Page 26 of Escape

Fuck, years.

“Huck, I’m getting out,” she assured me. “I have a plan, and I’m working to make it happen. I just need more time.”

“More time for what?” I questioned her.

“To be sure I do this the right way. I can’t risk making a mistake,” she answered.

“Honey, I don’t think you can risk being where you are,” I shared, my voice gentle.

“You have to trust me. I’ll be okay. I’m so close to having what I need.”

“What do you need?”

She shook her head slightly. “Just a few more shifts.”

“Money? You need money?”

“I can only save so much of my tips from each shift,” she explained. “But I almost have enough to get my own place. And I’ve already decided that once I move out, I’m going to come and see you at work. I want you to teach me how to defend myself.”

There was the part of me that was relieved to know she wanted to do something about her situation, that she intended to get herself out of it. But the other part of me just wanted to fix it for her. “I can give you whatever you need. Let me get you out of this.”

She shook her head. “I can’t let you do that, Huck.”

“And you think I can let you go back to a place where you aren’t safe?” I countered.

“You don’t have a choice,” she murmured.

That’s when it hit me. This wasn’t my decision to make, no matter how much I wanted that to be the case. Before she left here today, I had to convince her. I didn’t want to risk the possibility of this asshole putting his hands on her again.

I needed a plan.

So, allowing her to think I’d acquiesced, I suggested, “How about you finish your pie for now?”

“Okay,” she agreed.

The thought of putting any food in my stomach made me sick, but if it meant I was going to have the opportunity to keep her here until I could figure out how to fix this, I was going to eat the pie. And I was going to make it look like I was savoring every bite while my head was filled with thoughts of what I intended to do to this guy when I got my hands on him.

SIX

Josie

Thirty minutes.

It had been thirty whole minutes of the most unbearable interaction I’d ever experienced with Huck Davidson.

I’d always known him to be nothing but a sweet, kind, and compassionate man. I’d never, not once, seen him angry.

Not like this.

Sure, when he’d learned the truth about what was happening in my home life with my father when I was in high school, it was clear Huck wasn’t exactly happy.

But this wasn’t the same.

This was… this was unlike anything I’d ever seen.

And if I was honest, I wasn’t entirely sure Huck fully understood what he was feeling, either.

Despite the heightened emotions on both sides of the table, Huck seemed to be doing a good job of restraining himself. One thing I could say with absolute certainty was that even if Huck was experiencing some level of anger about the situation, there wasn’t an ounce of it aimed at me. We were sitting with some tension between us—it was rolling off Huck in waves—but I didn’t fear for my safety. I never felt that way around him, something I knew I’d be eternally grateful for.