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1
Heavy vibrations from the old washing machine slammed against the concrete floor and roused Marie from a deep sleep. She blinked in rapid succession to clear the fog from her mind and took in the sights of the small living room. The rough material of the threadbare couch scraped against the exposed skin of her legs and the smell of stale cigarettes assaulted her senses.
Nora was snuggled tightly in her bassinet beside her, fast asleep. Deep, all-consuming love tightened her chest, followed by a quick stab of guilt. Her two-month-old daughter was the only bright spot in her life but raising her in such a crappy environment weighed heavy on Marie’s shoulders.
A quick glance at the digital clock on the glass television stand told her the bars would close soon. A shiver ran down her spine despite the stifling heat in the run-down bungalow she shared with her ex-boyfriend. Bill would be home soon and if she had to tell him one more thing was broken in the hellhole they called a home, he wouldn’t be happy.
The bruise he’d left on her jaw from the night before throbbed at the possibility of his reaction.
A small cry curled Nora’s lips, and she kicked her legs free of her swaddle.
Clamoring to her feet, Marie pushed a strand of dark hair from her face and hurried to pick her up before heading to the laundry room at the back of the house. The washer hopped across the cement, beating harder and faster against the floor, its desperate cries for attention echoing through the room. Marie lunged for the machine and quickly turned it off.
Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, and she leaned against the now dormant machine. How had she let her life come to this? Throwing in a load of wash while Bill got drunk so he wouldn’t be upset she forgot to clean his clothes? Running to the laundry room in the middle of the night to turn off a broken washer so Bill wouldn’t come home from the bar angry?
It had to end. Sucking in a deep breath, she searched for the courage to leave. Her options may be limited—heck, they were close to non-existent—but she couldn’t put it off any longer. A life lived in fear—placing her baby in danger—wasn’t a life she wanted to live anymore. Even if it meant putting her mom at risk of going back to jail.
The sound of the screen door banging against the side of the house set Marie’s nerves on edge. Bill’s rough, loud voice raised the hairs on her arm. A giggle tickled her eardrum. Marie straightened and held her breath, straining her ears toward the front of the house. Mumbled voices penetrated the thin walls. A humorless laugh puffed from her mouth.
He brought another woman home?
Enough was enough. She couldn’t wait a second longer to get out of this house and away from the man she’d been forced to leave her hometown with. An image of the notebook she kept tucked under her mattress sprang to mind, and she cringed. She needed her notes, and the small amount of money she’d managed to hide, but no way she could walk past Bill to get her things then march out the door.
The voices grew louder, closer, and Marie’s heart raced. She glanced around, but there was nowhere to hide. The laundry room barely held enough space for their machines, and if Bill stepped into the kitchen, there’d be no way he wouldn’t see her.
Crack!
Marie lifted her palm to her face. She’d been slapped enough times to know that sound, and images of how alcohol fueled Bill’s treatment of a woman when he was drunk and wanted satisfied filled her brain. Silence occupied the house for a brief second then angry voices exploded, heavy footsteps pounding her way. Fear churned in her gut. She had to get out of here—now. It didn’t matter that she had nothing more than the clothes on her back and no place to stay. A night in the woods was better than the hell waiting for her here.
Than the hell waiting for her innocent daughter.
Summoning whatever bravery Bill hadn’t managed to destroy, Marie found her baby carrier on top of the dryer and strapped a sleeping Nora to her chest. She tip-toed toward the back door. The coolness of the cement seeped into her bare feet, but at least it didn’t shift with her every step. Slipping into the flip-flops she’d left beside the door, she bit into her bottom lip and gently pushed open the old door.
The rusted hinges creaked with the motion, and every muscle in her body tensed. The yelling continued behind her, covering the noise. She swung the door open wider and a high-pitched scream followed by a loud thud froze Marie’s blood and stole her ability to move. Her instinct screamed to check on the woman, but she couldn’t put Nora in danger.
She had to run.
Hurrying through the door, she darted toward the thick foliage that kept her house hidden from the rest of the inhabitants of the small Tennessee town where she and Bill had recently relocated. She flew from the concrete stoop, one palm firmly holding Nora in place, and floodlights from atop the battered roof illuminated the backyard.
Dread threatened to stall her. No way Bill hadn’t seen the flash of light through the front window. She sprinted toward the darkened tree line at the edge of their property, and soon the long blades of grass scraped against her calves. Moisture from the earlier rain clung to her skin. Her chest tightened with every step, every ragged breath, every fearful thought of what Bill would do to her and Nora if he caught them.
Lengthening her stride, she ducked under low branches and weaved between trees. She sped down the hill that led to the river, and her heels skidded on loose leaves covering the ground. She wrapped her hand around the rough bark of a nearby tree and steadied herself. Energy leaked from her pores, but she pushed forward, using tree after tree for support against her weakening limbs. Time slipped by in a haze—seconds morphing into minutes and minutes ticking into a blur.
The snapping of twigs behind her rang out like cannon fire in the warm night air. Nora’s steady breathing told her that her sweet baby was oblivious to the danger around them. Sweat trickled through the damp hair matted at Marie’s temple, and sharp spasms of pain pierced her side, but she had to keep moving—had to keep running. If he caught her, he’d kill her.
Lord only knew what he’d do to Nora.
Booted footsteps pounded the wooded ground behind her, and she chanced a quick glance over her shoulder. Shadows moved between the trees, but the blanket of clouds across the moonless sky made it impossible to make out the monster stalking her.
Facing forward again, a light on the top of the riverbank flicked on. Indecision slowed her footsteps. Her options were low. She could run to the water or trust a stranger.
Decision made, she turned toward the light and stumbled forward, struggling not to wake the baby. Her thighs burned as she clamored up the slight incline. A low growl sounded behind her. Not a bear or a dog, but a deep feral growl of a man possessed. Swallowing her fear, she gathered all her strength and ran up the hill. Her foot caught on a root, and she fell to her knees. Jagged stones sliced the flesh that her jean shorts didn’t protect, but she couldn’t slow down.
“You’ll never escape me.” Bill hissed through the dark.
A tremor shook her hands the way it always did when Bill was too close. She clawed through the mud and loose pebbles and tried to get to her feet. She shifted to the side to protect Nora from the impact of the ground.
A hand tightened around her ankle and pulled her down the hill.
