Never Let You Go(36)

“We can’t. I’m scared he’ll do something to them if they try to help.”

“Okay.” Chris looked calmer. Still upset, but not like he was going to attack Andrew at his job site, and I was relieved. His gaze flicked to his truck, then back to me. “There has to be a way.…”

“I’m trapped, Chris. He watches me constantly—there are cameras. He monitors everything I do, every single day. This corner of the yard is the one place he can’t see on the cameras. The only time he’s not watching me is when he’s asleep.”

His eyes met mine. “How does he sleep when he’s drunk? Does he pass out?”

“Sometimes, but he’s restless. He wakes up if I move an inch or even roll over onto my side. I’d be too scared to sneak out—and it would be hard to keep Sophie quiet.”

“What if I have an idea?”

A few minutes later, I stood under the trees with my brother, while the wind blew leaves down around us and walnuts thumped onto the ground and my hands went cold, but I didn’t feel any of it.

I was feeling hope. For the first time in years.



Andrew gave me a card after dinner, slid it across the table when Sophie had gone into the living room to watch cartoons. I stared down at the big red heart on the front, the shiny silver embossed words. My Darling Wife. I didn’t want to open it, but he was watching me.

I read the romantic poem inside and tried not to flinch. There was a letter from a travel agent. He’d bought three tickets for Cancún, leaving mid-November. Two weeks from now.

He’d signed the card, Love always, Andrew.

“It will be good for me to take some time off,” he said. “I need to focus on you and Sophie.” He reached for my hand, held it across the table. “What do you think?”

I needed at least a month before Chris and I could put the plan into motion. It was going to be hard enough to pretend everything was okay if we stayed home. I couldn’t fake my way through a vacation. He was going to want to have sex every day. What was I going to do?

“Sophie has school.”

“She can miss a week.”

“I don’t know. There’s so much to do before Christmas.”

“Christmas is almost two months away. Think about how much Sophie will love it. The ocean, the pool. She’ll have a blast.”

I stared at him over the table. He was using Sophie again, twisting the knife.

He leaned closer. “Lindsey, I’m really sorry about what happened, okay? Please let me make it up to you. We can spend the whole week relaxing. You can use the spa, get a massage every day, facials. Remember how much you liked those margaritas on our honeymoon? We can take one of those night cruises and watch the rhythm dancers on the beach. I’ll even dance with you. Whatever your heart desires, it’s yours.” He smiled hopefully, his voice teasing, but I saw the fear in his eyes. He knew he was losing me. His fear didn’t make me feel safe, though. It scared me even more. He would do anything to keep me from leaving.

“It sounds lovely.” When he released me to reach for his beer, I rested my hand in my lap and dug my nails into my palm until the urge to scream had passed. It would be okay. Maybe it would even be better if he thought I was looking forward to a vacation with him. He’d feel more confident that everything was fine and might not watch me as closely. Soon. I’d be free soon.





CHAPTER FOURTEEN


DECEMBER 2016



It’s been a long day of cleaning. Wednesdays I have two houses, neither of which are small, and I’m looking forward to the weekend. Maybe Sophie and I can go to a movie or do some cross-country skiing. She doesn’t love the skiing, prefers to sit in the lodge by the fire and draw, but I can usually get her out for a few hours. It would be nice to see Greg too. He was busy last weekend working on his truck—the transmission blew right in the middle of his Christmas rush. He’d joked about borrowing money. “Don’t suppose you have a few thousand dollars lying around, do you?” But when I asked if he was serious he said, “No, I’ll work it out.”

When I told him I saw Andrew in town he was concerned and reassuring, which was nice. “Try not to let it worry you too much, but call the police next time.” He offered to come over that night after his truck was fixed, but he sounded so tired, I said that I’d be okay. I figured he could use a break. Later, walking around my silent house, I wished I’d said yes.

When I arrived at Marcus’s this morning for our workout, he took one look at me and said, “That bad, hey? I’d hug you, but you look like you might burst into tears.”

I nodded, held my mouth in a grim line. “I need to toughen up.”

“No, you’re great, but I am going to show you how to fight mean, okay?”

“What have we been doing all these months?”

“Baby steps. Now I’m going to turn you into a lethal weapon.” He smiled, and I appreciated the humor so much, I almost did give him a hug, but he was probably right. I would cry. I took a step back, pretended to dance around and box the air, uppercuts, jabs.

He watched me for a moment. “Okay, maybe I’ll just show you how to kick a guy.”



I drop my purse on the kitchen table, grab a water from the fridge, and lean on the door for a few moments, considering my dinner options. Quesadilla for one? Frozen pizza? Maybe leftover sausage and potato stew with toast—I burned enough calories today. Sophie texted me that she was going to Delaney’s for dinner and would be home around eight. I pop the stew into the oven and make my way upstairs to do some online Christmas shopping.