River Wild Page 2

  But, last night, he hit me while having sex with me.

  Or, as I should call it, raping me.

  Because that’s what it is.

  In the beginning, I didn’t realize it was rape. I thought, to be raped, you had to say no. Maybe even tried to fight back.

  I’ve never done either of those things.

  But it wasn’t like I could say no. I was too afraid to. And, if I had told him no, he would have taken what he wanted anyway.

  But I’m glad he beat me the way he did last night because I can’t risk a hit to my stomach.

  Not now. I’m pregnant.

  Pregnant with a baby that he will never know about.

  I only found out a few days ago that I’m pregnant. That’s why I’m finally leaving. Why I finally have the courage to leave him.

  Because it’s not just me anymore.

  I have a child to protect.

  I know people will think I should just call the cops on him. Have him arrested for what he’s done to me.

  But Neil is the police.

  Detective Neil Coombs. Highly respected and admired by his peers. Expected to make Chief of Police one day. He got a Medal of Valor last year.

  Yet he regularly beats his wife.

  I did try calling the cops once, a long time ago, in the beginning. And they didn’t help me.

  Because they’re all as dirty and corrupt as he is.

  So, I’m doing this the only way I can. I’m changing my name, and I’m going to disappear.

  The only good thing about having an abusive bastard of a husband, who is a cop, is when he’s a dirty cop who gets paid by criminals to turn a blind eye to what they do.

  Neil thinks I have no clue what he does on the side. But I know more than he realizes.

  And that dirty money that he gets paid, which he can’t put in the bank, as it would raise questions, he keeps in the safe that he has hidden in the desk in his office.

  The safe he thinks that I don’t know about.

  But I do know.

  And that’s going to be my way out of here.

  I don’t want to take his money. I wish I didn’t have to.

  I wish I could be ethical and moral, but I don’t have any other choice.

  I don’t have my own money.

  Neil has never let me work. At first, I thought it was because he loved me and wanted to take care of me.

  I quickly realized that it was just another way for him to control me.

  If I didn’t have money, then I couldn’t leave.

  So, I’m taking his money, and I’m leaving.

  Neil gets up from the table. I see the gun on his belt, like I do every day, and it still makes my stomach tighten.

  Neil gets his suit jacket from the back of his chair and puts it on.

  I stand and follow him to the front door, as I do every morning. Because I’ve been conditioned to do so.

  But not after today.

  Never again.

  He stops at the door and turns to face me.

  I brace myself.

  His hand lifts to my face.

  I flinch.

  The satisfaction in his eyes slithers through me, and I hate him more in this moment than I’ve ever hated him.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, Annie.” He grips my chin with his thumb and forefinger.

  I tense up as I watch his eyes trail over the bruise on my cheekbone. My split lip.

  Once upon a time, there used to be remorse in his eyes.

  Now, there’s nothing.

  “I got carried away last night. Stay home today. I’ll pick dinner up on my way home tonight.”

  “Okay,” I answer.

  “Good girl.”

  He presses a punishing kiss to my lips, the cut on my lip stinging painfully, but I don’t react to the pain, and I hide the revolt inside me. The sick feeling I get whenever he touches me.

  I just respond to his kiss as I always do. It’s more important right now more than ever not to screw up. I don’t want him to get a scent of anything being different with me.

  He steps back, releasing his hold on my chin.

  I hate you.

  “Have a good day.” I smile. Forced but practiced.

  He opens the door to leave. “I mean it, Annie. Don’t go out today.”

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  Just go.

  He steps through the door. Anticipation lifts my heart rate.

  Then, he stops and turns back to look at me over his shoulder.

  My stomach tightens with fear.

  Not for myself.

  I stopped fearing for my own life a long time ago.

  When you no longer fear death but wish for it, you have nothing to lose. But, now, I’m having a baby; it’s not just my life anymore. I owe it to my child to give him or her the best chance in life.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” he speaks in a harsh voice, brow raised.

  Fudge. Fudge. Fudge.

  “I love you,” I tell him, swallowing nervously.

  He stares at me for what feels like forever, his expression questioning.

  I hold my face and body as still as possible, wishing my heart to slow down its racing beats.

  Then, finally, after what feels like forever, he speaks, “I love you, Annie. Till death do us part.”

  “Till death do us part,” I echo the lie with ease.

  Never, ever again.

  The door closes behind him.

  I let out a quiet breath. One that I’ve been holding all morning.

  I stand here, listening. Waiting.

  His car engine starts.

  I hear it pull away.

  I wait a beat to be sure he’s definitely gone.

  And then I spring into action.

  I run upstairs and dress quickly into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and then I slip my feet into my sneakers. I grab my old beaten-up brown leather duffel bag from the closet. The one that I brought my clothes and memory box in when I moved out of my foster home at eighteen and moved in with Neil.

  I don’t have any family. I’m a foster kid. I was taken from my drug-addicted, prostitute mother when I was a baby and placed in foster care. It was never known who my father was. Probably one of her johns.

