We’ll be safe.
Freedom is so close I can nearly taste it.
I wish there were a way I could thank Ty for doing this for me. There has to be a way. Maybe, once me and Della are settled someplace, I can find a way to pay him back. It’s the least I can do for giving us this opportunity.
I’m so ready to leave this life behind.
To start fresh, happy and unafraid.
You won’t see Ford again.
Thoughts of Ford enter my brain against my will. I don’t want to think about him right now. As much as we’re attracted to one another and have this undeniable connection—even when he’s being Mr. Crazy Pants—I can’t go there with him. He’s a distraction away from my purpose.
Save Della.
Save both of us.
Because if we stay here much longer, I wonder how many more lines Dad will cross. How it might irrevocably change us somehow.
All that matters now is that we have a way out.
The second we can make a break for it, we absolutely will.
* * *
I’m startled from the book I’m reading when I hear shouts. Dad’s shouts specifically. I abandon my book to creep over to my bedroom door. Since he’s still yelling, I sneak out of my room unnoticed, even when my door creaks.
In the hallway, Della’s pink stuffed cat lies in the middle of the floor, discarded and forgotten. I step around it and peek into her room. Empty. My heart leaps into my throat because I could bet money he’s yelling at her.
Hang in there, little sis.
I’m getting us out of here soon.
I follow the sound of his voice to the living room. Dad stands over Della, towering over her like an angry giant. She defiantly glares up at him like she could take him.
She can’t.
He’s too big and cruel and ruthless.
“You fucking ruined it, you dumb piece of shit!” he bellows, gesturing at his computer on the coffee table.
The room reeks of his expensive liquor. An entire bottle of it has been knocked over and spilled onto the laptop. It drips to the floor making a pattering sound that can be heard between the echoes of Dad’s shouting.
“You were meant to die, not her,” he growls. “You took my wife because you’re a fucking parasite. Now you’re trying to suck the life out of me too!”
I’m thankful she can’t hear a word he’s saying to her.
She’s no longer looking at him either, but instead notices me approaching. The relief at seeing me is a punch to the throat. All her bravery is gone and she looks to me to help her out of this mess.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you!” Dad screams, grabbing hold of her face.
With a rough shove, he sends her careening to the floor. She bumps her head on the end table.
“Dad! Stop!” I cry out, rushing forward to put myself between the two of them.
His hand swings out, hitting me on the side of the face. I stumble, tripping backwards over the coffee table and fall between the table and sofa. Pain shoots from my tailbone up my spine on impact.
Della is back on her feet, tears running down her face as her eyes search mine, looking to make sure I’m okay.
I start to get up, ignoring the literal pain in my ass, when Dad is on the prowl again after her. She scurries backward until she’s trapped against a wall.
“I could snap your neck and no one would even notice or care,” he threatens. “You’re nothing but a fucking nuisance!”
He reaches for her neck, his large hand closing in on her tiny, delicate throat. If he gets a hold of her, he’ll kill her. I feel it in my bones.
I’ll never let that happen.
Grabbing the empty bottle, I charge for him. Swinging it as hard as I can, I nail him in the back of the head. He goes down hard, with a pained groan, taking Della down with him.
I stare down in shock as blood seeps from the back of his head.
What did I do?
Did I kill him?
He makes another pained sound.
Not dead, which means we have to go. Now’s our opportunity.
“Della!” I grab her arm and drag her out from beneath Dad’s unmoving form.
Though she’s getting bigger, I can still carry her. Since she’s shuddering so hard her teeth are chattering, I don’t even try to make her walk. I carry her down the hallway to my room to grab my bag. Earlier, when I could, I slipped into her room to grab some of her clothes to add to my bag. I decided one bag was easier to deal with in a hurry than two.
I’m glad I planned it out because I didn’t think about how I might have to carry Della.
On the way back out, I scoop up her pink stuffed cat, hurrying to the door. Dad is still on the floor in the living room. I’m not going to stick around to see if he’s okay or not.