Page 104 of A Little Luck

Lord knows he scared the pants off me.

“The first time he hit me, I said I was leaving.” Her eyes hold mine. “The next day, he showed me the suicide note he’d written in my handwriting. He told me if I loved you, I’d never threaten him again. He wouldn’t let me shame him. As if a man who beats a woman has any reason to be proud.”

My throat knots, and my voice is too tight to speak.

“I knew then what I had to do.” She reaches out and clasps my hand. “The only way to get us to safety was to fake our deaths and start all over again.”

She says it so simply, like it’s as easy as going to the store or running an errand.

“If we’d had family who could help us, maybe that would’ve made a difference, but we didn’t. After that, I made a point never to need a man again. I made a vow to myself, and I kept it.”

“I don’t remember any of this.”

Her expression warms. “You were just a little girl. It was so easy to play a game, hide-and-seek, and we got as far away as we could. We stayed off the grid. I homeschooled you until I found Gwen, and she brought us to Eureka.”

“But what about my real dad?”

Blinking down, she smiles briefly. “I’m not sure where he is. I’m not even sure who he is, if I’m being honest.” She exhales a little laugh. “It was a crazy summer, and I had several adventures.”

“Are you saying you pulled aMamma Mia?” Shaking my head, I rock back on my ass. “Cass is going to love this.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It means you’re a ho.”

“Don’t slut shame me!”

“Sorry. Forget it. We’ll sort that out later.” I look around the small space. “You can’t stay down here.”

“I have to. Gwen will let me know when it’s safe to come out.”

Pressing my lips together, I frown. “You’re letting Gwen handle it?”

“Of course.”

My face falls into my hands, and I exhale a laugh. She’s the original version of me, and I know from personal experience telling her to go to the police or even to come out of hiding would be like telling me these things back then.

“You remember Marshall Gregg, the detective? He works for the sister of Ethan’s second wife. She’s hoping you might help her bring him to justice.”

“That doesn’t happen.” Mom turns the gun on her lap. “Even if they believe you, even if you get a restraining order, do you know how many abusive husbands end up killing their wives?”

I swallow the knot in my throat. “Yes.” I do.

“Then you know it won’t matter.”

I know it too well.

The sound of feet crunching fast over gravel outside makes me jump and almost scream. Mom clutches her hand over my mouth and scoots me behind her.

Lifting the gun, she pulls the hammer back slowly, quietly cocking the gun, and aims it directly at the door. My heart beats so hard, I’m going to vomit, and I curl my fingers in her puffer coat.

Our bodies are so close, and for the first time in a long, long time, I let her protect me.

“Martha?” It’s Gwen’s voice, and we both exhale loudly.

Mom lowers the gun. “We’re here!”

Britt’s mom leans her curly brown head down to peer in at us. “He’s dead.”