Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
Sophia
I smile when I see Cat’s name on the screen.
It’s been a while since we’ve had a good gossip, hopefully she’s kid free and full off good tea.
“Well, hi,” I answer brightly.
“Sophia, hey.” She breathes a sigh of relief.
I don’t like this already. I can feel her stress through the phone line. It’s reminiscent of our conversation in the park – the one that turned my already messy life upside down.
“What is it?”
My eyes dart to the door of the house, which I already know is locked and bolted. Bryson stands outside the door and makes sure I’ve done it whenever he leaves for nighttime training .
My heart is thundering in my chest. I need to take a breath. I also need to talk to my counsellor about this. I thought I was getting this whole trauma response thing under control, but my rapidly rising heartrate would suggest otherwise.
“It’s probably nothing, but I thought I should –”
“Just tell me what’s going on, Cat,” I interrupt her.
“Josh’s probation office has been trying to find him since yesterday, and he’s nowhere to be found. He’s missed his check in, and his weekly drug test.”
My heart sinks into my stomach. That is not what I wanted to hear.
“When did you last see or hear from him?” she asks me softly.
“I um… umm,” I stammer. “Monday? He came over on Monday afternoon to drop off a book that he had for Aria,” I confirm.
“How did he seem?”
I shrug my shoulders before realising that she can’t see me. “I don’t know. I was busy. He didn’t say much I guess?”
“You haven’t heard from him since?”
“No. That was what… three days ago? He’s scheduled to have his supervised time with Aria tomorrow.”
“I need you to call me right away if you hear from him or see him, okay?”
“This sounds serious, is he in real trouble? ”
“He could be. It’s been over a week since his last check in now, I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but that’s long enough for a solid relapse.”
From what I understand, from my many Google searches, is that a day or two is enough for a relapse.
I don’t want to think like that right now. I don’t want to believe that Josh would be stupid enough to turn to drugs again.
He’s been doing so well, or at least he appears to be doing so well. God only knows I’ve been blind to his shit before.
“Will you call me if you hear anything?” I ask her quietly. “Please. I don’t want to be here freaking out if I don’t need to be.”
“Of course. You’ll be the first person I ring if I hear anything.”
“Do you think I should be worried?”
“Honestly, Soph, I don’t know, and that’s what scares me. Josh is unpredictable. I talked to his probation officer about him a bit and he described him as ‘clean but with the potential to be volatile’… that’s not exactly the kind of feedback I was hoping to hear.”
It’s not the kind of feedback I was hoping to hear either. God, my daughter deserves so much better than this.
“Super glad I’m home alone when you decided to call.”
She’s quiet for a few seconds .
“Where’s Bryson?”
“He’s at training. He’ll be back later on.”
More silence.
“Do you think he could come home early?”
I don’t like this. I don’t like it at all.
“Why? Is there something you’re not telling me?” I ask her, doing my best to remain calm.
“Josh’s workmate got released six days ago.”
Fuck .
That changes things, and it also explains why she’s so worried. Josh has been on the straight and narrow – in terms of drugs, anyway, since he got out. But he’s also been separated from everyone tied to their old operation and lifestyle.
His drug buddy being free changes that. I don’t know what kind of man he’s come out as, and there’s every chance it’s not a good one.
“Has he been meeting his parole conditions?”
She sighs. “No. He hasn’t been seen since he got released. One of my colleagues said he knows a repeat offender when he sees one, and that he will undoubtably be one.”
None of this is helping relieve the anxiety I’m feeling.
I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do.
I can’t call Bryson, he’ll be out on the fields by now, and he’ll be there for the next couple of hours. I could call his coach directly if I had his number, but I don’t .
I hope I’m worrying about nothing, maybe Josh and his mate are somewhere far from here, hiding out and shooting up their veins – in the worst-case scenario.
Maybe Josh went camping and just forgot he’s meant to check in with his parole officer. The possibilities are endless.
But the fact that there’s even a chance he could be out there, high as a kite, and with a vendetta against Bryson and me, is enough to make me feel concerned.
“You don’t think he’d try anything, do you?” I whisper.
“You know what? I think I’ll come and hang out with you until Bryson gets home from practice.”
I guess that answers my question.
“You don’t have to do that. I can call my dad if you think I need to.”
“No,” she tells me quickly. “It’s okay. We can catch up and drink hot chocolate and watch a movie or something. We haven’t had a good gossip lately; it’s a perfect chance.”
I want to be brave and tell her that she doesn’t need to worry, that I’m fine, but honestly, I don’t feel fine. I feel scared. My palms are sweaty and my spine is tingling, and I know I’d feel better having some company. I feel bad about the idea of hijacking her evening, but it would be nice if I didn’t have to tell my parents what’s going on and then have to listen to my dad rant about Joshua all evening.
