My Fake Death Was The Punchline To His Cruel Joke Chapter 13
“Back?” I said, my voice sharp. “Do you have any idea how many hours of therapy it took for me to believe I wasn’t a joke? That my life wasn’t something to be tested and scored?”
I took out my phone, forwarded the audio I’d been recording and the front-door security footage to Leo, and then, right in front of Bennett, I dialed 911.
“Bennett, you belong in prison.”
His eyes went wide with panic, and his knees hit the floor with a sickening thud.
“Mara, please, just give me one more chance. Just one.”
He reached for the hem of my pants like a stray dog, and I recoiled in disgust.
“Don’t you touch me, you stalker.”
The elevator doors opened.
Leo stepped out, flanked by two police officers and a woman in a sharp suit. The officers approached Bennett, served him with a temporary restraining order, and warned him not to approach, harass, or contact me in any way.
The woman showed me her credentials.
“Rhode Island Attorney General’s Office. Ms. Ortiz, we need you to testify as a key witness in the intentional assault case against Camille Mercer.”
All the blood drained from Bennett’s face.
“You’re going to destroy me, too?” he pleaded, still on his knees. “I’ll testify. I’ll plead guilty. Anything. Please… just forgive me…”
The officers moved to block him.
“Mr. Shaw, one more step and you’ll be in violation of this order.”
“Forgive you?”
I looked down at the pathetic man on the floor.
“First, you can pay your debt in a court of law. Then we can talk about forgiveness.”
With Leo and the prosecutor at my side, I stepped into the elevator. Just before the doors closed, I saw Bennett lunge forward again, only to be tackled to the ground by the police, screaming my name in despair.
No one believed him. No one listened.
He looked a lot like I had, eighteen months ago.