Eventually, my stomach reminds me that neither of us has eaten since the stale sandwiches I bought at a gas station twelve hours ago. I ease Jackson onto the bed, covering him with the thin blanket, and start unpacking what we need for the night.
The bags hold everything we own now. Four years of Jackson's life, last five years of mine, reduced to what I could carry on my back. Some clothes. A few toys. The important documents—birthcertificates, social security cards—hidden in a waterproof pouch at the bottom of the largest duffel. Three thousand two hundred and eighteen dollars in cash, most of it in small bills, divided into multiple hiding spots so that if someone steals one stash, I won't lose everything.
Derek would laugh if he could see me now. Counting dollars, rationing money, worrying about the price of a motel room. He has more money than he could spend in ten lifetimes, all of it dirty, all of it blood-soaked, and I used to live in a penthouse with a view of the city skyline.
Now I'm in a room that smells faintly of mildew, with carpet that squishes under my feet if I step in the wrong spot, and I've never been happier.
That's not true. I was happy once, before Derek. When I was young and stupid and believed that love conquered all. When I had friends who cared about me and parents who wanted the best for me and a future that stretched out bright and endless.
Derek took all of that away.
He did it so slowly that I didn't even notice until it was too late. First, it was little comments about my friends, how they were jealous of our relationship, how they didn't understand what we had, how they were holding me back. Then it was suggestions that I didn't need to see them so often. Then there were fights whenever I made plans without him. Then it was easier to just... not make plans at all.
My parents were harder. They saw through him from the beginning, my mother especially. She pulled me aside at Christmas dinner, three months into the relationship, and told me there was something wrong with him. Something behind his eyes that scared her.
I didn't listen. I was in love, and love made me blind, and I told her she was being ridiculous. Told her she didn't know him like I did. Told her to mind her own business and let me live my life.
The last time I spoke to my mother, I screamed at her that she was a controlling bitch who couldn't stand to see me happy. That I never wanted to talk to her again. That Derek was more family to me than she had ever been.
I was twenty-three years old, and those words are the biggest regret of my life.
Four years. Four years since I've heard my mother's voice, since I've seen my father's face, since I've been home. Derek made sure of that. Isolated me so completely that by the time I realized what was happening, I had no one left. No friends, no family, no support system.
Just him. Just the man who said he loved me while teaching me to be afraid.
I could call them now. The thought occurs to me as I'm folding Jackson's clothes into the dresser drawer. I could pick up the phone and call my parents and tell them everything. Tell them I was wrong, I was stupid, I was manipulated by a monster, please forgive me, please help me, please.
But how can I? After everything I said? After four years of silence? They probably hate me now. They probably gave up on me a long time ago. And even if they didn't, even if they'd welcome me back with open arms, I can't put them in danger. Derek knows where they live. If I go to them, he'll find me. And he won't just hurt me this time. He'll hurt them too.
I can't risk that. I won't.
So, I'll stay here, in this small town at the end of a random bus route, and I'll figure it out on my own. I'll find a job, find a placeto live, build something from nothing. For Jackson. For the life he deserves.
My beautiful boy, who looks at me like I hung the moon. Who trusts me completely, who believes every word I say, who depends on me for everything.
I can't be worthless if I'm his mother. I can't be pathetic if I had the strength to run.
I splash water on my face and dry it with the rough motel towel. Tomorrow, I'll figure out the next step. Tomorrow, I'll look for a job, find a real place to live, start building the life I promised my son. But tonight, I'll let myself rest. Just for a few hours. Just until the sun comes up, and I have to be strong again.
I lie down on the bed next to him, curling my body around his the way I used to when he was a baby. He makes a small sound in his sleep, shifting closer, his hand finding mine in the darkness.
"I love you," I whisper. "I'm going to keep you safe. No matter what."
The sheriff's business card is still on the dresser, his cell phone number scrawled on the back. A lifeline, if I need one. A stranger's kindness in a world that's been so cruel.
I don't trust it. I don't trust anything anymore.
But somewhere deep inside, in a place I thought Derek had destroyed, something flickers. Something warm and painfully fragile.
Hope.
I close my eyes and let sleep take me.
Chapter 3 - Tom
I sit in my car outside the motel for longer than I should, staring at the closed door of Room 7. The light inside is dim, just a faint glow through the curtains. They're safe for tonight. That should be enough.
It's not enough.
