Breathe Out (Just Breathe, #2)(116)

“Most of the evening, I was home alone with the girls. The sound of a car door slamming woke me and I checked to see who it was. At first, I only thought it was Amber . . . until I heard his feet storming up the steps. Before I knew it, his hands were around my neck and he had me pinned against the bookshelf as Leslie and Brittany screamed. He reeked of alcohol. Scared, I clipped Dean in the groin, forcing him to the ground. I tried to help Brittany up from being knocked down when she tried to help, but Dean made me trip and almost fall on her.

“He came after me again, so I shoved my foot into his face. I got past Amber who was a statue in the doorway and went downstairs to call nine-one-one. Just as I hit the send button, Dean pushed Amber down the stairs and was already coming for me. He knocked me to the ground and towered over me. He . . .” my voice trembles at the memory.

Joe squeezes my hand firmly. “Did he . . . hurt you?” he asks, gritting his teeth.

“No,” I continue. “He tried. He was able to pin me down, but my arm broke free when he was trying to undo his belt. The second I was free I jab my finger into his eye and kicked him in the groin a second time.”

“Good,” Joe replies, not loosening his grip.

I look at Mr. and Mrs. Nelson and they stare at me in wonder, amazement and shock.

“Please, continue,” Mr. Nelson chokes down, clearly affected as well by my story.

“Brittany pointed to the closet and I remembered the baseball bat that was in there. As I rushed to get the girls out of the house, Dean was trying to come after us. I motioned for the girls to leave and I turned, planning on slamming the bat into the side of Dean’s head. When I realized that the girls didn’t leave, and not wanting them to witness what I planned to do, I shoved my foot into his face.”

“Wow,” Mrs. Nelson gasps.

“I can understand why you left,” Mr. Nelson mentions.

“How did you leave?” Joe asks. “If the police were already on the way?”

Lowering my head, I gathered the courage to continue. “Martin and his wife gave me their phone number earlier that day when they dropped the girls and me off at the house. I had Brittany call them while I decided to use Dean’s hidden liquor stash to burn the house down after I dragged Amber’s body out. When I got to the bottles, I saw a bunch of cigarette cartoons. Dean never smoked, so my curiosity got to me. I found wads of money stuffed in a full carton and a bunch of loose ones. I gave the girls a bunch and took the rest knowing I couldn’t let the state put me in another home.”

Sobs began to pour from within me. “I felt so bad . . . it hurt to leave the girls, but I knew I couldn’t take them with me.”

“You did what you had to do,” Mr. Nelson consoles.

Mrs. Nelson dishes out four bowls of the chili and joins us at the table.

“I came back here that night,” I reveal.

“What? When?” Mrs. Nelson searches.

“It was late. Early the next day,” I explain. “I used the key off the back porch and let myself in. I was surprised that the State hadn’t moved or sold anything.”

“They couldn’t,” Mr. Nelson shares. “The government takes forever to do anything, and when it came time, there was a lawyer who came from New York, saying that the State couldn’t do anything and that he had power of attorney until you returned.”

“That’s right, Benjamin,” Mrs. Nelson states. “What was his name?”

“I don’t recall, sweetheart,” Mr. Nelson answers.

“We’ve got his business card somewhere here,” Mrs. Nelson explains. “We’ll find it and give it to you when we do.”

“Thank you,” I reply.

“So, what’s going on with the house then? Since the State didn’t have the right to it?” Joe inquires.

“The lawyer hired some company to come in every week to clean and maintain the interior and exterior of the house. Nothing has moved,” Mr. Nelson offers. “He can’t do anything either without your permission. I think they looked for you for a long while. Checking in with us on occasion to see if you returned.”


“Where did you go that night after the foster family incident?” Mrs. Nelson asks.

“I took a train all the way to California, knowing I needed to get as far away as possible,” I reveal.

“That’s when you meet Jared,” Joe confirms.

“Yes,” I agree.

“Who’s Jared?” Mr. and Mrs. Nelson question.

“He’s my friend. He’s like a brother to me,” I clarify. “He became family after that.”

“I’m surprised he’s not here with you,” Mr. Nelson says with a smile. “Must have taken a lot of guts to let you come here with your boyfriend instead.”

Joe laughs.

“What’s so funny?” Mrs. Nelson searches.

“I’m not her boyfriend,” Joe discloses.

“Oh,” Mrs. Nelson answers. “I just assumed. You two look like you’re in love.”

Wanting to end the uncomfortable moment, I share, “Jared knows I’m here. I came on my own and I ran into Joe in the city. He insisted on me not being alone if . . . when I came.”

“Thank you, Joe,” Mr. Nelson commends. “You’re a good man.”