Finding Gwen

Chapter One

“Honestly, what was the point of even hiring a nanny?” my boss screamed. She had been going on and on for the last thirty minutes about how I could never do my job correctly. Her voice was now background noise as I debated whether or not this would be the last straw. I loved being a nanny, and unfortunately, dealing with parents came with the territory.

“Mrs. Watson, I’m going to have to ask you to stop raising your voice at me,” I calmly interrupted, finally able to get a word in. “I would be happy to have a conversation about your expectations if you are willing to do so calmly.” Maybe she would be willing to talk like adults…

“Stop raising my voice?” Her question was laced with sarcasm and hatred. “How hard is it to do your fucking job? Are you stupid?” Nope, nevermind. I had no idea what had put her in a bad mood today, but it no longer mattered. It was time for me to take my leave.

“I believe this is no longer a good fit for either of us.” Her eyes grew big, and she opened her mouth as if to say something, but I continued. “Consider this my formal resignation. I quit, effective immediately.” Gathering my stuff, I made my way toward the front door.

“Gwen, do not walk away from me! Gwen!” I closed the door behind me, not daring to give that woman the satisfaction of looking back.

Not my circus, not my monkeys.

After making it home, I didn’t immediately get out of my car. Instead, I screamed. I had been with that family for over six months, keeping shit from falling apart at every twist and turn. Why did they think it was okay to treat me like garbage? My knuckles tightened around the steering wheel, turning a bright shade of white as the wail finally subsided. Taking a deep breath, I let go, stretching my fingers before turning off the car.

I had parked on the street even though the driveway was empty because my fiancé preferred the driveway to himself. Matt was a car enthusiast, and his red Jeep was priceless to him. I left him to it whenever possible. It was never worth the headache to try convincing him the driveway was more than big enough for both of our cars. Walking up the sidewalk, I hoped I could relax for a few before I needed to start on chores. Bad day or not, Matt would expect dinner to be ready when he got home.

As I made my way inside, a shiver ran up my spine. All the lights were on, the couch pillows were tossed onto the floor, and one of the kitchen stools was knocked over. A loud thump came from the back of the house. Panic washed over me. Had someone broken in? The front door had been locked, but there was still the back door. Setting my bag by the front door, I crept to the closet and grabbed the old baseball bat that my dad gave me when I got my first apartment. I had laughed when he gave it to me, but now, I silently thanked him. The smarter move would’ve probably been to call the police instead of going after whoever had broken into my house, but I was still drunk on rage from this morning. I was ready to start swinging.

Creeping down the hallway, the steady thumping coming from the bedroom gradually grew in volume. As I got closer to the door, grunting joined the commotion. Gripping the bat a little tighter, I reached for the doorknob to the bedroom and began turning it, when a high-pitched moan froze me in my tracks.

“Oh, fuck! Yes, Matt! Yes!”

No, he couldn’t be…I wanted to be wrong, but the sight that awaited me when I opened the door had my stomach flipping. My fiancé was at the end of the bed with his pants around his ankles and his dick buried in some random brunette, doggy style.

“What the actual fuck?” My voice sounded muffled through the ringing in my ears. Matt immediately froze, his head whipping sideways to face me.

“Gwen! This isn’t–We’re not—” He pulled out, trying to take a step, but tripping on his pants. I turned away and stomped back down the hall.

A loud thud sounded from the bedroom, followed by an even louder, “Fuck!” I could only assume Matt fell, and I hoped that he flattened his dick in the process. “Wait, Gwen!”

I heard him trying to get his pants up, his belt clanking as he struggled. Standing at the edge of the living room, I closed my eyes, taking a minute to breathe. Overwhelmed didn’t even begin to describe how I felt at that moment. Rage surged like electricity through my veins, biting at my skin.

His hand on my shoulder had my eyes flying open. Repulsed by his touch, I pulled away, turning to face him. The bat in my hand raised, pointing it at Matt, who flinched slightly as it brushed past his legs. “Do not touch me,” I snapped.

Matt didn’t move, anger flashing across his features. “Gwen—”

“I don’t want to hear your fucking excuses, Matt!” I yelled, twisting to walk away. Before I could take a step, the air left my lungs as I slammed harshly against the wall, Matt’s forearm pinned against my chest. The bat fell from my hand as I clawed at him. My screams to get off of me were cut off by a harsh slap to my cheek. Tears instantly swelled in my eyes. My vision blurred and the last two years of abuse rushed to the surface.

“Lazy bitch… Fucking useless…”Matt always let his opinion be known. The constant yelling most nights had my nerves on edge.

I kept telling myself it could be worse, so I defended him. Then it did. Bruises covered my upper arm from being grabbed too hard, and the first time he slapped me…

But Matt had apologized, bringing home a bouquet of roses like he always did after we fought. He convinced me I was the problem, and I believed him.

Maybe this was my fault, too…

No.

