Page 12 of Against The Tide

“I need you to get dressed, okay?”

Iris does as she’s told, putting on the pink leggings and sweater I hand her.

“I’m scared.” She’s sobbing as she watches me pull out handfuls of clothes and throw them into one of her swimming bags.

“It’s okay, baby.” I manage a smile that curdles my insides with every second I hold it in place for her. “Go get your toothbrush.”

The entire time I’m throwing essentials in the bag, I’m asking myself why I didn’t do this earlier. Why did I wait? Why didn’t I pack our bags and leave before he got home?

Why? Why? Why?

Maybe he’s right. Maybe I am useless. Stupid. Worthless.

Maybe no one cares, not even Rafe, but right now he’s my only option. I pull the phone from my pocket, cringing at the crack on the front as I flip it open and call the only number stored on it.

“Avery?”

I drag in a breath about to ask for help when Carl appears in the doorway, hands tucked in the pockets of his slacks as he comes closer.

“Put the phone down.”

Carl’s whacks the phone out of my grasp before his hand molds to the curve of my neck, guiding me out to the bedroom silently.

“You always got to fucking ruin everything,” he says with disgust, pushing me back onto the ottoman at the bottom of Iris’s bed.

My awkward fall lands me on the floor. My mouth connects with the leg of the furniture, and all I can taste is the metallic tang of my blood as it seeps into my mouth and dribbles down my chin.

“All you had to do was be a good little wife…a good mother… I didn’t want much.”

His foot connects with my side. Again and again, the hard soles force the air from my lungs, busting down the floodgates behind my eyes.

All I can do is curl up as he falls to his knees in front of me. A hand knots in my hair while the other squeezes around my throat, dragging up to my jaw as he spits words that ring in my muffled ears. “Why do you have to make me do this?”

I can only hold his blurred stare.

Why did I stay?

Silence freezes the stagnant air. My bladder threatens to go, my stomach turns, and all my extremities fuzz.

Why is he silent? I ask myself just as he chuckles darkly.

“We’re not quitters, are we, Avery?” The low rumble of his voice is soft. “Quitting is losing. I don’t lose. Never have, never will.”

The hand on my face squeezes, the tip of his thumb pressing to my sore flesh.

“I didn’t marry a whore, did I, Avery?” He pats my face roughly. “You ever talk to him again and I’ll kill you.”

His words are silk, smooth and easy, but the threat is undeniably real. He means it. The glint in his eyes assures me that he’ll follow through. And if it wasn’t for the fact that I have Iris to think about, I would scream at him to do it.

Carl stands and drags me to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. It takes me too long to get back up onto my feet and show Iris that I’m okay. She’s in a full-blown panic when I try to calm her down.

I manage to get her to stop crying in time to hear the door of the office down the hall slam closed.

It’s now or never. If I don’t get us out of here now, I don’t know what will happen.

“We’ve got to be quiet, okay?” I take her little hand in mine; it feels so small. Smaller than I realized as we walk through the closet, picking up her bag on the way out.

Blood is still trickling down my chin, and at this point I’m certain that the only thing keeping me going is adrenaline. The only thing silencing me is fear and sheer determination to get us out of here.