Preyed Upon by a Predator: Beaten, Bruised and Saved

By Julee Kay

Author Julee Kay has hidden behind a mask her whole life. She avoided interactions with people so they couldnt see the real her. In Preyed Upon by a Predator, she shares her story and how she became involved in an abusive and toxic relationship with a convicted pedophile.

She narrates how she fell in love with the wrong man (offering intimate details of interactions with him), how it affected both her and her children, and how she finally cut herself loose from a bad situation. Preyed Upon by a Predator discusses how Kay has come to terms with her life, saved by her faith in God. She is no longer ashamed, holding her head high because she understands she is a work in progress, changing and growing every day.

Kay tells her story in this memoir to help others who may be facing the same situation. She communicates the message that its important to call on ones inner strength to overcome lifes challenges.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Feb 3, 2018
• ISBN: 9781532041068

Julee Kay

Julee Kay earned an associate degree and worked with people with disabilities for many years. She owns her own house cleaning business and is attending school to become a master aesthetician. Kay has four children, whom she raised as a single parent. She lives in Utah.

Book preview

1

The First Date

I stood in front of the mirror, trying to steady my nerves as I prepared to go to lunch. I could do this. How hard could it be to go on a date with a new guy while my soon-to-be-ex-husband sat in the other room? My fingers shook as I adjusted the V-neck of my white sweater. I deserved to be happy, right? After several failed marriages and many unsuccessful relationships, today I was determined to prove I wasn’t worthless.

It was winter, and despite how cold I knew it would be downtown, I still took the time to dress nicely and do my makeup. First impressions were important, and I took extra care to make sure I was flawless that January afternoon. I glanced at the computer on the bedside table, which had a browser open to the dating site I had been using lately for some human contact.

My gaze rested on the chat window where I had last talked to Blane, setting up our 1pm lunch at Little America. Each time I chatted with someone on Plenty of Fish, it helped me conquer some of my despair, and built a sturdy wall to avoid what I should be dealing with.

Sighing, I sat down and put on my black pumps. It was almost time to go. Then I heard the TV turn on in the living room, and I knew Joe was settling in to his favorite recliner. My heart broke a little further, new shards of guilt burying themselves in my chest. He meant so much to me; he was my best friend. But things were not working out. Joe was a lot older than me, and our families did not want us to be together no matter how hard we tried to prove them wrong.

Joe loves me for me, I thought, suddenly second-guessing my date all-together. He makes me feel alive and truly loved.

A memory hit me then, and I sat back down on the bed as my mind flashed back to the night Joe proposed. I didn’t know if it was my broken heart or my guilt conscience that brought it on, but suddenly I was in my car, stopped at a traffic light not far from my house. Joe sat next to me, and, without warning, he reached out and took one of my hands off the steering wheel.

Julee, he began, clasping my hand between his. I glanced over and saw he had a huge smile on his face and a sparkle in his eyes. I love you more than mere words can express. Will you marry me?

I could feel my heart stop, both in the memory and as I sat recalling it, ready for my date with another man. I had been shocked and surprised at the same time, unable to speak. The cars behind us at the stoplight started honking their horns as the bulb shifted to green and I just sat there, taking in what he had said. When I was with Joe, the rest of the world just went away.

I shook my head, bringing myself back to reality. My life with Joe was ending, and there was nothing I could do about it; his kids hated me and my kids didn’t like him, and we fought because of the way our families were tearing our relationship to pieces. We said horrible things we didn’t mean, and now here we were, at the end of it all. Once again, I failed at marriage, and had to start over.

Come on, Julee, I thought, trying to gain my former enthusiasm. You can do this. I stood up, gave my makeup one last check, and turned to face the door. I wasn’t going to be thrown away this time.

I arrived at the restaurant on time, admiring the red brick of the building that sat prettily along Main Street in downtown Salt Lake City. Standing outside the door, I glanced at the Grand America Hotel across the street, glowing in towering grey marble. The cars whizzed past the manicured grounds and inviting walkways. A pastel blue sky loomed above the flag on the building’s roof, with white clouds drifting serenely by.

When I looked to the restaurant where I would meet Blane, my stomach started cramping. Maybe the stress was finally hitting me full-force, but no matter how I tried to ignore it, the pain in my abdomen increased rapidly. Was my body trying to tell me something? Should I just go home and stop trying to meet with someone who could distract me from the divorce? I ignored my gut and went inside anyway.

