Never Let You Go(32)

“What?”

“Daddy said you were sick?” She sounded confused. My stomach muscles clenched. Of course he lied to her. I was definitely sick. Sick and tired of living in fear like this.

“I’m all better now, baby. I’m glad you had fun.”

She let out a big yawn, and her head lolled against my shoulder “Can I sleep now?”

I stayed with her as long as I dared, until her breath evened out. I knew he was waiting in the living room. What was he going to say? That I had to have a child or he’d do something terrible? What if I refused to have sex with him? If he was drinking he was never interested in sex. When he was sober and initiated anything sexual, I’d learned to go along with it whether I was in the mood or not. I disconnected from my body until it was over. Any excuses about my being tired were met with hostility and accusations of cheating. It was easier to just let it happen.

When I walked into the living room, I saw that Andrew had passed out on the couch, an empty whiskey bottle on the floor beside him. So he had been drinking tonight. He always liked to come home and finish his buzz off with a few whiskeys. I sat on the chair across from him, watched his sleeping form, and imagined him taking pulls from a beer as he drove my daughter up into the mountains on curvy roads. One wrong turn and I would have lost her forever.

I looked around the living room, so similar to those in all the other houses we’d lived in. Sophie’s project was drying in front of the fireplace. She’d spent hours gluing leaves and pinecones onto the poster board and labeling everything with gold glitter glue. She couldn’t wait to show him.

His wallet was on the coffee table. He rarely set it down anywhere. My key chain was beside it. Was this a trap? I watched his face, listened to his heavy breathing, then leaned forward and slowly picked up his wallet. I opened it and glanced down. Five one-hundred-dollar bills.

He shifted his weight and I froze, watching. He turned his face into the back of the couch. I waited until his breath slowed. I fingered the bills, carefully slipped them out. I couldn’t believe what I was doing. I paused, then thought of my birth control pills down the toilet.

I picked up my keys, gripping them tight in my hand so they didn’t jingle, and tiptoed out. I found my suitcase in the closet, packed my clothes, my toiletries, moving methodically around our bedroom. Then I went into Sophie’s room, slid her drawers open, and packed her underwear, pajamas, jeans, and sweaters. Dresses. Right, I had to remember her princess dress.

“What are you doing, Mommy?”

I spun around, held my finger to my lips. “We’re going on an adventure,” I whispered.

She sat up. “Is Daddy coming?”

“No. He has to work tomorrow, so we have to be really, really quiet, okay?”

She nodded, her hair floating around her face, silvery blue in the moonlight. I lifted her in my arms and she wrapped her legs around my waist, tucked her head into the crook of my neck like when she was a toddler. I felt her body go limp and heavy. She’d fallen back asleep. I carried her to the car, eased the doors open, and placed her in her booster. Her head drooped. I turned her face to the side. Then I put her blanket around her and tossed our bags in the back.

I slid behind the wheel, flipped through my key chain. Something was wrong. I couldn’t feel the shape of my car key. I glanced at the house, nervous about turning on the interior light. I dug my cell out of my purse, my fingers fumbling through everything. Finally I felt the cold plastic, aimed the light down. There was my mail key, the house key, but no car key.

A noise beside me, the rush of cold air, a hand gripping my arm. Andrew was pulling me out. I fought to hang on to the steering wheel, both hands clutching the rubber, but he was too strong and I fell onto the ground, my legs still inside the car. He dragged me the rest of the way out, sat astride my chest. I choked back my scream. Sophie. I couldn’t wake Sophie.

I pushed at his chest, tried to squirm away. His body was outlined from the interior lights that had come on when he opened the door. I couldn’t see his face. It was all black.

Hands were around my throat, squeezing. I couldn’t breathe. I clawed at his hands, his wrists. My knees bumped into his back. Everything was slowing down.

“I warned you,” he hissed.

Something felt like it was bursting in my eyes, blood roared into my head. I tried to gouge at his face, but he pulled away. My eyes were closing. My hands loosening.

“Mommy?”

Air, sudden sweet air. My head rolled to the side, cold dirt and gravel under my cheek. I had no strength, could only take gasping breaths. My throat felt as though it was broken.

“Mommy fell out of the car,” Andrew said.

“Mommy?” Sophie’s voice was tentative, worried. She was strapped into her booster seat, couldn’t see me on the ground. Andrew shifted his weight and climbed off me, but his hand pressed down on my stomach—a warning.

“I’m okay,” I gasped. After a moment, I rolled onto my side, eased to my knees. Andrew was getting Sophie out of the car, lifting her up into his arms. She was holding her blanket.

“I thought we were going on an adventure?” Sophie said.

“The adventure is over, sweetie,” Andrew said.

He strode toward the house, Sophie still in his arms. She was watching me over his shoulder. I could just make out the shape of her small head bobbing with each of his steps.