a woman to hold down his career.

He is a homicide detective who had seen people at their worst. People who would kill to get what they want, who were greedy and clouded by their survival instinct to diminish others who would cross their path. Then some people were just plain sociopaths and needed to kill for their sick pleasure.

That night just like some nights he was restless and couldn't get to sleep. He was thinking of the little girl who had lost her parents to a robbery gone bad.

The little girl would go to childcare tomorrow because her uncle had just confessed to murdering her parents for monetary gains. He had told Ian that he staged the robbery to get their money because he was deep in debt since he was unemployed and been doing drugs and got involved with some bad people.

He drinks his malt and dragged his cigarette trying to calm himself down. Then he turned on the news trying to dilute his thoughts. He sipped on his malt slowly while looking out his window at the dark night sky.

He could hear in the background the news anchor was talking about a wealthy businessman who was shot in his own house and that his wife was missing.

Ian shook his head and took another drag of his cigarette thinking about the crazy world he was living in. He kept on thinking about how people could do such a thing to their closest ones, their loved ones.

His mind then wonders back to his biological parents until he finally gave up and put out his cigarette and drink down his malt.

He turned off his tv and went back to bed. He didn't sleep well, but at least he had let out his sexual frustration and closed one case that day.

One small step at a time, he thought as he closes his eyes and imagine what would it feels like to live in a world where people actually care for each other.

He sighed as he slowly drifted off to sleep just before dawn.

"I need to get out of the state, I need to find a place to live. I need to...oh God! I fucking killed my husband." She said to herself in frustration while taking another sip of the cheap beer which she bought earlier from the small store just around the corner.

She was pacing back and forth at the sleazy motel that she rented for the night. She had taken her duffle bag, and retrieved her money from the public locker. She took off her oversize denim jacket and boots and put her cap on the bedside table. Then seconds later groaned in pain, and finally, let herself took the pills for the pain.

Years of having beaten had made her resistant to the pain, she had managed to carry the bag and put on her disguise while her arm was still in a cast. Her determination was bigger than the pain itself.

Earlier she was looking for the nearest convenience store when she finds herself in a small diner. She ordered herself a steaming hot cup of coffee and pie of the day. The waiter glanced at her cast and her battered face, yet she said nothing. Not realizing that she was hungry, she eats and finishes her meal quickly before she continued with her plan.

That was two hours ago, now she had finish dying her hair to the darkest brown color. It was a very streak difference from her previous light blonde color hair. Then she puts on the dark brown color contacts, she looked at the finished result and was satisfied with the result.

Minutes later she was flipping the TV channel searching for the news, and there it was. The murder of a well-known businessman Benjamin Turner. His body was found yesterday, the news anchor stated that he was murdered. And his wife was presumed missing and had become a person of interest since there were no signs of forced entry.

That was when reality hits, and she finally breakdown and cry. The tears that she shed earlier were nothing compare to that exact moment where she was alone, with complete privacy to sob and feel sorry for her miserable doomed life.

She was crying for her future self, a wanted person, wanted for the murder of her abusive husband.

There were days where she would try to end her life, but she just couldn't. Deep down she knows that all was not her fault and that she was the victim. That her love for him was making her defend him to every beating which she ever received.

That night she finally closed her eyes with the news on a low volume, she was truly tired from all the thinking and all the crying.

The next day she struggled to get herself out of bed, she groaned quietly from the pain. Not remembering that she was in another bed alone, without her abusive husband who would slap her when she made a noise showing off her pain.

She took a deep breath and exhale trying to strengthen herself to start her day. Months before, she had dreamt the day she would be free of her abusive marriage. But when the time came, she was afraid that she might lose her self-confidence to be independent and face the world alone.

Half an hour later she was finally out the door, she had put her makeup on to disguise her bruises and put her hair down to cover her bruised neck and shoulder. Her sunglasses were large enough to give extra protection to her identity.

That day she had spent meticulously executing her plan, where she took her getaway car from the monthly paid parking lot, and carry on to several other public lockers which she hides her bags full of her cash and essentials.

It was just after dinner time when she crossed the state country lines. She had chosen this town randomly when she had to browse for her getaway destination months before. It was the average city setting where she thinks she could handle it.

She didn't want to move to a small city where neighbors would talk. She needed her privacy, and a medium-size city seemed best.

But little did she know, that exact city was where she loses it all.

It happened the same day she arrived in that city, just after she had her dinner. She couldn't find her car at the parking lot, where she had locked it and leave it to unwind and let herself have a decent meal for the day.

Her mind was frantic, she was cursing herself for having the wants to unwind. Seconds later she was taking a taxi to the motel, knowing she had her receipt and motel key in the car. But then she slumped when she looked at her trashed motel room.

Her clothes were scattered and all her cash was gone. With less than a hundred dollars in her pocket, she closed her room door slowly, as she suddenly lost the strength to even get mad when she was once again got the short end of the stick.

An hour later, she falls asleep on the bed hoping that she would still be able to sleep in one tomorrow night.

That night was the first night where she had her nightmare. With all her insecurities creeping up behind her, she was taken back to the many nights when Benjamin would abuse her.

Flashes of images were presented to her, of how he beat her, slap her, and one day he even pushed her a couple of stairs down just because he said she was blocking his path. She had broken more bones that year and was convinced that he would eventually kill her if she didn't kill him first.

This is too hard, maybe I should just let him kill me. Maybe he was right, maybe I was just a whore for his money.

Her thoughts were always diluted by his words, even in her dreams, he could still robbed her of her value.

She woke up early morning with her body drenched in sweat, her cheeks were wet with fresh tears. She was holding her naked knees which were still visibly bruised from his last beatings.

I don't think I can do this. I don't think I'm strong enough. Maybe he's right.

The words keep on playing in her mind until she woke up late that afternoon with the ringing sound of her motel phone informing her that check-out time was in another hour.

This is it your shitty days have just begun. This is the first day you're homeless.

Even in his absence he kept on haunting her, tormenting her, ridiculed her mind to diminished her self-worth.