Page 57 of Save Me

I glance at my door, but Arthur clocks my eye movement. He snaps a hand out, grabbing my arm. “I just wanna talk.” I know I should feel his grip, but I’m numb.

For a second, I consider doing something absolutely stupid. I consider ripping my arm away and screaming at him. Screaming that we’re done and to get the fuck out of my car. But as I turn my hate-filled gaze on Arthur, his eyes light up with a mean look. A look I know all too well. A look that means I’m playing right into his game.

“Gonna hit me, baby?” he asks in a mocking tone, excitement lacing his words. “Gonna fucking hit me?”

No, because he’ll just hit me harder.

Arthur squeezes so tight that now I feel the pain. It lances through my arm, and I suck in a breath.

“Where’s that money you stole?”

“I’m working on it,” I grit my teeth.

Arthur pulls me closer, his breath hot. “You stole from me. I should report you to the cops. But you know what?” He lets go of my arm, and I suck in a breath until his hand snaps to my neck. “I’m not like you. I don’t betray the people I claim to love.” Arthur squeezes hard and presses in, pain immediately blooming in my neck along with panic.

It’s happening again, and I’m not doing anything to protect myself.

I scramble to rip his hand off me, scratching at his skin and arching my back, but he doesn’t let up. Instead, he squeezes harder, and my vision starts to go fuzzy.

“So I won’t. Yet, anyway. Give me what you owe me, and you won’t have to worry about it.”

Then he lets go, and I suck in huge lungfuls of air, my heart racing.

“Don’t keep me waiting.”

And then he’s gone. Arthur is gone?

I glance around to see him walking back to a car I hadn’t seen before. He left? Why did he leave?

I breathe heavily, panic zipping through my veins. I should have seen this coming. What did I miss? How did I miss it?

With shaky hands, I put the keys in my ignition.

It takes a few attempts to turn the key, and slowly, so slowly, I drive off. Only then do I think to check for Arthur’s car to see if he’s following me.

It’s not there.

What the hell?

I blink once, staring at the passenger seat. Empty.

I look in the seat behind me, then yank my gaze back to the road.

I’m alone. Arthur can’t get me.

Warm hot pain blooms up my arm and through my neck. My throat squeezes, cutting off my air, and I suck in breath after breath. I should have seen this. Should have known he’d come after me. Since when did Arthur ever let me get away with anything?

The fear turns to anger, and I slam my palm into the steering wheel. What the actual fuck is wrong with me? I was too busy playing Micah’s game. I should have run. Should have gotten out and run or, better yet, fought him. Why the hell do I always just…sit there?

Because I’m always one move behind. Always. One move behind when Dad would beat my ass, and one move behind with Arthur. This just confirms it; I have to be one move behind with Micah, too. That stupid idea I had in my head of him being nice is just that–stupid, and it’ll get me hurt.

My throat is so tight I know I’m about to cry.

So how the fuck did Arthur find me? That’s the move I let slide. Suddenly, it hits me. Arthur is the RN who treats Mr. Parker. He could probably easily find out who helps him at home as part of his treatment plan. And Arthur knows what I do for a living and who I work for.

I sink further into my seat. I’ll never be safe. Arthur will always find me. Danger will always find me.

I make it back to Micah’s place, then stare blankly at the townhouse. I’m not ready for round two. I’m weak. I’m not fucking ready.