Chapter 24
One year ago…
My husband, Markus, grabs me by the throat, choking me until I feel like I'm going to pass out. I’m pinned against the bathroom counter while he screams at me through clenched teeth.
His breath reeks of beer and something foul.
A cigarette hangs from the corner of his mouth, suffocating me in the smoke.
I struggle to find something to knock him out with, grasping a toothbrush, a plastic soap container.
Finally, my fingers wrap around a pair of scissors I’d just used to trim my long bangs.
Apparently, cutting my bangs meant I was cheating on him, which I never have and never would, regardless of how awful he is to me.
I drive the sharp end into his ribs.
“You fucking bitch!” he screams, staggering back.
I make a run for it, but then trip on the bathmat, falling hard on my knees. He grabs my arm, pulling me up. In one swift strike, I jab my elbow into his face. Allowing me about one minute to escape.
I haven’t fought back in a long time, not since the last time he added a few more cigarette burns to my back. But tonight I’m not going to let him win. I can’t live like this anymore, and I will not let him make one more scar.
I’ve been planning this for months, but nothing is happening like it’s supposed to. He wasn’t supposed to come home early, but when he walked through the door and saw the packed bags that I had yet to load into my truck, all hell broke loose.
Fox cowers by the front door. “It’s alright, Foxie.
We’re leaving this place,” I scoop her up with shaking hands, fumbling for my purse hanging on the wall.
I snatch a small suitcase from the floor full of whatever would fit, and then I’m sprinting to my vintage Ford truck.
I don’t even know if the tires will make it, seeing as they haven’t been changed in years, but I have to try.
He’s tried to keep me here for too long.
We lived in a small suburban home in Valentine at the end of a cul-de-sac.
A small forest curved with the driveway, setting the house further back from the rest, allowing for more privacy.
Still, there are a few prying eyes from the nosy neighbors this evening, but none of them would dare interfere with a police officer. A rightful man of the law.
After setting Fox down on the passenger’s seat, I double back to slash a tire on his fancy black sports car. Retrieving a serrated pocket knife from my suitcase before driving it in deep. Then I slash a tire on his police cruiser, too, just to make sure he can’t follow me.
Markus bursts through the front door, yelling out to me as I hop back into my truck, locking the doors behind me.
“Emma! You get out of that fucking truck right now,” he demands, using a voice that’s too calm and collected. His officer voice.
He knows we’re being watched.
My body trembles beneath me, shaking my head. The metal tang of blood fills my mouth from the cut on my bottom lip. There’s no way I’m getting out of this truck.
He approaches my truck window, placing his hand on the glass. My body reacts with a flinch at how close he gets. “Baby, please. We can talk about this,” pain radiates from his voice. “You know I love you.”
Tears fall from my eyes. Despite how awful he is, he did love me—in the way that he knew how.
Our suburban home is full of nice things.
Expensive things we could barely afford with his mediocre salary in this mediocre town.
After a fight, he’d buy me something pretty, parade me in front of his friends, give me tender kisses on the cheek, and make me feel like the most perfect wife…
But behind closed doors, he was a different man. Every dinner I burned, or shirt I forgot to iron, he’d snap, turning into the man I feared. Markus loved perfect Emma, but he didn’t love the real me.
I’m far from perfect.
“Come on, now. Get out of the truck,” he taps the windshield. “I’ll make it right. I’m sorry. I just… I just love you too much, baby.” He’s trying to say all of the right things, playing me for a fool, like he always does. “You just make me crazy, Emma. You know you do.”
Because he always blamed me for the reason he hit me.
And that’s when I feel the shift in me. The girl who will never stop fighting, rising to the surface.
Screw him.
“No,” I whisper, putting the truck in reverse.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he warns.
“Goodbye, Markus.”
With that, I slam down on the accelerator, hearing him scream my name as the truck whips around, nearly hitting a tree before taking off, heading out of the cursed cul-de-sac and onto the main road.
