Page 21 of Flashback for the Forward

“Wh-whose name?”

His fingers tightened, and I made a choking sound as my feet were lifted off the ground.

Darkness crept in from all sides, and I welcomed it. Death had finally come to release me from my prison. There was peace in knowing my suffering would soon come to an end.

“Hey!”

I was jostled from the brink of unconsciousness when my back hit the dresser with a deafening crack, my spine singing in agony from the sharp impact.

“Don’t you dare pass out on me, you dumb bitch.”

My lips parted, but no sound came out. If I made it out the other side of this alive, it would be a wonder if I didn’t sustain permanent damage to my vocal cords from his punishing grip.

Aiden got right up in my face. “When I find the man you’ve been fucking on the side, I will kill him for touching what belongs to me. In the meantime, I’m going to flush these pills, and if I get so much as a hint that you’ve attempted to acquire more, I will affix a metal cuff to your ankle with enough slack on the chain that you can move about the house but never leave. You’re mine, Bridget.” An evil grin curved onto his lips. “Until death do us part.”

Before I knew what was happening, I was airborne. With my vision swimming, I barely registered that Aiden remained stationary as my body catapulted through the air.

A burst of pain exploded throughout my skull.

And then it was lights out.

“Ah.” My hand came up to cradle my throbbing head as I regained consciousness.

Slowly, I cracked an eye open, a wave of relief crashing over me when I saw that I was alone in the bedroom.

With a groan, I pushed upright, wincing at the soreness in my back. Taking in my surroundings, I noticed the bedside table had been knocked onto its side, a streak of crimson marking the sharp corner. Shards of glass littered the floor from a broken picture frame. Clothes were strewn about the room, the drawers of the dresser having been ripped out, likely from Aiden searching for more contraband.

There was no doubt in my mind that I was lucky to be alive. But what about the next time? I didn’t intend to stick around long enough to find out.

Agony permeated every cell in my body as I crawled to the mattress, using all the strength I had left to get to my feet. Each breath brought with it a piercing pain through my chest as I shuffled to the door that had been left wide open.

“Aiden?” My throat burned, his name coming out as barely more than a whisper.

No reply.

Stepping into the hallway, I went from room to room, checking to see if he was home. When my search came up empty, I poked my head into the garage to find his car was gone.

With no idea how long it would be before his return, I had to move fast if I was going to make my escape.

Pushing through the pain that gripped me with every step, I rushed back into the bedroom, making a mad dash for the walk-in closet. Thankfully, this space had been left untouched, and I dug through the pile of discarded clothing meant for donation in the back corner. My fingers made contact with the smooth surface of a shoebox, and I pushed the remaining fabric aside to uncover it completely.

Flipping the lid, I gazed upon the mementos of my life before Aiden. A picture of Bennett and me at my high school graduation. Another from the day he was drafted. The nameplate from my desk. A paper rose that a student had made for me during my first year of teaching. My childhood diary.

Most importantly, hidden within old birthday cards was cash. Not a lot. Enough to secure a cab, but not enough to pay the driver to leave the city limits.

The only question now was where to go.

Immediately, I eliminated the possibility of seeking refuge in one of the women’s shelters in San Diego. Aiden would scour those first, and if he showed up in uniform, claiming to need a statement from one of the residents in a domestic violence case, they would grant him entry. While it might be a safe place to hide for the vast majority of victims, it wasn’t an option for me.

The thought crossed my mind that I could ask to be driven as far north as my meager funds allowed, then hitchhike from there. It was late, closing in on midnight, but one of the perks of living in Southern California was the mild climate. Nights in the fall were chilly, sure, but I wouldn’t die of exposure.

I began opening each envelope, frantically stuffing the bills into my bra for safekeeping. When I lifted the final card from the shoebox, I sucked in a sharp breath. At the very bottom rested a silver necklace.

As if they were drawn by a magnet, my fingers brushed over the half-heart pendant hanging from a delicate chain. It had been a very long time since I’d worn this particular piece of jewelry, but I would never forget the day it had been gifted to me.

Tap, tap, tap.

I sat up in bed at the sound of pebbles being thrown at my window, a smile on my face.