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Tears filled my eyes. “If you take me back, he’ll beat me again, knowing I ran, and this time he might not stop.”
“Addy, I don’t think—”
“Arturo, please.” I cut him off, my voice shaking as much as my body. “Just take me to Lakeside. Anywhere in Lakeside. I’ll figure out the rest from there. I won’t tell anyone you helped me. No one has to know.”
He stared at me in the mirror as my heart thumped wildly, his expression telling me nothing. Ripping his gaze away, he prepared to drive and jerked the shifter.
I turned my head to the side as the vehicle started moving. My eyes welled with tears that burned, but the rest of me was cold. So cold.
“I’ll do it.” He exhaled heavily. Putting on the blinker, he steered the town car onto the street.
“Thank you,” I said, injecting forgiveness for all the times he’d looked the other way into those words.
But Arturo didn’t say anything, and he didn’t look at me again. He just drove.
Shivering, I stayed quiet, praying he wouldn’t change his mind.
Addy
“What the hell happened to you?” Winston Skellin asked, glaring down at me as I dripped all over his welcome mat.
After Arturo dropped me off a street over, I’d walked up the Skellins’ drive, pushed the buzzer at the gate, and Martin’s father had buzzed me in. I was soaked to the bone, so cold I couldn’t feel my extremities.
Curling my fingers into my palms, I stared right back at the arrogant man. “Your son happened to me.”
He frowned and started to close the door. “Well, you can go right back to him, young lady.”
I wanted to tell him about the beatings, the twisted sexual games, the humiliation I’d been forced to endure, but he wouldn’t care. If I’d learned anything from Martin, it was that I had to negotiate from a position of strength. I had to offer Winston what he most wanted and work my way up from there.
“I have something you want.” I cranked up my chin. “We need to talk.”
“What’s going on?” Grace said, appearing beside her husband. When she saw me, her hand flew to her throat. “Oh my God. What happened?”
“I got caught in the rain.”
I exchanged a narrow-eyed look with Winston when Grace came outside and put her arm around me. It was the middle of the afternoon, and she was wearing a slinky robe. It registered then that her husband was only in his pajama bottoms. I didn’t want to know or even think about what I’d interrupted.
“You don’t have any shoes on.” Her fingers tightened around my shoulder. “What’s really going on?”
“I’m leaving Martin,” I said, proud of myself that my voice was firm. “That’s what you both want, right?” I watched them closely as a puddle formed beneath me.
Grace twisted on the belt of her robe. “I’m not sure Martin would want—”
“That is exactly what we want.” Winston shooed his wife aside. Barefoot, he winced when his toes encountered my cold puddle. “The question is, what do you want?”
Negotiations are open.
My relief was so great that the tight grip I had on keeping it together unwound. Everything overwhelmed at me at once. Winston a towering shadow of displeasure. His mannerisms too much like Martin. He wore the same cologne with the smoky top notes.
“I can’t ... I’m sorry ...” I swayed. “I don’t feel well.”
The floor came up to meet me as I slid down. Everything went black, like the drop of a heavy rain-soaked curtain.
• • •
Sometime later, I came to in a big, dry, comfortable bed.
Glancing around, I realized it was Miranda’s room. Raised voices on the other side of the ajar door drew my attention, probably what had roused me. I recognized the voices. Martin’s parents were arguing. I could just make out their shadows in the hall.
