Chapter Seventy-Eight
Emily
The fact that my gaze is bouncing from Chad to Mackenzie, who’s sprawled on the floor with her hair tossed in all directions, and back to Chad with my heart hammering in my head is impossible to fathom.
He’s in jail. Or he was in jail. He should be in jail. But no, he’s standing like a hulking giant asshole in front of the door.
Did he escape? He had to have. There’s no way a judge would’ve let him out, right?
Get your head on straight. It doesn’t matter how he’s here. He’s here, and you’re stuck in here with him. And no one knows where you are.
Except Lucas. Lucas…. Maybe he’ll call the police station if he can’t get a hold of me. My attention shifts to Grace. There’s no way I’m waiting to find out if Lucas was smart enough to contact Jake to bring the cavalry.
For one, they might not even know that Chad is out of jail. For two, I’m not putting Grace at risk.
“Chad, let them go.” Mackenzie crawls to her knees but doesn’t rise to a standing position.
“There’s no chance of that happening. This bitch’s boyfriend has boxed me into a corner.”
“Listen….” I clear my throat. Think of something. There has to be a way out of this.
“Shut the fuck up.” His beady eyes bore into mine before leisurely traveling down to my tennis shoes and back up to my purple T-shirt, where my chest rises and falls with hitched breaths.
He licks his lips, causing my skin to crawl, and I snap my mouth shut. This is fucking bad.
I’ve never been in their house, but there’s a doorway that leads to the kitchen, and I’m going to assume that there’s a door to the backyard. In front of me is a hallway that likely opens to a bathroom and possibly Mackenzie’s bedroom.
The bathroom is a bad idea. Most bathrooms either have no window, or the opening is too small to get myself and Grace out through. Mackenzie’s room? It’s likely no better option. Neither Chad nor his father would give Mackenzie access to an outside exit.
And to my left, there’s a closed door. The house is small, so it’s probably Chad’s bedroom, which may or may not have a door to the outside. Bile rises in my throat. I’m not about to step foot in that room.
That leaves the kitchen exit.
Chad’s phone rings, causing a muffled curse word to pass his lips. He yanks the phone out of his pocket. “Yes?”
As he listens to whomever called him, Mackenzie tips her head toward the kitchen two times while extending her index finger and pointing to the open doorway.
The voice on the other end is indecipherable, but from the loud, barked tone, it’s someone who’s clearly pissed at Chad. Good. I’m not the only one.
Mackenzie’s attention never leaves her brother, but her movements seem to confirm my suspicions that my best chance at fleeing is to get outside through the kitchen, scream at the top of my lungs, and bust down Laura’s back door.
If Jake is right about her curiosity, she’s probably already staring out her front window wondering why my car is parked at the curb.
“It’s not my fucking fault–” Chad’s jaw flexes in anger as whoever he’s speaking to interrupts any excuse he was getting ready to dole out.
I take a step toward the door as Grace stirs under the blanket. Don’t cry, Baby. Don’t cry. The last thing I want is for Chad to remember she’s here.
Mackenzie motions again, so I take another step as Chad’s face goes crimson all the way to the tips of his ears.
His eyes are wild with rage as he puffs out his chest. “Listen up, Fuckface. I didn’t intend to lose the fucking dope, and I sure in the fuck didn’t mean to get arrested. I’m sorry that everything is delayed, but I’m out now, and the supply will return to normal.”
He grinds his teeth together as he shifts away from me. When he gives that opening, I tread closer to the open doorway. With each step forward, my heart thunders in my ears as sweat trails down the middle of my back.
I was stupid, careless, irresponsible. I continue to berate my decision-making skills as the baby carrier slides against my slick, wet palm. Of course, I’d decide to rush to the rescue. Doing everything by myself. Again. Rather than calling for help. When will I ever learn?
“I’ll get the fucking money back.” He tosses the phone to the floor and stomps on the screen, causing a crunching sound to fill the room. Somehow, I hear my bones cracking instead of the phone screen.
His head jerks up. “What’re you doing?”
“Nothing.” I stand completely still as Mackenzie shifts on her knees.
That’s when I realize his attention is fixed on her and not Grace and me. Thank God.
“I’m getting up.”
“You know the drill.” He marches toward her. His heavy boots thudding on the floor with each stomp of his feet. “You don’t get up until I tell you to.” He kicks her in the face, sending her head flying backward. “Or did you forget?”
“No.” Tears fill her eyes as she lands on her backside, skidding across the floor. “I didn’t forget.” She says the words through clenched teeth and tilts her finger toward the doorway. Again. “I was going to get you a phone from the closet.”
He braces his hands on his hips and studies her as if he’s trying to determine if she’s honest with him or stringing him along. He flips his hand over, palm facing upward, and sweeps it toward the hallway. “What’s taking you so long?”
“Right.” She scrambles to her feet. Her hair falling over her face, hiding the dark red splotch where the sole of his boot hid her cheek. “I’ll get it. Sorry, Chad.”
“Always the obedient little dog, aren’t you?” he scoffs. “You kick it, and it still wants to please you.” His jeer turns into a deranged laugh like he thinks he’s funny. He’s the only one in the room who does. That, I can guarantee.
As Chad stalks toward her, she straightens her spine, tosses her hair over her shoulder, and meets my gaze. ‘Go!’
I don’t have to hear the word from her lips. I can see it plainly in her eyes. She’s provoking Chad to provide me the distraction I need to get Grace and me out of the house and away from this dangerous person.
With their backs toward us, I slide sideways two more paces until the side of my shoe touches the flaked, fake gold piece that holds the dingy carpet in place. This is it. I square my shoulders and inhale. I can do this. I must do this.
If I can get away, I can get someone here to protect Mackenzie.
To get her away from Chad once and for all, because there’s no way she can pretend that this isn’t what it is.
He controls her. He beats her. He berates everything she does.
And she needs to get away from him before he snaps and doesn’t stop.
Mackenzie hobbles into the darkened hallway as Chad hovers at the edge. It’s sick the way he watches her every move.
I’m going to be sick. Tears sting my eyes. Please don’t let Chad be Grace’s father. I swallow down the first taste of acidic bile that’s trying to coat not only my throat but also my mouth.
I turn on my heel and survey the Formica table with the three mismatched, lopsided chairs.
The cushions are cracked with dirty gray stuffing pocking out from the blemishes.
He’s a drug dealer, used to raking in large sums of money, yet he can’t be bothered to buy three matching chairs? With the stuffing still inside?
That’s the hill you’re going to stand on? Get your head out of your ass and get out of here before Mackenzie is beaten so bad she’s unrecognizable.