You're Still Mine

By Lise Guilbault

When abuse victim Meg learns that her ex-husband is being released from prison, she runs. To stay would be to sign her own death warrant. Meg starts her life anew in Elmsmere, Virginia where she meets Cam, a handsome, successful horse breeder. Their mutual attraction grows into a caring, loving relationship, but just as she begins to believe she might have a chance at happiness, Meg hears from the one person whose plans for her have nothing to do with happy ever after.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lise Guilbault
• Release date: Mar 2, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311247650

Lise Guilbault

Lise Guilbault was born in Ottawa, Ontario Canada. She and her husband of 41 years have one daughter and two lovely granddaughters. Since retiring, Lise has published four novels, and is currently working on another exciting romantic suspense/thriller. When she is not writing, Lise enjoys painting, sewing and gardening. She and her husband also share a love of travel. Lise currently resides in Mississippi Station, Ontario Canada.

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

To Marc, who loves me

even when I'm not

hearing him because I'm

too busy creating imaginary

worlds, I love you!

To my supporters

- you know who you are -

thank you!

This would not be

possible without you.

"No one can make you feel

inferior without your consent."

(Eleanor Roosevelt)

PROLOGUE

This couldn't be happening! She'd been assured by the Courts that he would serve a minimum five years, yet here he was walking the streets - or soon would be - following a paltry three and a half years in federal prison!

On the very day he was found guilty by a jury of his peers, Meg had registered with SAVIN, the Statewide Automated Victim Information and Notification program, hence the automated message which had greeted her this morning informing her that her ex-husband, the man who'd nearly taken her life, the man who'd instilled in her a fear of men in general, was to

be released this coming Monday.

In her estimation, she had three days to come up with a solid plan to get herself away from this town, away from him if she had any hope of saving herself. Meg wasn't one prone to exaggeration in general, and definitely not when it came to her fear of Rob. She knew with absolute certainty that immediately upon his release, Rob would be on her like a dog with a bone. Only this time, he'd be sure to finish the job. Unable to come up with a quick solution, Meg needed to think, and think fast! She decided to come at this systematically.

First things first. Money. She had $2,500 in savings and another $1,100 in her chequing account. Of course, if she left town immediately, it would mean skipping this month's mortgage payment, but what did it matter? Rob would likely claim the house as his anyway. Laws and injunctions were of no consequence to an animal like him. He was a law unto himself and defied anyone to say differently.

Meg had married Rob when she was twenty-five. He was a couple years older than her and had impressed Meg with his worldly maturity. He'd often boasted of his travels and street-wise education, and Meg had taken in every word. What he'd failed to tell her, however, was that none of it was true. In fact, he'd never stepped foot outside the State of New York in his entire life. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to her, his secrets would not come to light for a very long time. If only they had.

They'd honeymooned in Niagara Falls - the Canadian side - as they'd both wanted to see the Horseshoe Falls. It hadn't been a long trip, considering they lived in Rochester, New York, but it was nonetheless exciting for a woman as sheltered as Meg had been.

What a great time they'd had. Rob seemed to be trying to make all her honeymoon dreams come true. He'd wined and dined her, albeit at moderately-priced restaurants, bought her a delicate necklace with a heart-shaped pendant,

and even waltzed her down Clifton Hill, attracting stares and smiles from onlookers.

They'd had so much fun and had laughed so hard, they'd had to stop to rest in order catch their breath.

But as the saying goes, all good things come to an end. Meg's dream honeymoon had ended with a bang practically the moment they'd stepped foot in their rented one-bedroom apartment upon their return from Niagara Falls.

Rob had appeared to undergo a personality transformation before her very eyes. Within the first week, he'd shed his good-guy persona and had felt the need to outline for Meg certain ground rules she would be required to adhere to. First off - and according to him, most important - was his need to establish that he was the head of the household. His kingdom would not be a democracy and she needed to accept this as fact, without question or debate.

