Page 21 of Derecho

No. No. No. No….

“You told me to leave, Greg. I was leaving.”

I knew that was the wrong thing to say before it even left my mouth, and yet, I couldn’t stop myself. Greg stormed over to me, wobbling as he wrapped his hand around my arm. He yanked me up out of the chair, shoving me toward the living room.

This couldn’t be happening. I swallowed past the ache in my throat, my fingers wringing together to stop myself from saying something to upset him more.

“You’re an ungrateful bitch. You always have been. I don’t know why I put up with you for so fucking long. How do I even know that baby in your belly is mine?”

I reared back, my head jerking as if I’d been slapped. “I’m not the one who leaves here for days at a time, never answering texts, never trying to help his pregnant fiancé! I’ve been such a fool… My God. I let you back into my life over and over again, and the promise is always the same. ‘I’m sorry baby. I’ll stop drinking. I’ll stop spending money we don’t have. We’ll get married when the time is right, baby’. How many of those promises did you keep, Greg? Huh? How many? You’re questioning if this baby is yours because the night he was made, you were so drunk you could barely get it up. And even after I said I didn’t want to…you took…” My breath pulled tight as my stomach rolled. “I am always the fool. Aren’t I?”

His lips pulled tight. “Yeah. You really are.”

“I’m leaving,” I whispered.

“With what money?” he taunted.

I shook my head, swallowing down the bile that threatened to come up. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Oh, I see. Birdie will come in and save you, right? Does it feel good being almost thirty and having to run to your big sister for everything? Pathetic.”

My legs were shaking, but as soon as I wrenched my arm free from his grasp, I forced them to move. Past Greg. Around to the staircase. I had no money to buy clothes. No money to buy soap or lotion. I wasn’t leaving without those things. Even if it didn’t make sense when I was going to have to sleep in my car.

“Like you do with Mommy and Daddy? I don’t think I’m the only pathetic person in this relationship,” I shot back.

He grabbed hold of my shirt and yanked me backwards.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I told you,” I gasped, trying to break free as he continued to pull me back. “I’m getting my things and I’m leaving.”

“You leave and it’s over.”

My only concern was getting upstairs, packing up my things, and getting them out to my car. “That’s the POINT!” I shouted, hoping if I made myself bigger, he’d back down. “I’m leaving. Don’t touch me again. I’m going to pack some clothes, and you’re going to let me walk out this door.”

Stale, dead air swirled around us, matching exactly how I felt inside. Rain pounded down harder on the roof as I grabbed the banister.

“Then get the fuck out now!” he roared. “I won’t tell you twice.”

Just as my foot landed on the first step, his fingers slid into my hair, and he yanked back.

“Stop!” I screamed, tripping over my feet and slamming my shoulder into the wall. His hands spread out in front of me, blocking my escape.

“You want to leave? Get the fuck out right now.” Greg’s hand slapped across my face. My cheek burned, my vision dulling as I tried to blink away my shock. Oh God…He’d never, ever, hit me before.

He’d left bruises and marks in other ways, but he’d never hit me. I’d made the worst mistake of my life. And I knew—I knew if I didn’t get out now—there would never be another chance. I saw it in the way his dead eyes were looking at me. I wasn’t someone Greg loved. I was something he used. Something he held power over.

“Everything in this house, everything here, is mine. You can leave with the clothes on your back, I’ll give you that. And the baby in your belly. For now. I’ll be coming for my son. Don’t think I won’t.”

He pulled again, my fingers flying back to scratch down his arm, but Greg didn’t flinch. He dragged me toward the door, opened it, and pushed me out. My feet hit the cold, wet wood, almost slipping out from under me.

The bright lights on the porch turned on, blinding me as I tried to get my bearings. He was there in a flash, looming in the doorway. I watched as he dangled my car keys in front of his face before throwing them past me, out into the grass.

I didn’t have my phone. I didn’t have my wallet. No clothes. Nothing.

But I didn’t think twice. Not for a second. I’d been so scared earlier when Lachlan showed up, and now all I could think was how badly I wished I’d just listened to him. That I’d gotten in his truck and gone somewhere I knew I’d be safe.

My feet splashed in the standing water of the front yard as I waddled over to where my keys were. How the hell was I meant to bend over and get them? Probably all part of Greg’s plan to humiliate me as much as possible.