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And I would not stop until I got there.
I’d let him win this fight too many times already. Every time he beat me, I accepted his apology the next day. Every time the nurses at the hospital called the police, I told them I’d walked into a door.
Every damn day I stayed.
But not this time.
Not. This. Time.
God, how those words had fucking haunted me.
If I behave, maybethis timehe won’t hurt me so bad.
Maybethis timeI won’t have to go to the hospital.
Maybethis timehe won’t kill me.
Or, maybe this time is the time that he will.
I swiped the stray tears from my cheeks and got to my feet, hauling the now full bag with me out the bedroom door and down the hall to the kitchen. I tossed it on the kitchen counter and took a deep breath, dropping to my knees beside the refrigerator and shoving my hand underneath it. Brian didn’t allow me to have a cell phone or my own money, so it had taken some creative work to get enough information and funds together to finally make my move.
Dust and grime covered my hand as I pulled out note after note that I’d stashed under there. It came from fake doctor visits where I’d told Brian I was seriously ill, knowing he wouldn’t have time to take me to see anyone. I got one of the nurses, Margret, who’d seen me at my worst, to print me out a receipt and kept the cash—that, plus dollars and change he’d left lying around the house or that I’d collected when he sent me to buy a few groceries and they’d cost less than he thought. Overall, I’d managed to collect around seven hundred dollars.
It was going to get me out of this small town and on a bus to Boston.
It was also going to pay part of a security deposit to my new roommate—Margret also let me know of a niece she had down there looking for someone to share her apartment.
I was getting the hell out of here.
Today.
That was the plan.
The clock on the living room wall behind me ticked loudly. It sounded like a bomb counting down, reminding me that if I didn’t get the hell out of here on time, things could explode right in my face.
I shoved the money into my duffle before pulling on my shoes and making one last run-through of the mental list in my head.
Clothes.
Money.
Important documents which I intended on ordering new versions of when I arrived.
Everything was done.
I grabbed my bag and stepped outside, my stomach instantly stirring, my heart pounding a little harder—the things which would usually have me second-guessing myself and turning back.
But not this time.
This was it.
The defining moment in my life.
The one where I decided if I was going to let him take it.
Or if I was finally going to live it.
DRAKE