Driving fast and far away from Nebraska towards no place in particular, except far away from the city.
I reach over and give Fox a pat on the head, telling her it’s going to be okay, that we’ll never have to fear him again.
My heart pounds in my chest as I glance in my rearview mirror, half expecting the lights of his car to flash behind me, but there’s nothing but velvet darkness and a satisfied smile on my face.
Because by the time he changed his tire, I’d be long gone.
My eyes burn from the tears threatening to break, gripping the steering wheel in refusal. I’m not going to cry for him. After the eight years of hell I spent loving a man who would never change, I’m not going to let this break me.
I refuse to let it break me.
The stars shine above me, twinkling in the moonless night. I think about the new life in front of me. A new home, a new town, new friends—real friends. And I’m going to need a new name.
The name Emma is worn out.
My nightmares kept me awake last night, rolling around for hours in Kit’s giant king-size bed. As well as my irrational thoughts of him staying at Alaska’s house, stuck in a snowstorm… like some kind of romance novel.
Except he’s supposed to be here—with me.
A scary revelation of my attachment to him that didn’t sit well in my gut last night. But luckily, there was a bottle of bourbon in the cupboard that washed away those fears quickly before they could take hold.
Fears about getting too close. Getting too personal.
I’m happy with this comfortable thing we’ve built, but there are lines, and considering his past, I think we were both comfortable never crossing them.
But the fact he said he missed me last night…
well, that was unexpected. I was only being playful with my comment, but I’m pretty sure Kit was being honest.
A thought that made me pour another glass of bourbon.
My mind is a scrambled mess by the time the sun drifts in through the frosty windows. It’s still early, but I’m already showered and ready for the day, feeling slightly hungover and anxious.
I’m one of the first people to arrive at the main barn, alongside Blake and Wes. Warm golden light filters through the trees as the sun rises from behind the mountains.
“Good morning, Sadie,” Blake greets me before lighting up a cigarette in one fluid movement.
My body freezes, heart pounding. After all the time I’ve spent with him, I’ve never seen him smoke. He didn’t smoke out in the fields, and well, at Elkhorn Tavern, you weren’t allowed to. How did I not know?
His eyes snap to my curious stare. “You want one?” he offers.
“No,” my throat swells. “No, thank you.”
Blake says something else, but his words sound like they’re underwater. My gaze is too transfixed by the orange glow pulsing at the tip, the smoke that floats in the crisp air. The smell alone takes my mind to the darkest places as I tuck my arms in tight.
An arm wraps around my shoulders, jolting me. “You’re here early,” Ryker grins, with a cigarette in the corner of his mouth. “Is Kit making an honest woman out of you?” he teases with light dancing around in his brown eyes.
My stare burns into him, suddenly uncaring about my fear of what’s in his mouth, but more afraid of what the hell he’s implying. “Excuse me?”
He squeezes me, hugging my shoulders tight before letting go.
“I’m kidding,” he blows out smoke, finishing the last of his cigarette.
“Just promise me you’ll have a big wedding.
Not some private, no-frills thing the way Kit would want,” he wags his finger at me.
“Weddings are great places to meet people, if you know what I mean,” he winks, bumping his arm into mine.
The fuck did he just say?
“Ryker, leave the poor girl alone,” Blake growls at him.
Wes nods, stroking his scruffy facial hair. “It’s too early for her to have to deal with your bullshit, Rye.”
I can’t even take in their words over my racing heart and racing pulse. My mind is drowning. My heart hurts to the point of pain like I’m being crushed under the weight of an anchor, pulling me down under the depths.
The cigarettes.
The mention of marriage.
Does Kit want that?
Everything inside me wants to run far away, to escape the fear, but as I turn to walk away, five B-double trucks come barreling towards the main barn.
Thank God.
Whoops and hollers cut through the air as more cowboys gather around, preparing to help unload. Ryker and Wes join in, briskly walking away.
