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My heart rose. The Pine Valley pack was a long drive. Two days and a night of peace. I could curl up with Dylan in the bed, watch movies with him while my body began to heal from this abuse. Making sure to hide my relief, I just nodded.
“I hope you heal up some tonight,” he said tenderly. “Get into bed, and I’ll bring you a bowl of ice cream.”
“Thank you.”
When he finally left, Rose emerged.
“You’ve got to go,” I whispered, pointing to the window.
“I will.” She stared at me, though, as if she had something to say. Finally, she murmured, “Why, Amelia? Why did you tell him you’re the one who’s sorry?”
“You don’t understand. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect Dylan.”
She knelt next to me, taking my hand. “Promise me you’ll let me help you. We’ll get you out of here.”
“Not tonight,” I whispered. I couldn’t drag my baby sister into this mess.
Not unless it was the only way to save Dylan.
I hated what Nathan had turned me into.
She looked at me, disappointed, but when I pointed to the window, she finally slipped out.
CHAPTER9
Amelia
Late that night,I lay awake as Nathan snored beside me, debating the best way to kill him.
The convoy would take a lot of twisting, dangerous mountain roads. I knew enough about cars to understand that cutting brake lines only worked in movies. Cutting the line would cause an immediate failure of the brakes; he’d notice before he left the driveway.
But it would take a lot longer for tires to come off thanks to loose lug nuts. Loose tires could very well be fateful on those mountain roads. Nathan had so many enemies, inside and outside the pack, it wasn’t likely anyone would pin me as the murderer. I was just the demure, whipped little wife, after all.
Sometimes, it’s a gift when no one sees you as you truly are.
I slipped out of bed, listening to his rough breathing, then made my way across the room. My heart hammered as I padded barefoot down the stairs, adrenaline flooding my body; the fear of getting caught overwhelmed the pain that came with every step. I glanced down at my body, caught a glimpse of the deep blue-black bruises left by his hands and fists and boots, and refused to look again. When he had touched me, I found myself repulsed by my own body. He even took my body away from me, making ithisand not my own.
In the kitchen, I opened the cabinet that held vitamins, pill bottles, and sunscreen and pulled out the Motrin. I filled a glass of water at the sink, my hands shaking, then stopped and listened for him.
The house was silent except for Nathan’s snoring.
I set the glass down on the countertop a bit too hard, the noise seeming to echo through the kitchen. Then I ran quickly to the garage. If he found me, I would say I couldn’t sleep, that I’d left my book in the car. There was always a pile of books on my passenger seat; I hated to get caught in a boring situation without a romance novel to lose myself in.
Hastily, I grabbed the right tool and set to loosening the lug nuts on his truck. My heart in my throat, I kept a constant eye on the door. After rushing to put the tool back, I leaned down and finger tightened them just a little, wanting to make sure they held until he was well down the road.
When I looked up for a second, I saw someone looming in the doorway. It only took a blink to decide my imagination had gotten away from me. He had me seeing shadows, seeing ghosts.
I felt like a ghost myself already. As if my early death had become inevitable the moment Nathan stepped into my path.
I retrieved a book from the car, just to have an excuse, and went back into the house. I was alone in the kitchen as I swallowed the Motrin and drank my water, but I couldn’t help fearing that he would find me at any moment.
While I climbed the stairs, holding the railing too tightly, as if I could haul my aching body up, I heard a creak in the hall. Panic fluttered through my chest, no matter how much I told myself to calm down. If anything, my nerves would betray me to him. This life of mine had taught me to lie.
But it was Dylan who stood frozen in the doorway of his room, a small, shadowed figure. He seemed to be stuck there like prey, as though he was afraid of being caught by Nathan too. He probably was.
“Where were you?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
He probably meant where I’d gone just now, but I couldn’t help hearing it as a question of where I’d been tonight when Nathan hurt him. When he realized he was alone in the house.
