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“I was wonderin’ if ye were gonna mention him.”
Shaking, I said. “Finn, me and you broke up.”
“No, that’s not what happened. What happened was you had a fight with your daddy, got upset, and left home because ye didn’t want to be disciplined anymore. We never broke up, Ina. You’re confused.”
He was gaslighting me, but I wasn’t falling for it. Not anymore. He wasn’t making me feel like I was crazy. I wouldn’t let him.
“Finn—”
“We’re goin’ home. Ye can make everythin’ right when we’re there. I’ll forgive ye for bein’ with that man, wearin’ these clothes, and runnin’ off once we’re back home.”
Home is where Dante is.
“Fix your hair. It’s all messed up.”
Wordless, I let my mane down, rearranged it with shaking hands, and tied it back into a bun. I withheld a wince. My scalp was stinging from where he snatched my hair up. Finn remained pressed against me, his dark brown eyes leered at me as I moved, and it made me feel sick. I was a trembling mess stuck on the fact that Finn had punched me. He had never hit me before. Scream-filled beratings and cruel insulting taunts were his style. I wasn’t sure why I was surprised, though. The next step up from verbal and emotional abuse was physical.
“Let’s go.”
Withholding a whimper, I nodded. I couldn’t plead with him any further because he’d probably kill me if I refused to go. I stared at Mr Collins until Finn pulled me out of the kitchen. I opened the small shoe press in the hallway and put on flats instead of my heels just so I could run when the opportunity presented itself.
“Don’t look at anyone.”
My face hurt so badly that all I could focus on was the heartbeat in my cheek.
Finn’s arm moved. It slid around my waist as if he was holding me lovingly while we walked. The elevator ride down to the bottom floor felt like it was never ending. I was praying to God that I’d see someone I knew in the lobby, but that prayer wasn’t answered. Before I could blink, I was out of the building and inside the passenger seat of Finn’s battered Ford Focus.
It felt like I was thrust back into the past. Finn pulled out of the car park, made a few turns onto different streets, then drove towards the Naas road. The radio was on, and he was tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. The scene was one I had seen hundreds of times, but this time was different. He was physically forcing me to be here. He was dragging me away from a happy life, a wonderful relationship, and loving friends who had become my family.
I was still and silent as we left the Naas road and merged onto the M7. It wasn’t until the urban towns began to fall away and rural fields and farms and fields took their place that I shifted. I felt like I was in a daze. It was such a beautiful evening outside, and the sky was alive with blue, pink, and orange. It looked peaceful, but inside the car, it felt like I couldn’t breathe.
I looked at Finn, wondering how a handsome man could be so cruel. When people looked at Finn and talked to him, they thought he was great, a real catch. They didn’t know him, though, not like I did. As I stared at him, something he said back in the apartment crossed my mind.
“Finn, earlier in me apartment, ye said I ran away to get away from Daddy disciplinin’ me. I never told ye he put his hands on me.”
Finn didn’t so much as glance my way.
“We’re together a long time, ye think I didn’t notice the bruises and cuts? Ye think I didn’t stop by your house a few times and hear him layin’ into you?”
I stared at his profile, and I felt raw hate. I was so used to feeling fear, rarely anger, but it flowed through me now. My hate for this man grew by the second, and I had to ball my hands into fists to keep them steady.
“Ye knew all this time, and ye never helped me? Ye never put a stop to it?”
“How a father decides to discipline his child is his business.”
My stomach dropped. “I’m a grown woman, not a child.”
“You’re still his child. I don’t interfere with family matters.”
I wanted to launch myself at him. I wanted to sink my nails into his face and rip chunks out of him. I didn’t move an inch, though. I wasn’t stupid. We were on a busy motorway, and if I attacked Finn while he drove one hundred and thirty-five kilometres an hour, fifteen over the speed limit, I’d kill myself along with him and anyone else we crashed into.
