Page 111 of Thaw My Heart

The sound of Sadie’s voice humming through the air snaps my attention. Yelling and cursing at the drivers for taking cattle that, quote, “Do not belong to them.” Being that wild and outspoken woman I know her to be.

The one I adore.

I’m laughing under my breath as I approach her, warm with emotion at how much she cares about this place. At how quickly she is to join in with the others and make threats for the sake of Lone Pine. For the safety of our cattle.

Her words, not mine.

Blake, Ryker, and Wes stand solemnly behind her, loving this moment too, but definitely not as much as me. Maybe I’m not ready to take on this ranch, but with her beside me, maybe I could be the man Cole needs me to be.

Maybe this place could be home.

Our home.

One year ago…

My husband, Markus, grabs me by the throat, choking me until I feel like I'm going to pass out. I’m pinned against the bathroom counter while he screams at me through clenched teeth. His breath reeks of beer and something foul. A cigarette hangs from the corner of his mouth, suffocating me in the smoke.

I struggle to find something to knock him out with, grasping a toothbrush, a plastic soap container. Finally, my fingers wrap around a pair of scissors I’d just used to trim my long bangs. Apparently, cutting my bangs meant I was cheating on him, which I never have and never would, regardless of how awful he is to me.

I drive the sharp end into his ribs.

“You fucking bitch!” he screams, staggering back.

I make a run for it, but then trip on the bathmat, falling hard on my knees. He grabs my arm, pulling me up. In one swift strike, I jab my elbow into his face. Allowing me about one minute to escape.

I haven’t fought back in a long time, not since the last time he added a few more cigarette burns to my back. But tonight I’m not going to let him win. I can’t live like this anymore, and I will not let him make one more scar.

I’ve been planning this for months, but nothing is happening like it’s supposed to. He wasn’t supposed to come home early, but when he walked through the door and saw the packed bags that I had yet to load into my truck, all hell broke loose.

Fox cowers by the front door. “It’s alright, Foxie. We’re leaving this place,” I scoop her up with shaking hands, fumbling for my purse hanging on the wall. I snatch a small suitcase from the floor full of whatever would fit, and then I’m sprinting to my vintage Ford truck. I don’t even know if the tires will make it, seeing as they haven’t been changed in years, but I have to try.

He’s tried to keep me here for too long.

We lived in a small suburban home in Valentine at the end of a cul-de-sac. A small forest curved with the driveway, setting the house further back from the rest, allowing for more privacy. Still, there are a few prying eyes from the nosy neighbors this evening, but none of them would dare interfere with a police officer. A rightful man of the law.

After setting Fox down on the passenger’s seat, I double back to slash a tire on his fancy black sports car. Retrieving a serrated pocket knife from my suitcase before driving it in deep. Then I slash a tire on his police cruiser, too, just to make sure he can’t follow me.

Markus bursts through the front door, yelling out to me as I hop back into my truck, locking the doors behind me.

“Emma! You get out of that fucking truck right now,” he demands, using a voice that’s too calm and collected. His officer voice.

He knows we’re being watched.

My body trembles beneath me, shaking my head. The metal tang of blood fills my mouth from the cut on my bottom lip. There’s no way I’m getting out of this truck.

He approaches my truck window, placing his hand on the glass. My body reacts with a flinch at how close he gets. “Baby, please. We can talk about this,” pain radiates from his voice. “You know I love you.”

Tears fall from my eyes. Despite how awful he is, he did love me—in the way that he knew how. Our suburban home is full of nice things. Expensive things we could barely afford with his mediocre salary in this mediocre town. After a fight, he’d buy me something pretty, parade me in front of his friends, give me tender kisses on the cheek, and make me feel like the most perfect wife…

But behind closed doors, he was a different man. Every dinner I burned, or shirt I forgot to iron, he’d snap, turning into the man I feared. Markus loved perfect Emma, but he didn’t love the real me.

I’m far from perfect.

“Come on, now. Get out of the truck,” he taps the windshield. “I’ll make it right. I’m sorry. I just… I just love you too much, baby.” He’s trying to say all of the right things, playing me for a fool, like he always does. “You just make me crazy, Emma. You know you do.”

Because he always blamed me for the reason he hit me.

And that’s when I feel the shift in me. The girl who will never stop fighting, rising to the surface.