He wasn't a total ogre, however. He informed her that he'd allow Meg to decide on what meals she would serve him, the one caveat being that she must only serve foods his mama

had fed him when he was growing up. It was also imperative that dinner be on the table, ready to eat, no later than six o'clock on weekdays and six-thirty on weekends. His breakfast would be scrambled eggs or porridge on cold days, and toast or cereal on warmer days.

Although Meg worked full-time - and made good money - as an administrative assistant for a local insurance company, she was not entitled to a penny of her salary unless it was disbursed by Rob. Her salary was deposited directly into a joint bank account, yet Meg was expressly forbidden from withdrawing a penny of it. Rob reasoned they'd be in a better position to purchase a home sooner if they went without for a few years. What he'd failed to specify was that she would go without, and he would not.

Makeup was not up for discussion. Rob's mama had never worn it and no wife of his would be allowed out in public looking like a

cheap tramp.

Meg was not allowed to grow her hair too long or she would look like a Jezebel. Her clothes had to be modestly styled, selected by him, with only skirts below the knee and blouses with round necklines permissible.

As to Meg's friends, they had eventually become a thing of the past. Oh, Rob had allowed her to go out occasionally at first, but whenever she did go out with friends, he became so obsessed with where she'd gone and who she'd been with, Meg soon decided it wasn't worth the headaches that came with it. Of course, friendship is a two-way street and neglected friends will eventually move on and leave you behind. Sure enough, within a short period of time, Meg found herself very much alone, if not by herself. Her husband had become a stranger practically overnight and her friends had given up on her.

The abuse kind of crept up on her. She'd not seen it coming. It had been so subtle at first, she had at times thought him 'cute' for being so

detail-oriented, so concerned for her well being.

But then his behaviour had turned into something much more frightening, his need for total control all-consuming. The house had to be just so, at all times, and if company came over - of course, 'company' being his parents and sister - the menu was pre-approved by him and the food carefully inspected prior to serving. More than once, he'd thrown out a perfectly good pie because the meringue didn't look as 'fluffy' as his mama's.

Her tears were of no consequence. In his opinion, they were a sign of weakness and manipulation on her part. Meg tried never to let him see her tears as, more often than not, it would enrage him and he'd rant at her for hours on end.

The first time he struck her, she was in complete and utter shock. Such a thing was unheard of when she was growing up. Her father had been a gentle man who'd never raised his voice to her mother, let alone his hand. Her father had always said women were put on this earth to be loved and cherished, and

that a good man would never raise his hand in anger to a woman.

Her shock must have been apparent because Rob froze, as though he, himself, were appalled at his own behaviour. He'd come to her then and apologized profusely, claiming he didn't know what had come over him and suggested that perhaps she'd made him angrier than she usually did. He suggested that if she worked harder at not angering him in the future, he promised never to hit her again. That had been Rob's idea of a win-win situation.

Oh, Meg had tried to be good. Meals were always on time and ready to be served the minute he got home, his clothes were washed and pressed twice weekly, and not a speck of dirt could be found anywhere. But of course even angels can mess up once in a while, and Meg was no exception. On two occasions, she'd missed her bus and arrived home a half-hour late. Dinner wasn't ready when he got home, and there had been hell to pay. She was not trying hard enough, he'd said. Or she was intentionally trying to provoke him.

No matter how you sliced it, Meg was the one who'd messed up, missed bus, be damned.

The abuse intensified, the slaps were dolled out more frequently, and the pain and humiliation became unbearable. At one point, not knowing where to turn, feeling totally and utterly alone, Meg had called Rob's sister for advice and, if she were lucky, a measure of support. His sister's allegiance to her brother had been to Meg's detriment. She'd promptly informed Rob of his wife's lack of discretion, and Rob had felt it necessary to inform Meg of her lack of good judgement. In the end, when everyone had been duly informed, the only one sporting bruises was Meg. The icing on the cake was the broken arm her husband had thrown in for good measure.

Meg was not one to air her dirty laundry, but there came a time when she'd felt the need to notify police officials of the abuse she was suffering at the hands of her husband. They were sympathetic to her plight and, taking one good