“That sounds nice.”
“I’ll be there in ten,” she promises me.
We’re two cups of hot chocolate, and three episodes of Desperate Housewives deep, when her phone rings.
I’m so glad she came over tonight, I relaxed so much I pretty much forgot all about Josh, and I’m starting to really believe that it’ll all get straightened out and be fine, just like Cat says it will.
“It’s Caleb,” she tells me before answering her phone.
They have a short conversation and then she hangs up, frowning.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Nothing major, apparently Noah woke up and he must have had a bad dream or something, he’s asking for me.”
“Aw poor Noah. You should go home and get him settled.”
She glances at the time on her watch and frowns deeper.
“Go. I’ll be fine. Bryson is probably on his way home by now anyway.”
I grab my phone from the couch and check the notifications, and sure enough, there’ s a message from Bryson telling me that he’s leaving training and will be home in fifteen minutes.
“See.” I show her the screen of my phone. She visibly relaxes.
“Alright, I’ll shoot off now then if that’s okay? I’m really sorry, but Noah will be a wreck for his basketball tournament tomorrow if I don’t get him back to sleep soon.”
“Of course. Don’t be silly. You didn’t need to come in the first place, so don’t stress.”
“Doesn’t hurt to be cautious.”
She starts collecting up our cups, but I brush her off. “Leave that to me. Go, seriously.”
She puts the cups down and gets to her feet, glancing at her watch again. “I can wait until Bryson gets home if you want me to?”
“Get out already, woman, he’ll be here in ten minutes.” I laugh.
She gives me an apologetic smile and leans down to one-arm hug me.
“Okay, alright, I’m going. See you later!”
“Bye! Thanks for babysitting me!” I call after her.
She laughs as she leaves out the front door. I hear the click of it relocking behind her and listen as her engine starts and then disappears down the street.
I put our cups in the sink, and muck around in the kitchen for a bit before heading down the hall to Aria’s room to check on her .
I push open the door to her room, and peek in on her in her cot.
She’s sound asleep, her perfect little lips puckered and moving ever so slightly every time she breathes in and out.
She’s seriously the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
I take another long look at her, and pull the door closed behind me.
I can’t wait for Bryson to get home, so I can really decompress and fully relax in a way I only seem to be able to achieve in his presence. That’s how I know that he’s the man I’m going to spend the rest of my life with, because the minute I lay eyes on him, all my worries just melt away.
I glance at my watch and decide that I might be able to quickly get the basket of clean clothes folded before he arrives. I grab it from the floor and carry it into the living room with me, tipping it all over the couch.
I’ve only managed to get five things folded before I hear the sound of a key in the front door.
I drop what I’m doing, and head for the door to let him in, but my step falters when I hear the sound of shoes inside the entryway.
I realise, too late, that I didn’t redo the bolt on the door after Cat left. I’m going to be in big trouble, he’s always lecturing me about it.
“Don’t be mad at me!” I say with a laugh.
“It’s a little bit late for that,” a voice that isn’t Bryson’s speaks back to me .
Shivers of fear race up and down my spine instantly.
I know that voice. I know it all too well. It’s definitely not the voice I want to hear from inside my house, while I’m here with only Aria and me.
I feel the chill of total and absolute terror right deep into my bones as Josh steps around the corner, into my line of sight.
No .
My baby.
That’s all I can think about. Aria . And whether or not he’s here to cause harm to her, or me. God, I hope it’s just me. I’d let him put my head through the wall if it meant he’d leave her alone, safe and sleeping.
This couldn’t be any worse.
She’s here, stuck with me in this nightmare, and I know I can’t protect her.
He takes a step towards me, and I immediately take one backwards. The feral look in his eyes makes me want to throw up. I’m not stupid enough to even consider that he comes in peace. Nothing about this interaction screams peace. It’s all terror.
“What are you doing here, Josh?” I ask, trying to sound strong.
He smirks at me, and flicks his tongue around his mouth, like it’s too dry in there or something.
I really see it then – the way his eyes look. He’s high. There’s no doubt about it.
Not only is he high, but he’s mentally unstable .
I can feel the crazy in the air.
“I waited for her to leave, so we could be alone.”
It’s not cold in here, but my body is covered in goosebumps.
“You can’t be here.”
“I’m already here.” His expression is menacing.
He takes another step towards me, and I take another back, like we’re doing a dance step.
My brain starts desperately searching for a way out of this. For a way to survive. I’ve always been resourceful; I need to call on that skill.
