Page 91 of Will to Run

“Eh, I didn’t know which way he was going to go. He never seemed to like me. Part of me honestly thought that maybe he was feeling the same pressure from his family to marry me and would feel relieved when I left… at least after the embarrassment died down. It must sound so stupid to you guys, but I was so underwater and so close to everything that I didn’t realize how bad it was. Now I know.” I shrug again.

Bang, bang, bang, bang!

The banging on the sliding glass door makes us all jump, and we look at each other. Who the hell is here… and knocking like that? I get up, and when I see Tripp on the other side of the glass, I gasp. His suit jacket is off, but the white shirt is covered in the dried blood from earlier, and he’s looking unhinged, hitting the glass so hard I’m worried it might break.

“Holy shit,” Hazel says from behind me.

“Go away, Tripp,” I shout.

“Open the door, Elizabeth,” he yells back, his voice muffled but still clear.

I look at the three women who have taken up residence behind me. “You guys should go. He shouldn’t bother you if you go out the front door.”

“Go?” Molly says. “Shut up, Della. As if we’re leaving you to deal with this psycho on your own.”

“Seriously, Del,” Lanie agrees. “Besides, I could take him hand-to-hand without breaking a sweat.”

My head turns to her to question that, but my attention is brought right back towards the door.

Bang, bang, bang, bang!

“I’ve never seen him like this before,” I say. Tripp has made me feel lots of negative things over the past few years, but I’ve never feared him. Now the unmistakable feeling is bubbling up inside of me.

Bang, bang, bang, bang!

He’s going to break the glass.

“Open the fucking door, bitch! I am taking you back to Chicago right fucking now.”

Molly calls the police, but I’m worried for my friends who are refusing to leave. I take a step closer to the glass to appease him.

“Tripp, please calm down,” I say loudly.

“Calm down? CALM DOWN?” he shouts. “My nose is fucking broken. You left me at the altar! I am at the center of the rumor mill in Chicago. No one gives a shit about you because you don’t fucking matter, but everyone sure has an opinion about the fact that a Worthington was stood up by a no-name bitch. You will come back. You will marry me. You will give me children. You were promised to me!”

Bang, bang, bang, bang!

“You don’t love me, Tripp,” I shout.

“No shit. And you don’t love me!” he shouts back.

Bang, bang, bang, bang!

My heart is racing, and I’m worried about what will happen if that glass gives.

“Fine, Tripp!” I shout. For a second, I see a flash of satisfaction come across his face. “Fine, let’s talk. Just stop.” I’m scared that if he has to fight his way in, he’s going to be angrier than if I just let him in.

“No,” the chorus of women shout from behind me.

He grabs the flowerpot I have on my bistro table and chucks it at the door as a last hurrah. It hits the edge of the glass with a thud, and spiderweb cracks radiate out from the point of impact. That’s enough to have me racing to open the door before he hits it again.

Storming in, he grabs my wrist and shakes me. His breath smells of alcohol, and I try to remember if I ever saw him drunk before. “Why the fuck did you do that to me?” he seethes. All the anger he has been holding since our wedding day is pouring out. “You made a fool out of me, and I’m going to teach you a lesson...” He raises his hand to strike me.

I swallow my breath and brace for the impact.

Click.

The sound doesn’t register for me, but I see his face change as he looks towards my friends.