Blane was already waiting for me. He greeted me with a large smile, and I saw he was missing a couple teeth on the lower right side of his mouth. He was 5’ 6", about 160 pounds, with short, brown hair, a thick mustache, and brown eyes. Those eyes were beautiful, and I thought they reminded me of someone else’s, which immediately drew me to him.

We were escorted to a table draped in white linen, and he pulled my chair out for me before sitting across from me. In the center of the table was a vase with a red rose and a splash of baby’s breath. I put the red linen napkin in my lap and glanced out the large window next to us. My stomach surged again in discomfort, and I placed my hand on it under the table, clutching at the spasm of pain as if I could make it stop.

Excuse me, I said to Blane when I could take it no longer, I’ve got to use the restroom.

The soft buzzing of different conversations ranged around me as I made my way to the bathroom. Waitresses and waiters scurried past to meet the needs of all the guests, and I shouldered my way across the room to avoid bumping into them. The cool bathroom offered an escape from the noises of the restaurant, and I sat down to try and catch my breath.

Just go away, I thought desperately. Ten minutes had passed, and I knew Blane was waiting patiently for me at our table. I decided I just had to tough through my discomfort and resolutely made my way back. Our waitress asked for our order, and Blane looked at me with his brown eyes, letting me go first. I ordered a BLT and water even though I wasn’t going to eat.

You know, Blane started when we were alone again, I picked this place because my grandfather helped build it.

I remembered that he mentioned being a contractor, and asked him to tell me more about his work. My hand reached toward my water glass, and I found that my grip was steady when I took a small sip. Maybe my stomach would feel better if I distracted myself with conversation. He was, after all, an interesting man; he made me laugh when we chatted online, and now that I was meeting him in person, I found he had quite the enthusiasm when he spoke.

My father and grandfather taught me a lot, though I learned plenty on my own, Blane said proudly. They built a lucrative construction business that I’ll get to take over one day. A few moments later, he changed the subject, asking me, so, what church do you go to? Your profile said you were a Christian.

Calvary Chapel, I replied.

I go there, too! Blane said, grinning. He wasn’t the most attractive man, but I decided he had a pleasant personality.

The fact that we went to the same church surprised me, and made me feel a little better, too, because my faith is important to me. A touch of warmth formed in my gut, making my stomach ache a little more tolerable.

Blane started asking about my kids, and that was a subject I could happily discuss at any time. I chatted for a while about my four children, unaware of how much I was smiling now.

I can tell you’re really proud of them, Blane said. You light up when you talk about them.

I nodded. My kids really are the reason I get out of bed every morning, I replied. Blane had no idea how true that really was, especially nowadays when I found myself waking in a cloud of despair, facing my impending divorce with as much bravery as I could muster.

Blane ate all of his lunch and I took mine home with me in a to-go box. He walked me to my car, carefully stepping on the icy sidewalks of the downtown streets. On the drive home, I found myself wondering if I would hear from Blane again; despite the trouble my stomach gave me, I had enjoyed myself, which was a nice change from what I had been dealing with lately.

When I got home and walked into the living room of the house Joe and I lived in, he was sitting in his usual spot in his large, brown Lazy Boy recliner. His dog Russy, a twenty pound black poodle, was lying between his leg and the arm of the chair. The two of them were rarely separated.

Joe smiled at me when I caught his eye, but there was a sadness in his gaze. That look he gave me brought the heartache to the forefront of my mind all over again, as fresh and stinging as always. I thought then that I would never stop loving this man, and I knew he still loved me, too. I glanced away from Joe and hurried back to my room so he couldn’t see the tears threatening to fall down my cheeks.

As I sat down and kicked off my shoes, my throat constricted with renewed sorrow. Neither one of us wanted to go our separate ways, but Joe’s family wouldn’t leave us alone and let us be happy. I wished we could go back to before we decided to get married. We were so happy then; we’d go on drives with no destination in mind, or sit side by side on the couch and talk into the wee hours of the morning about the world around us.

My eyes drifted to the big mirror over the dresser on the far wall, and I saw all the makeup on my face that I hardly ever wore. Bits of my eyeliner and mascara had smudged because of the wetness in my eyes. Joe used to tell me jokes all the time, corny ones that made me cry laughing. . . much different than the tears that were now cutting lines through my foundation. Seeing Joe so sad now made my heart cry out as if was being held in someone’s merciless grip.