  I guess that’s why I fell into Neil’s arms and lies so easily.

  He was older. Mature. And I was desperate for stability. A family of my own.

  I was eighteen. Fresh out of school and hoping to start community college. I was mugged one night, walking home from the subway. Neil happened to be walking past when it happened. He was off-duty at the time.

  He caught the guy and arrested him. I got my purse back and a date with an older, handsome cop for the following night.

  I moved in with him a week later.

  My nightmare started six months later when he beat me for the first time.

  The night after we were married.

  Before that, he had been so wonderful. I couldn’t believe that this amazing guy wanted to be with someone like me.

  Now, I realize that I was an easy target.

  Easy to manipulate and control.

  I’d thought I was lucky to get him when, in reality, it was the worst thing that had ever happened to me.

  I go into my closet and get my memory box. It has a few things inside, like our wedding certificate. A ticket stub from our first cinema date. The champagne cork from when he asked me to marry him.

  All those things can go in the trash for all I care.

  I open it up and take out the two things I need that will help me disappear. The identification card and birth certificate with my new name.

  I put them in the inside zip pocket of the duffel bag and zip them safely up.

  Then, I get the clothes and underwear I already planned to take with me and put them in the duffel bag. There’s no point in taking too much with me. Less to carry, and I won’t fit in those clothes soon anyway.

  I tie my long blonde hair up into a tight bu
n, and then I pull on a baseball cap over it.

  I go into our bathroom and get my toothbrush, toothpaste, and other toiletries and put them into my cosmetics bag. That goes in the duffel bag with my clothes.

  I carry the bag downstairs and go into Neil’s office. The silence is eerie. I hate this room the most.

  Even though I know I’m alone, a shudder still runs through me.

  I’m still afraid that he’s going to show back up at home and catch me.

  I walk quickly over to his desk and crouch down, putting my duffel beside me. I open the door on the desk.

  I move the folders stacked in front of the safe, putting them on the floor.

  I slip the key to the desk from my pocket. The key I had to steal from him, copy, and put back before he knew it was gone.

  The day I did that was one of the scariest I’d had, and I’d spent the last seven years being afraid. I was terrified that he was going to find me out, and that would be it for the baby and me.

  But he didn’t, and this is happening. I’m going to get the money and get out of here, and everything is going to be okay.

  A fear hits me.

  What if the money’s gone? What if he took it out for some reason?

  I guess there’s only one way to find out.

  Well, either way, I’m still going. I’m not spending another day here with him. I’ll just have to figure something else out.

  Holding my breath, I unlock the safe.

  And exhale.

  The money is still here.

  I don’t know exactly how much money is in here. Hundreds of thousands, I would guess.

  All I need is enough to get me out of here and pay my rent until I can get a job, which I worked out to be about six thousand. I know I’ll probably have to pay at least six months rent up-front because I won’t have a reference to give them.

  But … what if no one will hire me because I’m pregnant? What if I run out of money, no one will give me a job, and I can’t pay my rent?

  God.

  I hate myself for what I’m considering doing. I take a deep breath, holding it in.

  It’s not like you aren’t owed, Annie.

  I know. But I didn’t want it to be like this. I wanted to be able to take care of the baby myself. Earn my own money.

  And you will, but right now, you need money, no matter where it comes from.

  I let out the breath I was holding and take ten thousand from the safe.

  I’ll donate whatever I don’t use to a women’s shelter.

  I shut the safe door, locking it. Put the folders back in front and close the desk door.

  I carry the duffel out to the hallway, putting it down. I get my jacket from the coat closet and slip it on. I pick the duffel bag back up and hang the long strap over my shoulder.

  My cell is still on the bedside table. It can stay there. I won’t need it anymore. If I took it with me, Neil would put a trace on it to find me.

  I walk out the front door, leaving Annie Coombs behind, and become Carrie Ford.

  Carrie

  The real Carrie Ford died five years ago in an automobile accident. She was twenty-five. The age that I am now. We look similar—same pale skin, same blue eyes—but she had gorgeous long red hair, whereas mine is blonde.

  But women change their hair color often, so I can pass for her.

  I never knew her, Carrie.

  She was the granddaughter of the only friend I have. The friend my husband doesn’t know I have.

  Neil has never allowed me to have friends.

  But I needed someone, and Mrs. Ford is amazing. She lives in the house three doors down.

  She’s in her late seventies and the sweetest lady you’ve ever met.

  We became friendly when I was out, tending the front garden, and she would stop to chat.

  One day, she invited me in for a slice of homemade cake and a cup of coffee, and after that, we were friends.

  After a time, she noticed the bruises. She never commented on them. But we both knew that she knew my husband was beating me.

  When I found out I was pregnant, I broke down and told her what was happening. How I needed to get out, but I didn’t know how.

  She knew I couldn’t call the cops on Neil. And there was no way she could hide me there.

  The only way was to disappear.

  That was when she left the room and gave me the best gift I’d ever received. She gave me her granddaughter’s identity card and birth certificate. She told me to take it. Change my name and disappear.

