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Prologue
Summer of 2006
He was leaving me. Crying, I pleaded with him not to go. Everyone left me. Momma left me first, then Daddy. Now my brother. I didn’t understand why. Did I do something wrong? Was something wrong with me? Was that why everyone kept leaving me? I would fix it if he told me what I did wrong. I promised I would. He was all I had left besides Grandfather. I needed him. “Don’t go!” I cried, running to him, wrapping my arms around his neck tight. He was so much bigger than me. He protected me. He was my best friend.
Hugging me tight, I sobbed into his neck. “Please. I’ll be good, Kole. I promise.”
His arms tightened. “Oh, Jinx. You did nothing wrong. Never. You are perfect, baby. Always have been.”
Trembling in his arms, I sniffed. “Then don’t leave me.”
I loved his big arms when they held me. I always felt safe.
“I love you, Kaliope. Never forget that. I will always be here if you need me.”
“I need you now,” I sniffed, hugging his neck harder.
“Jinx, you don’t need me. You have Grandfather. He loves you so much.”
“But I want you.”
“I know, sweetheart, but there is no place for me here. I need to find where I belong.”
“You belong with me!” I screamed at him, my anger rising to the surface as I pulled out of his arms. He was leaving me like Daddy and Momma did. He didn’t love me. He wanted to run away. Everyone left me.
“Go Kole,” Grandfather solemnly said, coming to stand behind me. His hands resting on my shoulders. “I’ll take care of her.”
My brother stood and sighed. I knew that look. He made his mind up. There was nothing I could do to stop him. I stood rooted in my spot as I watched him pick up his duffle bag and walk to the door. Tears were streaming down my face, but it didn’t matter.
“I hate you!” I screamed as I ran from the room.
March 2023,
“Momma,” I heard my little girl whisper as she gently tried to shake me awake. I could hear her little brothers whimpering next to her as I moaned, rolling over onto my back, ignoring the immense pain I felt throughout my body. I didn’t hear the baby and wondered if he was okay. It was close to his feeding time. He would be hungry soon. I needed to get up and clean myself. I didn’t like it when my babies saw me this way. They were innocent and needed to be protected.
All I ever wanted was to provide a good life for my children. I didn’t ask for much. My kids needed to be loved and cherished. Instead, they lived in my nightmare. I knew the younger ones would never remember, but my daughter, she would.
She would remember everything.
God, I prayed he didn’t touch them.
He had really done it this time. Shortly after our daughter was born, the man I married ceased to exist. He’d become someone different. Someone I didn’t recognize. I did everything in my power to shield my daughter from him. I even kept her out of sight when he would finally show his face.
My only reprieve was when I told him I was pregnant.
Then and only then would he stay away.
I thought when our twin boys, Jasper and Jaxson, were born nine months to the day after our daughter Talia was born, he would be happy. That only infuriated him more, especially when he learned I was on the pill. He flew into a rage and beat me so badly I feared the very sight of him. He told me he would kill me if I ever tried to deceive him again as he flushed my pills down the drain. A few months later, I found myself pregnant again.
I refused to believe that the man I once loved and married would ever try to kill me, but I was wrong.
So very wrong.
I didn’t understand why he hated me so much that the very sight of me infuriated him to the point of madness. When my third son, Tanner, was born, I learned the truth. I didn’t have an easy pregnancy with Tanner. When I started bleeding in my eighth month, an ambulance was called. After an emergency c-section, I woke to find him sitting next to me. There was no worry on his face, no concern, just anger. He didn’t even ask about me or his son before he demanded I sign the document in his hands. When I refused, he punched me so hard in my stomach that I nearly passed out from the pain.
I should have known from that first slap before our daughter was born that there was evil in him. I had seen glimmers, shadows of what lay beneath, hidden in the dark recess of his eyes. That flicker of rage that was bursting to come out and play. I should have known back then that my babies and I were in danger, but I wanted to believe in my dream. I wanted to trust that he loved us and would never hurt us. So, I chose not to see the danger coming my way and hoped for the best.
Like most women, I made all the pertinent excuses.
