16. Chapter 15
Chapter 15
Blake
Hours have gone by, and I still haven’t brought myself to leave. My bags are packed and in the trunk of the car and yet I have sat idly by while watching Charlie play with Hunter out in the front yard. Her laughter is intoxicating. But something has been off all day with Hunter. There is a sadness in his eyes each time Charlie laughs, or the way she grabs his hand and pulls him through the yard.
I have a feeling once I leave, I won’t see Hunter ever again. For some reason, the thought of that pains me to no end. It will be like these past two days never happened.
Can I actually go back to my old life and act like nothing happened?
My phone dings beside me, pulling me from my thoughts. It’s a missed voicemail, and I put it to my ear. My mother’s whispered voice begins. Panic rises and I quickly stand up. Hunter notices and starts walking my direction.
“What’s going on?” he asks with a concerned look. He leans against the railing of the deck.
I shake my head. “I’m not sure.” I put my phone on speaker and point it at him so he can hear better.
My mother talks about how she is stuck in a closet and scared. Something about Craig, trashing the house in a furious rage. I gasp when I hear a male scream in the background.
Hunter and I make eye contact when the line goes dead. I check to see when the voicemail was sent, and it looks to have happened sometime last night. My hands visibly shake as I stare at the phone in horror. “I have to go check on her.” I rush into the house and grab my purse from the couch.
As I walk back outside, Hunter grabs me by the arm. I yank myself free. “Stop it!” he yells. “Just give me a minute, and I’ll go with you.” He holds my stare for a moment longer and then rushes into the house.
I spot Charlie still in the yard playing and call to her. “Come on, baby.” I motion her toward the car, and she gets up from the ground.
She bounces through the yard until she reaches her side of the car. “Where we going, Mama?”
“We are going to see, Nana.”
She gasps and jumps for joy. “Yay, I miss Nana.”
“I bet you do, baby.” It has only been a couple of days, but she is at her house every day of the week and has never missed one.
I am in the driver’s seat, and Charlie is strapped into her car seat when Hunter reappears carrying a backpack of sorts. Instead of getting in the passenger seat, he walks over to my window. I roll it down.
He leans in. “I’ll follow you on my bike. Don’t speed and be safe.” He cups my cheek. “She is going to be okay, Blake.”
I bite my lip and nod. What else can I do? We don’t know that she is okay for sure, and I won’t know anything until I see her with my own eyes.
We make it to my mother’s house in record time. My anxiety has been through the roof the entire way. I don’t know what I will be walking into and the thought of her hurt—or worse— scares the shit out of me. Hunter’s bike rumbles behind me as we pull into the driveway. Her front door is wide open and there are items thrown across the front yard. The sight is a hard one to see.
“Why is Nana’s favorite chair in the yard?” Charlie asks from the back seat.
I startle. I forgot she was back there seeing everything I am with her innocent eyes. Fuck. Craig did a number on my mother’s house, and it’s all my fault.
Hunter turns off his motorcycle and walks up to my window. I crack it a little. “Are you ready?” He looks down at me.
I shake my head. “What if she’s hurt and I didn’t answer the phone to help her? What if she is dead, and it is all my fucking fault?” How can I ever forgive myself if something terrible has happened to her? There is no way I can go back to Craig now. Not after what he has done to my mother.
Hunter doesn’t wait for me to get out of the car; he just opens my driver door and leans inside to unbuckle me. Then he pulls me out himself. “Listen here—none of this is your fault. Not a single bit of what happened here. This was all on your husband, and you need to stay strong for your child.” He wipes the few tears that trail down my face as I suck in air through my nose.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
He lifts my chin. “Stop apologizing, and let’s go see how bad the situation is.”
I look at Charlie in the back seat. “What about her? I don’t want her to witness anything terrible if it is worse than it looks. But I can’t leave her in the car.”
He looks around the street and spots an old woman watering her plants next door and points at her. “Do you know that woman?”
I follow his finger and spot Mrs. Annie. “Yeah.”
“Do you trust her?”
I nod.
