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But right then, with his voice telling me that he didn’t want to lose me?
Yeah.
I fell.
Hard.
Tears, useless at that moment, flooded my eyes. And no amount of blinking made them go away.
“Just so you know, just in case, I’ve been happier with you than I think I’ve ever been.”
“Fuck, baby, don’t talk like that,” he demanded, voice wrecked. “That sounds too much like goodbye.”
“Hopefully just for now,” I said, ending the call and turning off my ringer.
It was too much.
I was too fragile right then.
And I needed not to be thinking about myself and my situation. I had to be thinking about Wren and what was happening to her.
Tossing my phone in my purse, I pressed my forehead to the cool glass, trying to clear my mind of anything related to Salvatore—a task that was harder than I could have anticipated as I pictured him hearing the call end, tossing his phone to the passenger seat, letting out a savage curse, and pressing the pedal to the floor.
Trying to force the thoughts away was impossible, so I worked on replacing them instead.
With every single late-night phone call with my sisters hysterical voice on the other end. With every session of sitting in my bathroom trying to clean her up, reassuring her all the while that it wasn’t her fault, that it didn’t matter what she may have said or done to Josh, that it never gave him the right to put his hands on her. With the times she’d managed to call me early, so I was able to rush over there, witnessing the violence with my own two eyes. With all the times he’d conned her into coming back as I waited on bated breath for that inevitable phone call again.
Rage, old and familiar, bubbled up with each passing mile, until it felt like lava surging through my system, ready to pour out and destroy any and everything in its path.
“You’re sure this is the spot?” the driver asked when we pulled to the end of a narrow tree-lined driveway.
“This is it,” I agreed, passing him more money, not caring about rent or college tuition or anything at all. None of them would matter if I didn’t get Wren out of this. Or myself, for that matter.
“Want me to wait to make sure?” he asked. “Don’t feel comfortable dropping a woman in the middle of nowhere like this.”
“My boyfriend is coming,” I told him, since I was sure he’d overheard at least part of our conversation earlier. “Knowing him, he’s speeding and is likely right behind us,” I added, not wanting him to stick around.
“Alright,” he said, not looking happy about it, but accepting it.
“Thanks,” I said, trying to put some peppiness in my voice as I climbed out of the backseat.
I only walked up a few feet, waiting to make sure he drove away, watching the orange of his taillights disappear before reaching into my purse for my two weapons—if you could even call them that. Tucking them into my hands, I left my purse there near the end of the driveway, figuring it would only get in the way, then made my way up.
I wanted to run, to barge right into the house, but it was Salvatore’s voice in my ear telling me to go slow, to take my time, to assess the whole situation to give myself a better chance at success.
So even as nerves jangled in my very bones, I made my way up the long driveway, watching as the house came into focus.
The lights were on.
And Josh’s black sedan was in the driveway.
From what I could tell, there were a few other houses on this side of the river on both sides of this estate, but the properties were wide and long, flanked by old trees, creating plenty of privacy to protect all sorts of sins.
It was standing there, in the clearing of the driveway, trying to figure out my next move, that I heard it.
Her.
I heard her.
