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“No arguments. Now you owe me thanks for letting you leave me, even if it is only a few days.” He whispers seductively. That voice is the one that drew me in the beginning. Now it’s the voice I may loathe the most. It usually means the opposite of how it sounds.
“I should probably pack a bag,” I whisper back.
Another mistake. I should know not to say anything when he’s in this mood. I don’t register his fist coming through the air until it’s too late to block. The pain is immediate and I’m certain my cheek is now fractured. My vision blurs for a moment before coming back into focus. My first reaction is to reach up and touch where his fist landed.
I don’t have time as he grabs me again, wrenching my arms above my head and holding them there as he pushes the sweatpants down his hips enough to release himself. There is no barrier between us-I’m not allowed to wear any sort of clothing to bed- so he’s able to thrust straight into my center. I bite my lip to keep myself silent.
The pain of his assault without preparation is staggering. It’s one thing my body will never be used to. I refuse to make a sound, though. I can’t risk Dakota hearing.
If Dakota comes in here, Nick will just get pissed and I don’t know if I’ll survive his wrath. I have to survive and think of my daughter. I don’t know exactly what he would do with her should I ever not survive the beatings.
He’d use her for his sick pleasure, I’m sure. I’m the only thing stopping him now. So I lay here and take every ounce of abuse, my body marked up and bruised with bite marks and fingerprints by the time he’s done.
Carrying these marks is nothing new to me. The one thing Nick never fights me on is the makeup and concealer I use. It’s expensive, but it covers the bruises so no one else can see the damage he leaves behind.
“You’ll carry my brand on you while you’re gone so that everyone knows you are owned.” He grunts as he comes. “And don’t for a second think about running away. If you do, I will find you and I’ll make you regret ever being born.”
“I understand. Dakota and I will only be gone for a few days.”
“Oh no, little bird. Dakota stays.”
Fear takes hold of my heart. Of course, he wants to keep her here. It’s the one way he can guarantee my return. I know what he’s capable of, though, and I fear what he’ll do to her in my absence.
I’ll have to sneak us both out. I never told him much about my past, about where I came from. He has no clue where the ranch is, so I hope we’ll be safe there.
I breathe easier when he rolls off of me and immediately begins snoring. When I’m sure he’s sound asleep, I carefully slip out of bed, put on some clothes, and pack. Once I have my bag packed, I quietly pack one for Dakota too. I only pack essentials, hoping not to tip Nick off about my plan to take my daughter with me.
I contemplate waiting until the morning to leave and catch a flight out, but I quietly carry Dakota to my car. Nick can track the flight, and I don’t want to take that chance. It will be better to drive.
The drive to Rush Springs will be tiring, but I must leave this place before Nick wakes up and decides we aren’t going anywhere. I can’t take the risk. I hurry with our things.
I get Dakota comfortably nestled in her car seat and tell her to go back to sleep. I kiss her on the head and load the bags in the car, praying that Nick doesn’t wake. We make a stop about fifty miles out for gas and food.
The lady at the register looks at me with sympathy, and then I remember the bruising that's started to show on my cheek. There was so much relief in my leaving that I forgot about the pain. I hurry out to a still-sleeping Dakota and take off. My shoulders refuse to relax until I see the Welcome to Oklahoma sign.
It will piss Nick off when he wakes up to find us gone. My only hope is that Dakota and I aren't worth Nick searching for. If he does, being on the ranch may offer protection lacking in Savannah. Not taking a flight may very well save my life.
I never plan to go back to him. Once I have Dakota safely stowed away with the people I claim as family, it won’t matter. I’ll die before I go back.
We arrive in the early afternoon. Dakota, who had been quiet for most of the drive, finally speaks. “Moo, mama!” She squeals when she sees the herd lazing in the knee-high grass.
I laugh lightly at her as she moos at all the cows she sees. I turn right on the dirt road and drive under the sign that holds the ranch logo. When I see the CR across the front of the sign, I finally take my first full breath.
The road winds around and I can see the men wrangling some cattle in the fields. They seem subdued but continue doing the job they are proud of. I can imagine they’re all feeling deep grief over the loss of my dad. He always treated his cowhands like family.
Some more than others.
Making it up to the big house, as it’s called, I can see it’s changed significantly in the six years since I left. Most notable is the entire wing added to the western-facing part of the house. The lake I grew up swimming in is still the same though, with its small dock and the rope hanging from the old oak tree that I’d swing from into the water.
Dakota will love it.
I pull up the driveway and park to the side of the front door. Turning to look at Dakota I tell her, “You stay here for a minute and I’ll be right back, ok?”
“Where are we, mama?” She asks in response.
Ignoring her question, I open the car door and step out just as the front door opens and Manuel steps out onto the patio. I’d know him anywhere, even if he has aged over the years. I stroll toward the man whom I have considered an uncle my entire life. He meets me halfway, arms wide open and a sad smile on his face. I rush into his arms and he quickly enfolds them around me.
“Hey, baby girl. It’s good to see you.” He says, his voice cracking. He pulls back and looks at me. His eyes narrow with suspicion when he sees the bruise on my cheek. “What happened?” He asks with a tilt of his head toward my cheek.
