Page 20 of Corrupted Bride

But Don Nardo made it clear that he would prefer to keep her in the dark until the last second.

I’m not entirely sure why, but I don’t want to risk fucking this up.

What I’m doing is bigger than me. It’s bigger than her too.

Only that look on her face, the sinking expression, the embarrassment…

I’ve hated myself for a long, long time.

I can handle self-loathing.

But I will make sure my wife is taken care of, even if she hates me for it.

7

MARI

Ishimmy under my bed and pause to wriggle sideways. I reach out and dig my fingernails into the hidden hatch sawed into the drywall under my headboard. It pops out and I’m able to shove my arm through until I feel a black duffel bag tucked away in the darkness.

“Got you, bitch.” I slide it through, tugging once until it comes free. I jerk up and hit my head on the bed slats and I’m groaning as I crawl out into the light.

The duffel is simple nylon. Nothing special. I found it in the back of my closet and figured it’d be good enough. I stare at it and let its weight settle in my lap.

This is the future.

Slowly, I unzip it, and sigh.

Inside is cash. Lots of cash. As much cash as I’ve been able to hide away, every single extra dime and dollar.

Plus some clothing, shampoo, trail mix, deodorant, and a few other beauty products I might need.

My go-bag.

I add another thirty dollars to the stack and sit with it a few minutes longer.

This is my weekly ritual. It’s a way of reminding myself what’s at stake. I push through the clean items until I find an old, soiled flannel shirt, cut for a man, way too big for me. The collar and front are stained with blood, turned blackish brown now from years of setting and oxidizing.

Another reminder of what might happen if I fail.

I close my eyes and try not to think about that day, about how it was the best and worst of my life. Hours where I felt free, and minutes when it all came crashing down. I clutch the flannel, and I don’t even miss the man who wore it, not really, not anymore.

But I miss the girl who was with him.

Back when she believed she could be anything she wanted.

I’m older now. Scarred and wiser. And I won’t make the same mistakes again.

There’s a knock at my bedroom door. “Hold on!”

The knob rattles. “Did you lock it? What are you doing in there?”

“Cruz, I said hold on.” I shove everything into the duffel and slide it under my bed. I’ll put it back into the hiding spot later when he’s gone. “I’m getting changed.”

His nose is wrinkled when I open it. “Changed into that?” He gestures at my sweats. “Real cool.”

“Shut up, idiot. What do you want?”

Cruz’s confident grin fades as he runs a hand awkwardly through his hair. “Uh, I was hoping we could talk.”