Page 50 of Redemption
“What did he say? Are you okay?”
I shake my head as new tears well up in my eyes. I wipe them off and busy myself with the coffee, handing her a cup.
“He can’t stop Christian. Salvatore doesn’t want me dead anymore, but he can’t stop Chr—” My voice breaks and I can’t end the sentence.
“What are you gonna do?”
“I need to leave. Today. And that’s where I need you. I really, really need you.”
“I’ll do anything, Kerry. You know that.”
I nod.
“You have relatives somewhere else, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I have a cousin in Chicago.”
“Can you help me get there? Can they help me settle in? I just need a couple of nights until I find something of my own.”
“I’m sure he’d let you stay months. As long as you needed.”
“I have money. I’ll arrange something, but I just need to land somewhere.”
“I’ll talk to him.”
“And… This… this is a lot to ask, but can you come with me? Co-drive with me? I’m afraid to go alone. I never drive a car.”
Chloe snaps her mouth shut and stares at me, then she looks out the window, her gaze turning distant. “Right, that’d take like three days... minimum.” She chews on her lip, frowning. “We’re gonna need to stay at least two nights somewhere… I’ll rent a car, leave it there and fly back, or I’ll die.”
“I don’t want to be seen in public, or buy a ticket for anything in my name. I really need to disappear.”
Chloe smacks a hand on the table, making me flinch. “Pack up, girl. We’re doing it! When do you want to go?”
“I need the day to prepare. As soon as it turns dark. It feels better to not leave in daylight, somehow.”
She stands. “I’ll be ready. Call me.Finally,you’re doing something! I’ve been soworried!”
“I’ve— I’ve lived in a bubble, I never thought somehow… But he came back and… things have changed.”
My thoughts stray to the little life inside me, the life I need to protect at all cost. But no one needs to know of it. Not even my best friend. I don’t know what the future will look like, where I’ll be a few years from now, but this is my reality right now, and leaving is the only reasonable thing to do at this point.
When Chloe leaves, I begin to pack, frantically rushing around, pulling open drawers and wardrobes, throwing makeup and cleansers and whatnot into a bag until I realize I haven’t used any in ages, pick them up and throw them in the garbage bin instead. Why does anyone use makeup? To feel pretty. I don’t want to feel pretty; I want to be invisible.
I call Chloe at ten p.m. Twenty minutes later, she knocks. I’ve been pacing my living room with my nerves in a knotted bundle, my two suitcases ready, standing right inside the door.
“Ker, it’s me.”
I spring to action, open the door, give her the bags, lock up and hop into the minivan. Thirty seconds after I opened my front door, it’s locked and we’re on our way. I can only pray to a deity I’m not sure exists, or that at least hasn’t been watching over me lately, that Christian isn’t out there somewhere, watching.
Late that nightor early the next morning, in a small motel by the side of the road, outside some nondescript, run-down town, I dream of Christian for the first time.
He doesn’t come to kill me. Pushing me up against the wall, he somehow rids me of my clothes and pushes his fingers inside me, thrusting, filling me, spreading me open. His dark eyes never let go of mine. They’re lethal, dangerous and yet tender, searching, asking a question that I have no answer to. My heart pounds—it’s not fear I feel, and it scares me more than anything.
I startle awake, sweaty, panting, my pussy aching. Still half in the dream, I realize I still want him and it makes me double over in pain. Not only can’t I have him, he can never have me, or I’ll die.
It was unfathomably stupid to tell Salvatore, but I didn’t think.
Covering my belly, pressing my palms over the little thing in there, I wonder what Christian will feel when he learns I’m carrying his child. Somewhere I hope it’ll hurt him, that he’ll feel the loss just as much as I feel the loss of my whole life.