Maybe I can stall him. Bryson can’t be far away now. Surely only a matter of minutes.
I know realistically my life could be over in a matter of minutes. If he wanted to, he could kill me within seconds, but I can’t think like that. Not with Aria here. I’m all she’s got.
I glance at the clock on the wall. He tracks me doing it and sneers.
“Waiting on your fucking shit stain boyfriend?”
I don’t answer him.
“He can’t fucking help you now, bitch. You’re on your own.”
He looks insane, and more than that, he looks like he wants to really hurt me. I have no doubt that’s what he’s come here to do.
My mind races, desperately trying to find a way out of this.
I could try and fight him. I could attempt to inflict pain on him, but I doubt it will work. He’s bigger than me, stronger than me and definitely a lot more deranged.
I’ve got no resources at my disposal. I’m virtually backed into a corner.
I try to picture the room behind me, thinking of anything and everything I could possibly use as a weapon.
The fireplace.
It’s Bryson’s voice I hear in my head, telling me what to do.
Get to the fireplace.
I slowly move backwards, never once taking my eyes off the predator in front of me.
“You need to leave. He’ll be home any minute,” I tell Josh. I can hear the wobble in my voice. I’m failing at looking strong.
His grin grows wider – catlike. He likes that I fear him.
I think it would please him if I ran away from him. If I begged and pleaded. But I won’t. I won’t give him the satisfaction of any of that.
The only thing I’d ever beg for, is my daughter. I pray he doesn’t know that – that he hasn’t figured out that the only real way to hurt me, would be to hurt the people I love most.
“He won’t like you being here,” I warn him.
“Good. I’m not going anywhere; we’re picking up right where we left off.”
His gaze travels over my body, from my head, all the way down to my toes. He’s looking at me like I’m a piece of meat.
I have to physically stop myself from gagging as shivers race down my spine.
Maybe beating me isn’t the worst thing he could do to me after all.
He strolls into the room, his attention for the first time, on something other than me, and I use the moment to steal a few more steps backwards, until my back is up against the hearth of the fireplace.
The selection of metal fire utensils are on a stand right next to my left foot. I can only hope I’ll be strong enough to turn one into a weapon when I need to.
“I guess if lover boy is really gonna be back soon; we better make this quick,” he drawls, staring at me so hard it’s like he’s looking through me.
He’s off his head high.
I’ve been scared of him before, terrified even, but those times were nothing compared to now. I’ve never been more afraid of anything in my life. Nothing about the man in front of me is familiar, nothing about him is recognisable as the person I once loved – the man I had a child with. This man, the one walking towards me, is evil . He’s the worst of the worst, and if my suspicions are right, he’s been shooting up a bunch of shit that will only make him more unpredictable.
I wrap my hand around the handle of whatever utensil is closest to me and brace myself as he comes closer.
I can’t outrun him.
I can’t truly fight him off.
But I can try and hold out long enough for Bryson to get here. I can survive. That’s the best I can do.
Survive .
I know I have to pick my moment carefully. My life depends on it.
Time slows down as he takes the final step, the one that will bring him close enough for his outstretched hand to wrap around my throat.
I grip the handle tight, and swing, using every bit of strength I can muster.
I’m so much shorter than him, the pointy end of the metal pole hits near his cheekbone, catching him off guard, but not connecting anywhere as hard as I know it needs to. It’s not going to be enough.
“Bitch!” he roars, grabbing at his face.
He looks at his palm and it’s covered in red.
At least I made him bleed.
I feel a sharp pull as the handle is removed from my grasp. He takes it from me so effortlessly, I know in that moment I don’t have a single hope of being able to stop him from doing whatever he came here to do.
He shoves me so hard I fly back into the hearth, hitting my head as I go down.
At least I went down swinging, a voice in my head says.
“You fucking cut me,” he growls as he stands over me. “We could have done this easy. But you have to make everything fuckin’ hard.”
There’s blood pouring out of a gash across his cheek, it’s dripping on me.
I’m getting covered in his blood, but I don’t care. I’m probably going to die here on this floor, but at least they’ll know who did it. The DNA evidence is everywhere.
I can feel my head getting foggy. I think I hit it pretty hard. I groan in pain.
“Weak bitch,” he grunts.
My eyes are having trouble focusing now, but I see him crouch down next to me and feel him tugging at my jeans.
“No,” I try to say as I grab at his fingers, but he just swipes my hand away.
I have to find the strength to do something, before I become another horrible statistic. I’ve already had to accept that I’m a name and number on the domestic violence list, I don’t want to be a rape victim too.
I think of Aria and muster up as much clarity and strength as I can, before driving my knee up and into his crotch.
I hear him yell as everything goes black.