“Sadie, you alright?” Blake places his hand on my elbow. “Ryker’s just being a pain in the ass, per usual. Don’t take him seriously.”
Maybe he is. Or maybe there’s truth to his words.
Rage burns under my skin. I point to the trucks. “Are these the assholes who took our cattle?” My voice shakes unsteadily.
Blake smiles warmly, crinkling his eyes. “They sure are.”
Good. This would be the perfect target for my anger.
The truck driver I’ve chosen to corner is baffled, dumbstruck as he takes everything I dish out to him.
It’s probably not my place, but no one stops me or dares to interfere.
It’s damn near therapeutic as I threaten this asshole to try this again.
And with the cowering look in his eyes, I don’t think he’ll be too keen.
“Sadie,” his familiar voice snaps my attention, calming the violence in me. The bright blue of his eyes finds me. It’s as if time stops as he approaches me. He smiles, and I can’t help but smile back.
“You’re back,” my voice comes out breathless with the way he’s looking at me. Full of adoration.
“I’m back.” He stops in front of me, taking my hand. My heart thrums in my chest. His thumb brushes the top of my hand, pulling me back into the sweet little bubble of ours, as if nothing else exists.
Boots crunch in the gravel, snapping my attention to the surrounding cowboys gawking and smiling in our direction.
Is Kit making an honest woman out of you?
Anxiety stirs in my gut. I pull my hand away.
“What’s wrong?” Kit’s dark brows pull together.
But I don’t know how to say the words. Hurting him is the last thing I want to do, but this is becoming something I’m not ready for. The bubble is perfect, but let’s face it, I’m falling for him. And it’s too much. My breaths come out shallow, like I can’t get enough oxygen.
“Did you eat too many marshmallows?”
Just that one silly question eases my mind, pulling an anxious laugh out of me. “Maybe,” I rock on my heels.
He smiles, and my heart skips a beat.
“There’s—there’s work to do. I need to get moving.”
He assesses me, like he can see my fear. “Okay,” he murmurs with a faint smile. “Later, then?”
“Later,” I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear and walk away, trying to refocus my mind on the day ahead rather than the fear building in my heart.
“Tequila,” his deep voice calls out once more.
I twist around, letting out a breath to face him.
His slow gaze starts from my blue cowboy boots, trailing to my eyes. “You look beautiful today,” he smiles.
Blush rushes to my cheeks, and my throat swells.
“I just thought you should know,” he adds before coolly walking away. He barks at the men standing around gawking to get to work. They scatter instantly, boots shuffling in the gravel.
My feet stay frozen, stuck in a daze.
He said those words loud enough for everyone to hear, as if he didn’t mind at all.
As if he did it on purpose.
Soft snow falls from the sky, brushing my nose as I stare after him, watching him approach the trucks. Ryker is there the next second, talking to him about something with a big smile on his face. Kit smiles back at him, and just the sight of his smile makes me lose track of time.
“You ready, Sadie?” Blake calls out to me. “Or do you want to watch him for a little longer?” He teases, pulling his mouth up into a smirk.
With a curt nod and warmth in my cheeks, I follow him.
The hours drag on as I force myself to get through the day. Trying not to let my fears control me. It’s been a long time since I’ve had nightmares, and it slowly feels as if they’re eating me alive.
After a full eight hours of shoveling snow, deicing water tanks, and feeding extra feed to the herd, I find myself alone in Kit’s living room, drinking herbal tea to calm my emotions before he arrives.
As if herbal tea can fix this, but I don’t think that more bourbon is going to help me.
After a few sips, I open a new bag of marshmallows, shoving as many that will fit into my mouth. Feeling relief almost instantly at the sugar rush.
Ryker invited us over to watch football tonight, a distraction I probably needed. However, Kit thought it would be nice to do it here, because his place is bigger. Proceeding to ask me what I thought about it. I don’t know why he felt the need to ask me for permission.
It’s his place.
But it only confirmed that the bubble between us is slowly and surely going to pop.