Page 13 of Thirteen Years
I stood up shakily, fixing my pants, and hurried back to my room. This was proof that I needed to disappear. Get somewhere safe and file for divorce, then change my name and run. He couldn’t know about the baby. The courts would take his side, he would get partial or full custody. He knew people and I was no one.
That was even if I survived this marriage long enough to give birth.
When I got back to my bedroom, I took the hottest shower of my life. I laid on the floor sobbing. The water was scalding my skin but I didn’t care because I didn’t feel like I would ever be clean again. Knowing no one would hear me or come save me and that I had to save myself, was so daunting.
Stepping out of the shower, I dressed quickly in black leggings and a black shirt. I grabbed the biggest bag out of the closet and filled it with enough clothes to last me until I got a new job somewhere else. Finally I pulled my jewelry box open and took out my grandmother’s diamond necklace. I could pawn this and pay for a divorce and a ticket to anywhere but here. I pulled a loose floorboard out from under the bed and pulled a stack of cash out that I’d managed to put there before he made us join accounts. Fifteen thousand dollars in cash was all that was left from my parents passing.
Placing the board back and zipping up the bag, I put my ear to the bedroom door listening. The television was still blaring. I opened the door slowly, thanking all the entities of the universe that it didn’t creak this time. Shouldering the bag I moved up the hall and glanced over to the couch. He was gone.
This was it. This was probably the only chance I’d have. I glanced around the apartment and knew I wouldn’t miss a single thing about it.
I looked to where my keys and wallet were supposed to be and saw they were missing as well. He’d gone for more beer. The gas station he frequented was just up the road. I didn’t have long.
Sprinting to the front door and stepping outside, I did the only thing I could do. I took off running.
Now
“And, after a fiasco of court proceedings where he fought the divorce, here we are.” I finished, taking the last drink of my wine.
Monica gaped at me.
“I’m sorry,” I started “I know that was a lot, but you asked, and I figured since you were at Nat’s school you should know, and…”
“Don’t apologize,” she intervened softly. “You needed to get that off your chest. And, the asshat…he doesn’t know about her?” she asked.
“No. We moved every few years. I’d get signs of him tracking us down and would run again. The last town we were in for three years and hadn’t ever gotten a sign, so I moved us one last time to be sure,” I said.
“Wow,” she breathed, “I cannot imagine. You are so incredibly strong, Becks. You deserve so much more than you’ve had given to you. You know that don't you?”
I teared up, smiling at her, “I have Nat. She’s made everything worth it. And hopefully we’re finally done running and I can have a little bit of a life now too.”
“Well, girlfriend, you’ve definitely got a friend in me. Maybe some of your badassness could rub off on me!” Monica chuckled.
I laughed out loud, “I’m not sure it was so much being a badass as it was survival instinct.”
Monica reached over grabbing my hand, “You are a badass, Rebecca Wareman. Don’t ever let anyone tell you any differently.”
I smiled in return, “I think I’ll keep you around, Monica. You’re good for my ego!”
We spent a couple more hours talking about Monica’s past.
I found out she had been married previously and divorced, although she was still in contact with Trevor, her first husband. They’d been high school sweethearts and married young, getting pregnant quickly. He had started drinking heavily and wanting to go to parties all the time. He’d voiced regrets about wasting his childhood and she’d given him an ultimatum. When he walked, she had refused to give him a second-chance. Her older daughter, Lacey, was his, and he had her on alternating weeks as he lived in the area still where he was a firefighter. They had started a hesitant friendship and he was even close with Lucas and Paul now. We chatted until the sun set and I glanced down at my watch, noting the time.
“I think I need to get home to my bed,” I stated. “With Nat being here, I may be able to finish a romance novel I’ve been working on for days.”
“You’ll have to give me the name,” Monica replied, standing and grabbing the empty bottle as I collected the wine glasses, “I love a steamy read.”
I grinned, Maybe I had finally found someone who got me.
After kissing Nat goodnight and promising Monica our next girls’ night would be out on the town, I climbed into my vehicle and started it. Glancing down I noticed the tank was almost empty.
“Dammit, Becks,” I muttered, reversing and heading to the nearest gas station. I hated filling my car up. It was such an easy task but something about it annoyed me.
Once there, after being unable to find my debit card, I leaned against my car watching the numbers rise. I completely zoned out, smiling to myself over the night’s events, and feeling like a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders.
“Rebecca Wareman,” said a deep, masculine voice, causing me to jump and drop my bag onto the ground. I glanced up, meeting Lucas Marshall’s gray eyes.
“I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t mean to scare you, I thought you noticed me pull in,” he said, bending to pick up my bag for me. He looked a little concerned at my reaction, and guilty. I felt bad for making him feel like that just because of my jumpiness.
