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It only served to have me moving faster as I went to the bathroom and grabbed my medicine. The weight of the pill bottle was reassuring because a newly filled prescription meant I had one less thing to worry about. I jammed the bottle into my pocket on the off chance I had to make a break for it and leave everything else behind. My medicine was the only thing I literally couldn’t live without.

From the kitchen, I grabbed as many of the protein bars and shake mixes as I could fit into my bag, along with one of the shaker bottles Billy used to prepare his protein drinks. I hated the taste of the shakes, but I knew they could become vital if the second part of my plan didn’t work out.

Once the duffel was full, I put it and the guitar case by the front door and then returned to the kitchen and pulled my phone from my pocket. I didn’t even hesitate for a second before dropping the phone on the floor and stepping on it repeatedly until it was a mix of broken glass and plastic pieces. While it hadn’t really been necessary to destroy the phone to keep Billy from tracking me, I hadn’t wanted him to have access to any of the call history I hadn’t been able to figure out how to delete from the phone. I knew he could try getting the information from my cellular carrier, but I’d already called them earlier in the week while Billy had been at one of his many meetings to confirm they wouldn’t give anyone the information without the passcode.

As soon as I’d hung up, I’d changed the passcode.

I left the broken phone there on the floor and ignored the prickle of awareness that went through me that I’d just done something I couldn’t take back.

It didn’t matter.

I’d made the decision to leave Billy the second he’d put his hands on me a week ago. And unlike all the previous times, no amount of apologizing or bouquets of flowers or reminders of everything he’d done for me in the past had threatened to knock me from my course. I’d had to wait seven agonizingly slow days for Billy to leave town again because I’d been terrified he would walk in on me while I was getting my things together to leave. So, I’d been forced to use every trick in the book to make it through those days unscathed. The only close call had been the day I’d sent Aiden away because I’d been too crushed to adequately reassure Billy that he and I were back on track. Fortunately, the only thing that had taken a beating that day had been the roses he’d brought with him.

The thought of the roses had me stopping mid-stride as I headed for the door. My fingers shook as I took in their perfect beauty.

Unlike the phone, this time there was absolutely no logical reason for my actions, but I didn’t care. It was my final message to Billy, in case the phone wasn’t clear enough.

I grabbed the flowers off the coffee table and slowly dumped the vase over, causing the flowers and water to spray all over the expensive glass tabletop. Then I carefully set the vase down on its side, turned on my heel, and went to the door to grab my stuff. I didn’t spare the apartment even one glance as I shut the door behind me and then trotted down the stairs.

I had one more stop to make before hopefully putting Billy and New York in my rearview mirror for good.

I waited until Emily flipped the closed sign on the door to make my approach. Her back was to me when I knocked on the door.

“Sorry, we’re closed,” Emily called over her shoulder without turning around.

“Emily, it’s me… Ash.”

Emily quickly turned and then she practically ran to the door and flipped the lock. “Oh, thank God,” she said as she threw her arms around me and squeezed hard. I managed to stifle the moan of pain that threatened to escape my lips and returned the exuberant hug as best I could.

“Come in, come in,” she said as she dragged me into the coffee shop. She’d already turned off one set of the overhead lights, but not the other since she still had to clean the floor. Between the dim lighting and the hoodie I was wearing, it took her a good ten seconds to finally notice my face.

She let out a startled cry and covered her mouth with her hand. I ignored the sting of humiliation and forced myself to keep my eyes on her, even though my mind was telling me to drop them. Despite it having been seven days since the beating, the bruises were still pretty bad. They’d turned from a dark blue-purple color to sickly shades of green and yellow. The split in my lip had scabbed over and my eye was once again its normal size, though it was still badly bruised. I’d been relieved that my vision hadn’t been damaged.

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