Chapter Thirty-Five
Elise ~ Eighteen Months Later
One week after John got married, Robert gave me free rein to leave the house. Maybe he thought there wasn’t a threat, now that John had a bride, and he held my baby as leverage.
He was wrong.
All the months he’d confined me to the house had given me nothing but time. I spent it watching, listening, learning, and planning. Getting the lay of the house, knowing where the creaks in the floorboards were, and all the blind spots became my obsession.
I knew one day there’d be a catalyst, a point where I needed to escape, so I learned my surroundings. Robert shouldn’t have left me to my own devices so often. I watched Julia Roberts in Sleeping with the Enemy, and an idea was born.
Okay, so I didn’t have a mentor who could teach me self-defense, but I did have a gym I used twice a day to build my strength. The World Wide Web had begun to take off. Of course, Robert needed to have all the new gadgets as a status symbol, and so he installed computers in our home. I found some videos that gave fighting and boxing instructions.
I was probably still way out of my league, but I learned to pack a punch.
A lot had changed in the last year, except my heartbreak, that bitch never left me. Then, one day, Robert came home and took great pleasure in telling me John had gotten married and his wife was pregnant.
My beaten, shredded soul died that day.
Hope had kept me alive. Hope had got me out of bed in the mornings, and hope had kept me putting one foot in front of the other on the days I wanted to die.
But hope left me, and I didn’t get out of bed for a month. Robert brought a private nurse into the house and put me on a drip, so I didn’t die, but it wasn’t because he cared about me. It transpired his father was retiring, and Robert wanted to take his place as mayor. A dead wife would lose him votes, though personally, I thought at least he could command the pity vote.
The only thing that stopped me from taking a hundred pills was my Constance.
Her daddy may have given up on me, and me on him, but I would never give up on her.
Robert drip-fed me the occasional photograph, enough to keep me compliant. My daughter was beautiful, and in the pictures, she laughed and smiled and played, so I had to be grateful for that.
Constance looked just like John. She had dark hair and golden eyes, but her sweet face also contained a hint of me, especially around her eyes. She had a mole just below her bottom lip, a little larger than mine, a trait passed down from my mother’s side of the family. I also saw Connie in her, and that made me happy.
Robert began to get a little complacent—though he had me right where he wanted me, so why not? To help his election campaign, he arranged for me to volunteer at Baines Memorial.
Also, soon after we were married, Robert had begun to force himself on me—not often—but still, being at the hospital meant I had access to contraception. The thought of having a baby with him made me ill. I may have let my John down in lots of ways, but I was determined the only child I ever had would be by him.
For months, I’d tried to think of ways to get a coded message to John without being detected. Robert told me he had somebody in the clubhouse, so I couldn’t stroll in and demand a meeting. It was harder than I thought. My car was tracked, and Robert had given me a cell phone, which he called frequently to pinpoint my whereabouts, but I didn’t know if he’d planted a bug in it, so I only ever used it to pick up calls from him.
The fact was, I was still a prisoner. My cage was just bigger.
Still, I could play the long game.
After some time, I tested the waters and began driving to Main Street to buy personal items. I even stopped for coffee, until one day, I saw Iris walk past the coffee shop with a pretty dark-haired woman pushing a baby boy in a stroller.
John’s wife.
John’s son.
My stomach roiled, and a wave of agonizing pain hit me square in the chest until I couldn’t breathe. I stumbled out of there, somehow got to my car, locked myself inside, and had a full-blown panic attack while my heart shattered all over again.
Talk around town was that she was sweet, if a little kooky, but I found I liked that for him. God only knew my John needed to loosen up sometimes. The thought of them together ripped me in two, but it wasn’t quite as agonizing as the way I broke when he died. I could handle him being happy with somebody else, even building a beautiful family, because at least he was alive.
Though admittedly, he was lost to me forever.
John had a family, and I knew him well enough to know his loyalties ran deep. He would never leave her or his son. He would never stray or falter. If times got hard for them, he’d either bury his head in the sand or, if she proved to be worth it, he’d work at making things right.
What he’d never do was ever touch me again.
I had to accept it.
John had moved on.
With a churning stomach, I stared unseeingly into my cup of coffee. I’d just dropped some paperwork off at Robert’s office and, of course, studied it first.
What I read sickened me.