He walks around to Charlie’s side of the car and helps her out. Then, hand in hand, they walk over to Mrs. Annie’s house and have a conversation with her. I watch as she smiles and nods, and then she and Charlie go around the side of the house where her other plants are. Hunter walks back my way.
I raise my brow. “I could have gone inside alone, you know.”
He shakes his head. “If it is bad in there, I didn’t want you to have to face that alone.”
Something about the way he looks at me when he says that makes my heart swell. It’s like he actually cares about me, and I don’t know what I think about that.
We make our way through the front door and immediately spot my mother vacuuming her rug in the living room. I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders seeing her alive and well. “Mom?” I say from the door, and she gasps, almost dropping her vacuum.
Her face lights up when she sees me. “Oh, hunny. You’re okay!” She puts her vacuum down and pulls me into her arms.
“I am fine. I was worried about you after your voicemail.”
She pulls back so she can look at my face. “Yeah, Craig did a number on the house,” she says with an awkward chuckle.
I look around the room to survey the damage. There are multiple holes in the wall and down the hallway. Her TV has been pushed over and smashed. Multiple pieces of furniture have been turned over on its side and there looks to be powder of some sort all over the carpet.
I wince at the sight of her bedroom door. My house must look similar if he came all the way here and tore up with one out of anger. What am I going home to? Is there anything left for me to go home to, to begin with?
Terror rises in the back of my throat as the thought of Craig standing behind our screen door, waiting for me. Or worse… watching me here and now, like a bait house. He used my mother for bait!
I quickly walk toward the front door and shut it, closing all of the curtains as well. If my mother’s house looks like this, I can only imagine what my house looks like. My house? I don’t even have a house anymore. I have nowhere to go. Nowhere to live. I have to make this right.
“Mom, this is not a laughing matter!” I bite the inside of my cheek. She could have been hurt! Craig could have fucking hurt her!
She waves her hand at me. “Oh, please. Don’t tell an old woman what she can and can not laugh at. This is all just material things. They can be replaced.”
I shake my head. “I’m so sorry I didn’t contact you sooner and tell you what was happening. Then maybe—”
“Sweetie, stop that nonsense right now. I don’t blame you. This was all Craig and only him.” She looks over at Hunter, her expression wary, as if she’s sizing him up, assessing whether he’s a threat or an ally. Then she turns back to me, raising a brow. “Does this mean you have left him for good this time?” She raises her brow.
Her words hit me harder than I expect
She has never liked Craig, even from the start. She always told me he was a narcissistic little shit, but I never believed her. Not until I had proof—not just in bruises and broken things, but in the way my body flinches when someone moves too fast, in the way my mind is still trying to justify going back. But even now, even with all of that, the idea of truly leaving terrifies me.
Because if I leave, then what?
I’ve spent years making myself small enough to fit into Craig’s world. I’ve learned how to speak softly when he’s angry, how to walk lightly so the floorboards don’t creak, how to disappear when I need to. If I’m not his anymore, then who am I?
A weight settles in my chest, suffocating.
I look over at Hunter, who is standing strikingly still with a grim look on his face. And even though his look brings me pause, I turn back to my mother and say, “I think I have.” The words feel foreign in my mouth, like they belong to someone braver. But as soon as they’re spoken, something shifts inside me.
Relief.
Speaking them out loud is like unlocking a door I didn’t even know was there. A door to something I’ve never had before— freedom.
The front door swings open with a creak, and Hunter walks outside. Panic flares inside me.
Where is he going? Why is he leaving?
I go to follow after him, by the time I step onto the porch, he is already rounding my car and swinging his leg over his motorcycle.
I stop short, the cold air biting my skin as the engine roars to life.
The sound vibrates through me, and suddenly, I feel so stupid for expecting anything else.
Of course he’s leaving.
Why would he stay?
I was never his problem to begin with.
My mother walks up behind me and places her hand on my shoulder. “Where is your friend going?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure.”
My chest tightens, my pulse erratic, and I force myself to stay still. To not run after him.
Because running after people doesn’t stop them from leaving.
I know that better than anyone.