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Seeing him again causes me to physically ache. He’s not smiling like I’ve grown to love seeing him do, but his ever present hat was there atop his head. I turn in my seat to watch the vehicle for as long as I can before it disappears from view. He didn’t notice me in the back of the car, but why would he. The bigger question that plays out in my mind is why was he on my road?
Did he leave something on the water tower? Did he go there looking for me? I let question after question roll around in my mind. I torture myself with the what if’s of it all until my stomach is twisted in knots. I know I can’t let myself be trapped into this marriage, and this church.
Sometime around midnight, when I’m certain my parents are fast asleep, I sneak into their room. For a moment, I think my plan won’t work when the dresser drawer creeks as I open it. I get the drawer open thankfully and what I was searching for is laying innocently on top of a pile of folded up socks. I quickly grab the small black phone and make my way out of the room, closing the door silently behind me.
The window in my room was boarded up the day after my parents found my hiding spot, so I can’t get outside through it. The front door has a new lock that requires a key from the inside, and I have no idea where that key is. My only option is the small window above the kitchen sink. It’s the only one that didn’t get an upgrade aimed at keeping me locked in this damn house.
Getting the window open without too much noise is easy enough, and there’s no screen on the window for me to remove. The true test will be if I’m small enough to fit through the narrow window. I climb onto the counter and maneuver one leg through the opening, balancing on the ledge precariously. I get an arm and shoulder through the opening next, but there’s nowhere for me to grab onto except the exterior wall. This leaves me in a position of hugging the frame of the window like a koala clings to a tree.
I almost panic and give up, fearing I’ll get stuck. The thought of that hideous white rag I was made to try on gives me the strength I need to try pushing my head and the rest of my body through the window. It’s a tight fit but I manage it. Only, once the majority of my weight is on the outside of the window, I lose the light grip I had. I go tumbling to the ground, straight into the rose bush beneath the window.
Not caring about the cuts I now have on my exposed arms and face from the thorns, I make sure I still have the phone tucked into my pants pocket and take off running toward the water tower. It’s not until I’ve made it there and climbed to the top that I dial the number I memorized a few days ago.
The phone rings on the other end.
Once.
Twice.
I nearly hang up, momentarily believing this was a ridiculous idea.
A thicker, sleepier version of his voice comes through the line before the third ring.
“Hello?”
“Emmett, I need help,” is all I can choke out.
“Are you at our spot?” he asks, his voice much more alert now.
Our spot? Yeah, I guess it did becomeourspot at some point.
“Yes.”
“I’m on my way,” he says, and the line goes quiet.
Tears I didn’t know I had been holding in are making paths down my face and landing on my gray sweatpants. The stains they make when they hit the cotton fabric expand into unique shapes with wavy borders. I watch the teardrops make their patterns until arms embrace me and a familiar scent fills my nose.
“Can you manage to get down to my car?” Emmett asks.
I nod into his chest and let him help me up before following him down the tower ladder. When we reach the ground, he takes my hand in his and leads me to the passenger side of his vehicle. As I follow behind him, I notice for the first time he’s not wearing a baseball cap or a beanie. It’s dark outside, but when he gets into the car on his side, I can see his hair is a sandy blonde and cut rather short. It’s even a little patchy in some areas.
Without thinking about it much, I reach out and lightly run my fingertips over a patch of prickly hair. Emmett flinches, and I pull my hand back quickly. His own hands go to his head, as if he’s just now realizing it’s not covered. He turns in his seat and pulls a hat from the back of the car and pulls it on over his head. He remains silent, but turns on the car before reaching over and taking my hand in his and driving away.
He seems far too young to be dealing with male balding, but maybe he has alopecia. I read about that once a few months ago in one of the books at the library. It’s probably best I don’t say anything else, but I can feel an odd tension in the car I’m not fond of.
“Thank you,” I squeak out.
It’s the first words I’ve said since he arrived.
“A thank you is entirely unnecessary, gorgeous, but you’re welcome,” he says and gives my hand a squeeze.
After a few minutes, he pulls onto the familiar path to his barn. The doors are wide open and he drives right in. I go to get out on my side and Emmett places his hand on my thigh, stopping me.
“Wait here,” he says.
Confused, I do as I’m told. We never discussed where he was taking me. Maybe this is a stop on the way to a shelter in Sheridan. I suddenly feel stupid for assuming he would take me in, let me stay on his couch or something. There’s enough money in my bank account for a few nights at a hotel if I stay at the rundown one on the edge of town. I’m not sure what I’ll do when I run out of money though and I’ll run out quickly.
“You coming, gorgeous?”