I gasped, struggling to take in air. I wanted to run back out into the living room and wrap my arms around Joe’s neck and tell him how much I loved him. The words would spill from my lips, admitting how sorry I was that things hadn’t worked out the way we wanted. But I couldn’t; we were beyond all of that, and the bit of my heart that wasn’t shrieking in agony was still glowing from the enjoyable lunch I’d just had with Blane. It had been such a breath of fresh air, yet here I was, crying again.

I threw myself down on the bed and continued to sob, torn apart and all alone.

2

Dropped A Bomb

I met Blane at his apartment. We were going out to dinner and a movie. This evening was only our second real date, since I didn’t count taking him to work and picking him up. We hadn’t decided what we were going to see. We figured we would just pick something when we got there, which was okay with me. I’m not too picky when it comes to movies; I enjoy all different kinds.

We took his van. The inside was a mess, and all the wires were hanging all over the place. He said his brother Dale had done that when he had the van, and Blane hadn’t had the time to fix it.

As we were driving along the I-15 going to Jordan Landing, he suddenly said to me, I am a registered sex offender. My ex said that I victimized her children. I didn’t do it. She was angry and trying to get even with me. I was innocent, but they still convicted me.

I froze and didn’t say anything.

He said, you’re awfully quiet.

I said, yeah, sorry. That just shocked me and took me by surprise. I thought I knew some women could do that out of vengeance, and it really was cruel and heartless. It could ruin a person’s life. I also know first-hand that innocent people can go to jail, so I believed him.

I said, that must have been horrible.

He said, yes, it was, and it wasn’t fair that I had to go to prison for a crime I didn’t commit.

I said, how long were you in prison?

Blane said, twelve years.

I said, wow, that’s a long time.

Blane said, it felt like a lifetime. I will never go back.

We continued driving to our destination. I didn’t know what to say. My mind was swimming with questions but I didn’t feel comfortable asking them. I wanted to ask who the person was that he been accused of hurting. I wanted to ask him if he fought to prove his innocence. I decided to just let it go. I wanted to have a nice evening so I pushed the questions to the back of my mind. I told myself just relax and enjoy myself.

We went to a sports bar where we had dinner. I ordered a mixed drink. I rarely drink and when I do it affects me pretty quickly. I drank it pretty fast, then ordered another. The alcohol relaxed me and put me at ease. We had a lot of fun, laughing and joking.

As we walked over to the theater, I tripped and almost fell. Blane caught me. I laughed to cover my embarrassment. I can’t remember what movie we saw. It must not have been that good.

The ride back to his house seemed like it was taking forever. Neither one of us said much. When we got to his house, he asked if I wanted to come up for a minute. I said sure and went upstairs. We sat next to each other on the brown couch.

He leaned over and kissed me, his hand on my shoulder. He ran his hand down my arm.

I pulled back and said I had to go. Blane didn’t try to convince me to stay or push himself on me. He said, I don’t want you to do anything that you don’t want to do. He seemed like such a gentleman. He walked me down to my car, gave me a hug, and said he had a great time.

I told him, Thank you. I had a wonderful time, too.

He called me the next day and said he was going to St. George for the weekend to help his dad work on his house, and that he would pay me back for the part when he returned. His dad owned a home there as well, and they spent time in both places. I told him to have a good time and be safe.

On January 10th, 2013 Joe and I met at my attorney’s office to do mediation. We agreed on a settlement that said I would move out of the house by January 31. For several weeks, I packed boxes and took them to my house. I spent most of the weekend when Blane was in St. George packing and taking what I could to my house.

Joe had answered an ad I had in the Salt Lake Tribune for house cleaning. I cleaned for him for a short time. He would call me whenever he needed his house done. Then I didn’t hear from him for a long time.

I happened to be working in his area one day and decided to stop by and see how he was doing and if he needed my services. He said he was glad to see me and did need my help.

I scheduled a cleaning, then my partner Kelly and I cleaned his house. He rebooked for two weeks later.

After I had gone back a few times, he called me and asked if I would be willing to go out to dinner with him. I said I saw no harm in it. I knew that he was very lonely because his wife had died not too long before I had originally started working for him. He had often told me that his children didn’t come around very much. We went to dinner, and he talked a lot about his wife who had passed. He asked how my business was going and I told him about a few of my clients that made me crazy. He laughed and asked if he was one of them.

He would ask me out to dinner or breakfast every couple of weeks, and I would gladly accept. One time when I was cleaning his house, he told me to look in his room. I did, but I didn’t know what I was supposed to be looking for, so I went back out to the living room and asked what was I looking for.