I always knew he was a monster, but now I knew he was the Devil incarnate. Evil, warped, and vile. What he was involved in was way bigger than me. I needed help, but I didn’t know who I could trust. Robert had spies everywhere. Half of them didn’t even know they were spies. The week before, Monica Barrington mentioned to Robert that she had seen me somewhere he wasn’t aware I’d be.
My scalp and stomach were still bruised from where he’d beaten me black and blue, and the inside of my thighs were still tender from where he’d done even worse.
The local sheriff lived in Robert’s pocket, probably through monetary bribes or even blackmail. Every person I knew who held a sliver of power was in his social circle and, again, probably kept in line through business deals or blackmail.
Still, I had to think of something.
My mind was furiously contemplating this when the bell above the coffee shop’s door jangled, and a beautiful husky voice exclaimed, “Oh, Xander. Don’t make me castigate you.”
Slowly, my gaze lifted, and suddenly, my heart plummeted, and bile filled my throat.
It was her, Adele Stone.
I closed my eyes because I immediately understood why she was John’s.
She was filled with a light so bright it burned my retinas.
John’s girl was perfect for him.
My arm automatically went to my chair where my purse hung. I swung it off and went to stand but was stopped by a soft touch to my arm.
“Don’t go,” Adele pleaded. “I’ve wanted to meet you for so long.”
My eyes lifted and caught her blue ones sparkling with concern. My breath caught in my throat because, who did that? Who conveyed every feeling that way? How could she be so open when I was so guarded and closed?
“Can I join you?” she asked. Before I could reply, she’d unstrapped her little boy from his stroller and plonked him in my lap.
A gasp tore through my throat as I stared, shocked, into golden eyes identical to John’s.
I blinked.
He blinked back at me.
I blinked again.
His little face broke out in a toothy, yet gummy smile.
And my insides melted.
“He’s incredible,” I breathed.
The sound of a chair scraping assaulted my ears. “He is,” Adele agreed, her husky voice filled with humor. “He also doesn’t sleep, chews on my titty like it’s made of rubber, and throws fits when he can’t get his own way.”
I looked at her and blinked again.
Then, I did something I hadn’t done for two years.
I laughed.
Adele beamed at me. “Everyone told me you were beautiful, and you are. But when you laugh like that, you’re a goddess.” She waggled her eyebrows. “I see why John loves you so much.”
My heart stopped.
“See,” she continued thoughtfully. “People look at love like it’s a pie. They think there are only so many pieces, and once you’ve served a slice, it’s gone forever. So, they protect their slices and only give out small parts because they believe there’s not enough to feed everybody. I see it differently. I see love as a flow chart. All the different colored lines meander, cross, meet, and pass each other. They curve up and dip down. There are no limits, no bounds. You can add as many lines as you like, and you can love as many people as you want, all at the same time, and in different colors and different ways.”
“That’s beautiful,” I breathed.
She smiled, and it lit her entire face up. “You’re still a line on John’s flowchart, as am I,” she nodded to her son, still in my arms, “and Xander.” She sat back in her chair. “The club, Abe, Iris, and the baby in my stomach, but, Elise, you have to understand, there’s always enough to go around.”
My eyes flicked to her rounded belly, and my heart wept. Not because Adele was pregnant again, but because I yearned for my Constance. Leaning down, I inhaled Xander’s clean, baby scent, and you know what? It eased my pain just a little because, suddenly, I was so fucking happy that my John had this sweet boy and an incredible, kind woman in his life.
I couldn’t wish Xander or Adele’s new baby away. It would be like wishing my Constance away, too.
My stomach filled with a newfound sense of determination.
Somehow, I’d find my daughter, and I’d get her safe. Then, I’d bury Robert Henderson, even if I died doing it.
Adele checked her watch and bit her lip worriedly.
My eyebrows snapped together. “Are you okay?”
Her forehead furrowed. “Iris was supposed to meet me here for coffee, then take Xan and me back to the clubhouse. She’s late, and it’s not like her.”
“Do you want to call John?” I asked, going to my bag for my cell phone just as Xander let out a loud wail.
“John’s in Church,” she replied, leaning over to stroke her son’s head. “They won’t disturb him in there, or Abe. I need to get back. I’m starting to get worried.”
Carefully, I stood, before gently placing Xander back in his stroller.
Robert was at a meeting and wouldn’t be back for hours or even tonight. Maybe I could get away with what I was about to do, though I didn’t care if he beat me. It was a way of life for me now.
“Come on,” I murmured, clicking the straps of the stroller together to secure baby Xander. “I’ll take you home.”