On Her Watch (Bree Taggert)

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER ONE

The fairy tales in Jen’s imagination leaned toward the dark, Grimm variety, but in the real world, the worst monsters looked like everyone else.

Fear tasted like pennies: cold, dry, and metallic. The bitter tang hovered in the back of her throat, blocking her breath as she eased her bedroom window open. Night air wafted through the gap. She smelled the woods behind the house and the lingering smoky scent of a neighbor’s barbecue. The wooden window frame of the old house groaned, and she froze. Her heart banged against her breastbone so hard it hurt.

Her sister slept like a corpse. Jen wasn’t worried about waking her. But she couldn’t wake her parents.

She shuddered. She couldn’t even think about what her father would do if he caught her. He’d warned her—if she got into any more trouble, she’d regret it.

Sweat broke out under her arms as she strained to listen. Through the open window, she heard an owl, but inside the house, all remained quiet. She pressed a palm to her chest, where her pulse scrambled like a cornered mouse, and willed her heartbeat to slow. She swallowed, then inhaled.

Keep going.

She gave her room a final glance. Her sister snored in the second twin bed. A few dolls and toys lined the top of the bookcase. Jen hadn’t played with any of them in years, but their presence gave her comfort. The books she’d miss more, but they were too heavy to carry. She didn’t know where she’d be staying. Better to pack light.

She was used to not having many possessions. She was used to being hungry. But going from poor in her family to poor and alone felt worse.

She continued slowly raising the window. When it was fully open, she leaned over the sill and lowered her backpack and duffel bag to the ground below with a rope. She hoisted one leg out, then the other, and slipped onto a branch of the tree near the window. She climbed partway down, then dropped, keeping her knees soft. Her sneakers landed on the grass with barely a thud.

It wasn’t the first time she’d sneaked out, but it would be the last. She couldn’t decide how that made her feel. Relief and sorrow vied for equal footing. She would miss her home, her sisters, her mom, maybe even her dad. She loved him, even if he also terrified her.

She scooped up her bags and ran toward the street. At the corner, she stopped behind a huge oak tree, turned, and looked back at the house. The windows remained dark. Gnats swarmed around her face, and she waved them away.

For one heartbeat, regret seized her. She wasn’t ready to leave her childhood behind, but she didn’t have a choice. She had to leave.

She clutched her backpack to her chest. From this moment forward, it contained all her possessions, including the $400 she’d saved from her summer job. She thought about going back and telling her mother, but then ruled it out. Daddy was the head of the household. Mom always did what he said. Even her sisters couldn’t be trusted not to tell. Her stomach recoiled when she remembered how Daddy had reacted when she’d been caught shoplifting last month.

But she’d been hungry. Poverty was relentless, and she was tired of it.

“No excuse,” he’d said. His cold calm in the police station had shifted into hot rage the second they were home. Her cheek burned with the memory of the slap that had knocked her off her feet.

No. Daddy could never find out.

She turned, jogged three blocks to the park, and looked for her ride. Would he even be there? He’d promised, but she didn’t know him that well. If he didn’t show, what could she do? She couldn’t even call him. Her cell phone sat on her nightstand. Too risky to bring it. Her father could use it to track her down. He’d done it before when she’d missed curfew. For a few seconds, she relived the humiliation of being dragged from a friend’s house, all the other kids watching. She knew she was supposed to obey her father, but she couldn’t summon a scrap of guilt for wanting to have friends.

When she turned the corner and saw the car, relief made her knees wobbly. She raced to the car and got in, pulling the door closed with a slam that sounded final enough to bring hot tears to her eyes.

“You OK?” He reached across the console and patted her hand. “You’re sure no one followed you?”

“If my father followed me, you’d know it. He’d probably shoot you.” She was only half kidding. She leaned back against the headrest. She should feel safe, but anxiety swarmed in her belly like wasps.

It was done. She could never go back. Tonight’s decision could never be changed. It was as permanent as a tattoo. She wouldn’t finish high school. She wouldn’t go to prom. If she ever got married, her mother wouldn’t help her into her wedding dress. Her father wouldn’t walk her down the aisle.

The man started the car and drove out of the lot. The dim light of the dashboard highlighted his profile, the shadows making him look harsh. At the main road, he turned onto the country road that led out of town.

“Where are we going?” She pressed a fist to her burning solar plexus. Stress seemed to be eating a hole right through her.

“I told you,” he said in an irritated voice. “I have a place you can stay tonight.”

She watched the miles roll by as they left Grey’s Hollow behind. “How far?”

“Far enough,” he snapped.

“I’m sorry.” She knew too well how to placate a hot temper. “You’ve been great. I just worry about my dad finding me.”

He glanced at her, his hand opening and closing on the wheel as if he were making a fist. “Don’t worry. No one will find you.”