On My Way To You (Broken Love Duet 2)

“How’s Jake?” she asks, and I can hear the regret in her voice.

“Katie…”

“No secrets remember?”

“He’s seeing someone. I mean, it’s new and shit, but he seems genuinely happy. He just got a major sponsor. There’s talk he will be vying in the bull riding competition for the PBR.”

She’s quiet for a minute. Then, I hear her taking in a breath that sounds almost painful.

“So, he’s getting his dream.”

“Katie—”

“It’s okay, Reed. That’s what I wanted. It’s the reason I pushed him away. I want him to live his dreams and be happy. I never wanted him to resent Lennon or me from keeping him from his dreams. Things are better this way. I’m sure of that now.”

“What are you going to do?” I ask.

“Keep on keeping on,” she jokes. I smile because I know exactly what she’s saying.

“Amen. Keep track of our girl, please? Let me know if she needs anything and I’ll send it through you. I don’t want her to know I’m doing it, though.”

“I’ll keep track. Go back to your run, Reed. I’m still waiting to hear you on my radio.”

“Hopefully that’s coming,” I laugh, and we hang up.

I’m left worried that Katie isn’t telling me everything. Worried that Callie is keeping big secrets. Mitch is a miserable son of a bitch. He’s vindictive and plain mean. At least he was when we were growing up. Still, he cares about Callie. I don’t think he’d hurt her on purpose.

But what if I’m wrong?

CHAPTER 18

Callie

“Honey, I’m home.”

I jump as he slams the front door. I squeeze my eyes closed, wishing I could disappear. A million times a day, I curse the paramedic who had to do his job and wouldn’t listen to my pleas. That’s almost as often as I curse myself for being weak. When I force myself to look into the mirror, I hate the woman staring back at me. There are bruises dotting my chest, along my breasts, stomach, and upper arms. There are also matching ones along my thighs.

How did I come to this?

How could I not see what was happening? The Mitch I thought I married never existed. I can see that now. Even in the beginning, he spent his time pulling me away from Katie and my other friends. He would always make me feel silly or like I failed at things, and I accepted it. I blamed myself. I’ve always felt like I wasn’t good enough. I can see that Mitch fed that. Still, I would have never thought he was the monster that he is now.

I don’t hear his footsteps tromping through the hall, yet, but I know he will come. With that in mind, I quickly get dressed. The last thing I want him to find is me naked. I’m just trying to manage to survive right now.

In the back of my head, I am trying to plan an escape. I’ve been hiding money from Mitch. I worry about him taking out his threats against people I care about, but my hope is that once I’ve disappeared, he won’t try anything. Just in case, I have letters written and hidden. When I leave, I will leave the letters for Katie and Jeff. They’ll warn Reed. As plans go, it’s not much. It is, however, all I have. As I look at my reflection once more in the mirror, my long-sleeved shirt covering the bruises, my hand touches the second drawer under the sink. If you open it, all you will find are panty liners and tampons. A lot of tampons. All of them are out of the boxes and lying free. The bottom of the drawer is completely covered. One night while Mitch was working, I found an old piece of paneling out in the junk building. I cut a small piece of thin paneling that fits into the drawer like a second bottom. Then, I wrote the letters that I needed to write. One has Katie’s name, and one has Reed’s. I placed them against the original bottom of the drawer. Then, I put the one I cut out on top of the sealed letters. I figured burying them under tampons would keep the letters safe. Mitch hates tampons and pads. He’s always bitching about them. He even yelled at me over it when he was pretending to be a good guy.

“What are you doing?” Mitch growls as he walks into the bathroom. He looks me over taking in my wet hair. “Why are you taking a bath in the middle of the day?”

I want to yell at him the hot water helps because I’m still sore from the way he beat me a couple nights ago. I don’t do that. I chant one word over and over in my head. Survive. It has become my daily mantra.

“I felt dirty and needed to clean up. You know how I feel when I’m on my period, Mitch. I didn’t want to gross you out.”