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There had been red flags.
So many red flags.
Sodamnmany red flags.
But I’d been so lonely, and he’d paid attention to me.
So, I forced myself to act colorblind. The red was green, and I insisted to myself that everything would work it.
It hadn’t worked, obviously.
And now, here I was.
Trapped in an abusive relationship.
I had stopped trying to hide the bruises, and everyone at work had stopped asking about them. I’d tried to leave… and he had chased me.
Repeatedly.
If I tried to leave again, there was a good chance I wouldn’t survive it.
My parents and older sister were held captive by their drug addictions, so they wouldn’t help me unless I offered them money. And unfortunately, Allen controlled that too.
I had nothing, and no one.
Even if my google search had brought me to the black market, I wouldn’t have been able to pay for the new life I needed.
My phone buzzed again.
And again.
And again.
I fought the urge to throw it into the damn river.
The texts were more of his usual:
Allen: Who are you with?
Allen: What are you doing?
Allen: I’ll be there in ten minutes.
Tears welled in my eyes, and I pushed my long, damp blonde hair off my face.
A woman sat down on the bench beside me, but I didn’t look her way. I was so tired of lying about being okay.
“What’s your name?” she asked me.
“Rory,” I said quietly.
“Pretty. I’m Serae.”
If she was asking about my name, she wasn’t asking about the bruises, at least.
“You’re crying, Rory,” the woman added.
My throat swelled.