I don’t know when he had stepped away from me, but when I blinked away the tears pooling in the corners of my eyes, he was standing against the opposite wall. “Gwen, I’m–” I put up my hands, his voice trailing off. Bending down, I picked up the discarded bat while glancing at Matt.

“Don’t follow me.” My voice was shaky and barely above a whisper, but I refused to cry in front of him. Flinging open the front door, I grabbed my bag and let the door slam shut behind me. My feet sunk into the grass as I ran across the lawn to my car, quickly throwing my bag and the bat into my passenger seat as I climbed inside and started it up. Driving away, my destination was unknown, but when I came to the end of the street, a familiar car caught my eye.

That fucking asshole…

He knew I would have spotted his car in the driveway and hid it. I pulled up behind the red Jeep and the stupid sticker on the back window confirmed what I thought—it was Matt’s.

Not thinking, I stepped out of the front seat, grabbing the bat. Without hesitation, I swung the bat and made contact with one of his taillights. As I stood there, staring at the red plastic scattered at my feet, all the adrenaline left my body and the severity of my situation finally hit me. I was unemployed and homeless. Fuck.

“That fucking asshole.” Ivy handed me a glass of wine and a bag of peas. Sitting cross-legged on my best friend’s couch, I stared at the glass in my hand as I put the peas against my warm cheek. While driving to her apartment, I had let the floodgates open, showing up to her front door with puffy eyes and a dripping nose. She had immediately wrapped me up in her arms, giving me the biggest hug, before leading me to her couch. I had seen anger in her eyes as she glanced at my cheek, knowing full well it was probably bright red, before she went to the kitchen.

Ivy and I had met in college. To be honest, I couldn’t tell you the when or where. It felt as if we had known each other our entire lives. All I knew was that after graduation, when I moved in with Matt, she insisted on staying close by, so I would always have a friend. “You never know,” was what she always said. Right now, words could never express how grateful I was for my friend’s crazy intuition.

Ivy laid a blanket on my lap before sitting on the edge of the couch with her own glass of wine. This was one of the biggest reasons I loved Ivy: she never pressured me to say or do anything. When I was upset, she simply let me sit in my feelings and held space with me.

“You ready to talk about what happened, sweet pea?” she finally asked.

“I quit my job,” I blurted. “The mom came home and started tearing into me yet again. I decided enough was enough and walked out. When I got home, I found Matt balls deep with another woman in our bed.” I took a drink of my wine, hoping it would help.

“Did he do that?” Ivy gestured to my cheek with her wine glass.

“Yeah, he did,” I muttered. “When he chased after me, begging me to listen to his stupid excuses, I lost it. He pinned me against the wall, and when I screamed at him to let me go, he snapped.” I didn’t stop the tears from falling. Dropping the peas into my lap, I chugged the rest of the wine. When Matt had hit me the first time, I had called Ivy. She wanted me to leave him right then and there, but I couldn’t. “I’m trying to convince myself this isn’t my fault, but what if it is?”

“Gwendalyn Brookes…” Ivy meant business when she used my full name. My fingers flexed around the empty glass in my hand, trying to hide the tremors. Ivy took it from me, placing both our glasses on her coffee table, then sat herself cross-legged directly in front of me.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Ivy.” I buried my face in my hands, avoiding her gaze. When Matt had proposed after three years of us living together, he did it in front of his family. My parents had passed unexpectedly in a car accident when I was in college, so the promise of a new family, even Matt’s, pushed me to say yes. Our relationship wasn’t perfect, but the scariness of the unknown had me staying where I was comfortable. The endless cycle of calm before the storm had even stopped once we started planning our wedding. Well, until today, when I came home to a cheating fiancé and everything started making sense.

Ivy’s hand on my knee pulled me back to the present as she cleared her throat before speaking.

“Gwen, listen. First of all, none of this is your fault. Matt is an asshole. He doesn’t deserve you.” I wiped my face with my hands before looking up at her. “Second of all, I know what you’re going to do. You’re going to take some time to clear your head and figure out what you want. We’ll make a game plan tomorrow. You’re not alone in this. It should go without saying, but you can crash on my couch as long as you need.”

“But Ivy—” I started, but was quickly cut off.

“Nope, not gonna hear it. Plus, now that we found out he’s a cheater, we get to go Carrie Underwood on his stupid Jeep. Should we start with keying the sides or slashing tires?” Ivy asked. I knew she would help me hide a body if I asked.

“I may have already taken my baseball bat to a taillight…” Ivy burst out laughing, and after a beat, I couldn’t help but join in.

“That’s my girl.” Standing up, Ivy walked to the kitchen and came back with the opened bottle of wine. After pouring a hefty amount into both of our glasses, she set the now nearly empty bottle on the table before handing me a glass. Plopping down beside me on the couch again, she pulled some of the blanket off my lap and put it on hers, even though she had a dozen blankets she could have grabbed. Palming the TV remote, she gave me a knowing look. “So, Dexter?”

“Absolutely.”

“To morally gray men!” Ivy held up her cup, and I clinked mine against it, chuckling in the process.

“To morally gray men,” I replied.