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“That’s the truth, Beau. I’m sorry, I don’t know what to tell you.” She stepped back, turning to the bags, and continued shoving things into them. Every so often, she glanced over her shoulder, and I looked over my own, feeling an unfamiliar sense of paranoia come over me.
“Rosalie, I know about the Amber Alert. You need to tell me the truth, or I’ll need to take you into the station and arrest you.” I held out the printout, and her eyes flicked to it before she looked at my face. Swallowing like her throat was full of glass, she approached the paper carefully and stared at it. “What happened, Rose?”
“He attacked me,” she said softly, her gentle eyes flicking to meet mine as rage burned through my body and a soft growl escaped my mouth. “Pulled a gun and shot …”
“The tattoo on your shoulder,” I said, nodding at the spot where she had a bandage.
“Yeah, thankfully, he missed. So, I grabbed Silas, and we left with nothing but the clothes on our backs and an envelope of money I’d been saving for months. I planned to leave him, but I was biding my time. Maybe a bit too long.” She rubbed the back of her neck before turning around and staring at the bags.
“He found me, or he says he has. He’s on his way, or he’s already here, which is why I must go. If he gets here, he will kill me. I know it.” She swept down and grabbed the two bags, sliding them onto her arm before turning toward the door.
“No.” I grabbed her as she took a step forward, staring at her. “No, he won’t. I won’t let him. If he even hurts a hair on yours or Silas’s head, he’s a dead man. You’re mine.” I growl the words, and her eyes widen, the fear erased by something else.
“He will never hurt you again, Rose. But you need to trust me. We need to clear your name and ensure the wheels he’s set in motion by claiming you kidnapped Silas are slowed. We need to file a report to make sure the record shows you’re a victim. You took photos of your wounds?”
My voice held a hopeful edge to it, but Rose was smart. If she had taken the time to develop an escape plan, she had to have had a plan to ensure she got full custody once she was gone.
“Yes, even the gunshot wound. But they’re on a cloud account. I couldn’t risk having them on a device.”
“Alright, good. Smart girl.” I pulled her against me, my arms holding her so tightly that a breeze couldn’t pass between us. Bowing my head, I buried my face in the top of her head and closed my eyes. “You’re safe now, Rose. You’re safe.”
Beneath me, she let out a soft sob. “I believe you.” Her words were quiet, but I could still hear them. “For the first time, I really believe I am. When my ex met me, I lived on the street, and he promised to keep me safe. But all he did was use me as a punching bag, and when I got pregnant, I knew I couldn’t stay with him. But I also knew I couldn’t just leave. He would never let me.”
“You’re free now, both of you. Silas will never go back to him. I’ll make sure of it. You’re safe. It’s over.”
“I’ve always been safe with you. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you with this sooner.”
“You’ve been strong alone for too long. Now it’s time to be strong together. I love you.” I kissed her nose and then her lips, squeezing her even more as she opened for me, and my tongue swept against hers, losing ourselves in the moment.
12
Rose
Beau helpedme load my things into his squad car, promising that when we got to the station, he would help me with the legalities of my situation, so I didn’t have to be arrested. As he put the last of our bags into his car, I looked through the small apartment to make sure I’d gotten everything before we went to pick him up from the babysitter’s.
On my hands and knees, I checked under the couch and confirmed it was empty before my gaze drifted under the side table. Through the groove, I spotted something and reached out, maneuvering my arm under the table as I curled my fingers around a round, wooden object. As I pulled my arm out again, someone grabbed my ankle and yanked me out. My arm tore through the small hole, the intricate grooving ripping several layers of skin off.
Crying out in pain, whoever had my ankle flipped me over onto my back, and a cold, clammy hand covered my mouth. The pressure stifled any more noise from me as I stared wide-eyed at my ex.
“Abigail,” he leered. The dangerous glint in his eye told me I was in for a world of pain. He quickly looked out the window, presumably at Beau, who was still busy loading the car, and then swiveled back to me. “Time to go.”
Pulling me onto my feet, he managed to keep one hand over my mouth as he leaned in. “You’re going to be very quiet, aren’t you?” Something hard jabbed me in my ribs, and with a glance, I confirmed it was a gun.
Nodding slowly, I held his eye contact as he slowly removed his hand from my mouth.
“Good girl, Abbie. Now, you’re going to take me to our son.” He stepped back and waved me ahead of him with the gun. My fingers remained tight around the wooden wheel in my hand, needing somewhere to concentrate all my energy.
We walked through the apartment slowly, both of us keeping one eye on a window where we could see Beau talking to someone on the phone. A horrible knot formed in my stomach, making bile rise. Every part of me wanted to run to him, knowing he could, and would, protect me. But my brain refused. The synapses had shut off, paralyzed with fear of what Dean would do.
He ushered me through the kitchen and out the open sliding backdoor. Once we were outside, he picked up the pace and rushed me through toward the parking lot, making me curse the lack of fencing around this property. We reached his truck idling in the visitor’s section of the resort parking lot, making us blend in like we were tourists.
Pulling the driver's door open, he unlocked the second cab door and shoved me inside. Landing in a graceless heap on the back floor, I pulled myself onto the bench as he slammed the door shut. The truck shifted against his weight as he climbed in behind the wheel, starting the truck and carefully pulling away from the curb.
Sitting straighter now, I reached for the window button and tried to roll it, but the button simply clicked—a victim of childproofing. I tried the door next, only confirming my suspicions that unless I wanted to crawl over the console and try to escape next to him, I was stuck.
Then, with all the arrogance he possessed, Dean drove right past Beau as he finished his call on the sidewalk outside my place. I even watched Beau lift his hand in greeting, which Dean returned, and I slammed a fist against the blackened window as he turned to go inside.
“So, Abbie, where is Silas?”