  I finally had a way out.

  She offered me money, too, but I couldn’t take it.

  I knew another way to get money anyway.

  I hugged her tight. Thanked her.

  And that was the start of how I was able to disappear.

  I will thank Carrie Ford every day for the gift of her name.

  Mrs. Ford and I said our good-byes yesterday. I’m going to miss her so much.

  I walk quickly in the direction of the bus depot.

  I’m jumping at every passing car and noise I hear, terrified that one of those cars is going to be Neil.

  You’re okay. He’s in the city.

  But what if one of his buddies is in a patrol car and sees me?

  My fast walk becomes a jog.

  Calm down. You’re making yourself look more conspicuous.

  I slow my jog back down to a fast walk.

  Ten minutes later, without being seen, I reach the bus depot.

  You’re almost there. Nearly free.

  Stopping outside the door to the bus depot, I pull the brim of my baseball cap down, shading my eyes, needing to cover my face. There are CCTV cameras inside the depot. Cameras that Neil will be able to get access to if he figures out how I left town and tries to find out which bus I left on. Also, I need to hide the red swelling on my cheek. It’d make me a little more memorable if he questioned the ticket cashiers, which is the last thing I want. Unfortunately, there isn’t much that I can do about my split lip.

  Through the glass door of the depot, I can see the electronic board detailing all of the upcoming bus departure times.

  The next bus leaving is in fifteen minutes, going to a place called Canyon Lake in Texas.

  Texas is hot.

  I hate the heat. Being fair-skinned means I fry like chicken in the sun.

  Neil knows this. So, he would never think that I would go to Texas.

  It’s perfect.

  Keeping my head down, I take a deep breath, pull open the door, and walk inside the busy depot.

  I walk quickly but calmly to an open counter. I purchase a one-way ticket to Canyon Lake, paying in cash.

  Taking my ticket, I leave the depot and head for where the bus is waiting to take me far away from here.

  Seeing a trash can, I stop.

  I stare down at my left hand. My wedding ring.

  A barrage of memories runs through my mind.

  Our first date. The first time we had sex. Our wedding day.

  The first time he hit me. The first time he raped me. The first time he choked me so badly that I passed out.

  I pull my wedding ring off and drop it in the trash.

  Then, I walk to the bus without a backward glance and climb on it. Trying to act normal, like I’m not running from my abusive husband and using the identification of a dead woman. I show the driver my ticket. He asks to see my ID card.

  Swallowing nervously, I get it from my bag and hand it to him. He gives it a quick glance and hands it back to me.

  And that’s it.

  I’ve done it.

  I make my way down the aisle and sit down in a window seat, toward the back, putting my duffel at my feet.

  And I let out a deep breath. My heart is racing in my chest.

  I did it.

  I’m on the bus that’s going to take me to my freedom.

  I keep expecting Neil to appear and drag me off the bus.

  But he never does appear.

 
; And the door closes on the bus, and it pulls out of the depot.

  Taking me to my new life.

  Carrie

  I step off the bus into the bright sunshine and take in my new surroundings.

  So, this is Canyon Lake.

  My new home.

  Our new home.

  I press my hand to my flat stomach. “You hear that?” I whisper to the baby, leaning my head down. “We’re home. We’re safe.”

  The light breeze picks up my hair, a flash of red going across my gaze.

  I brush away the strands, tucking it behind my ear.

  I’m a redhead now. Vibrant red.

  I dyed my hair in the restroom at the first of the many rest stops on the journey here. I bought an at-home hair dye from the store there along with a romance paperback and a burner phone.

  The red is taking some getting used to after having blonde hair my whole life. But I do like it.

  It makes my eye color pop, and the smattering of freckles on my nose look more prominent.

  I look different. And different is exactly how I need to look.

  I can’t be Annie anymore. I have to be Carrie to survive.

  I might still have the bruise on my face and the cut on my lip, but they’ll be gone soon, and when they are, all traces of Annie will be gone, and I’ll just be Carrie.

  I move away from the bus, walking over to the sidewalk. I put my bag down for a moment. It’s seriously warm here.

  I know Texas is known for its heat, but I didn’t think it would be this warm in November.

  I look around, and other people don’t seem bothered by the heat.

  Either they’re used to it or I’m a heat-phobe.

  Or my body temperature has gone up a few notches since I became pregnant. Working back from my last period, I figure out that my baby is due in July sometime.

  Jeez, if it’s like this now, I’m going to be hugely pregnant in the hottest place in the US. I clearly didn’t think through coming here well enough.

  Well, I wasn’t really thinking at all. Apart from choosing the first bus departing and Neil never thinking to look for me here in a million years.

  Him not finding me here is worth suffering the heat through my pregnancy. I’ll just invest in good air-conditioning and a portable fan.

  On the subject of my due date, I haven’t seen a doctor yet. Once I found out I was pregnant, everything had to move so quickly.

  Registering with a doctor is on my list after getting a place to live. And, hopefully, I’ve already found the place.