He laughed and got up, and we headed to his room. Standing up next to the mirrored closet door was a fishing pole. He grabbed the pole and said that his kid had given it to him. I said that was cool and asked when he was going to go fishing. His smile faded, and he said he didn’t have anyone to go with him.

I said, I will go fishing with you.

He got the biggest smile on his face and said, Really? You’ll go fishing with me?

Yes, Joe, I will. Just plan it and let me know.

The next Saturday we went to Jordanelle Reservoir. He seemed happier than I had ever seen him. He showed me how to put the hook on the line, put on my weights, and what bait to use. We got our lawn chairs out and tied Russy to one of the chairs because he wanted to explore, but we didn’t want him to get lost or bother any of the fishermen. We spent several hours just fishing and relaxing. We didn’t catch anything but still thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

On the drive home, I got cold, and I placed the afghan that was laying on the back seat on my lap. Russy jumped over the seat and curled up on my lap. Then he decided he wanted to look out of the window. Suddenly my lap became very warm, and I realized that he had peed on me.

Oh! My God, Joe, Russy just peed on me! I screamed.

I grabbed a towel and started cleaning it up. We were both laughing hysterically. I nicknamed Russy Mr. Peebody. Joe asked if we could go fishing again and I said that would be great. I would like to bring my son with me next time, and he thought that would work.

The next time we went fishing, I took my son Bennett. Bennett didn’t want to fish. He wanted to walk down the trail and go exploring. So we did, just Bennett and me. We played along the edge, where there was a five-foot drop to the water. I kept telling Ben to be careful not to get too close. I’m such a worry-wart.

We tried skipping rocks but never did get any to skip. We went back, and Joe was relaxing in his lawn chair, fishing. Once again, we didn’t catch anything but just being out there enjoying the beauty and the fresh air was well worth the drive up. Joe and Bennett got along great. Joe told me he really enjoyed spending the day with us and that he really liked Ben.

Joe asked me to come over many times and have dinner and visit. On one of my visits, he surprised me with a bulb and a lens cover for my car. I had been hit in the back and hadn’t fixed it. He said it was unsafe to have the brake light out and we need to fix it. He had been a mechanic for a large part of his life. He had me replace the damaged pieces as he explained it to me. I really didn’t need him to, but I let him tell me anyway.

He couldn’t do it because of arthritis in his hands, and he had a hard time with the little screws. I had a hard time holding on to the screws, too.

I really enjoyed being over there. We would talk about his life and all the things he had done, about his wife and his children. Joe was so lonely, and well, I was, too. I had been single since 2006 and didn’t have much of a social life, so it was awesome to have someone to hang out with even though he was thirty seven years older than me.

Age didn’t matter to us. We just enjoyed each other’s company, but we both knew that no one else would understand, so we kept our friendship a secret. Joe was about five foot six inches tall and weighed about 160 lbs. His hair, what he had left of it, was gray, and he had a gray beard. He was handsome for a man his age, but I was not physically attracted to him. I just loved his company and all the stories he would tell me.

I remember one day he asked me if I wanted a milk nickel. A what? I asked.

A milk nickel.

I said, Hmm, sure.

He told me that it was in the freezer. I looked at him like he was nuts and he started laughing. I looked, but didn’t know what I was looking for.

He said, grab one of those ice creams. I did.

He said, That is a milk nickel. Back in my day they cost a nickel and were made from milk, and that is where they got their name.

I laughed at myself because I should have figured it out but didn’t.

That’s just an example of our conversations. We had so many enjoyable conversations; I learned a lot about the history of our country from his stories.

On December 24th of 2011, I stayed overnight at his house for the very first time. My oldest son stayed with me because we were going skiing up at Brighton Ski Resort the next morning. The three of us shared a lovely dinner and turned in early so we could get up early.

The next morning Joe’s grandson, his wife, and their little girl showed up. Joe and I were making breakfast, and his granddaughter commented that we seemed like an old married couple with the way we were behaving. We just looked at each other and smiled.

Nobody knew about the time we had been spending, so it was kind of funny to us. I had only met his grandson and granddaughter once. They showed up to mow his lawn when my employee and I were cleaning.

We started spending more time together, and Joe called me daily. It was crazy, but I looked forward to seeing him. He was my best friend, and I loved him.

One day after dinner we were driving to his house, and he looked over at me when I was stopped at the light and said, "marry