End of the Innocence(82)

She gave me another long look, reached a hand over and flipped a switch, darkness settling back over the yard. I breathed a sigh of relief, waiting until the door shut before I moved to the swing.

If there was a heaven, it was something like that moment. I felt, for the first time since leaving my home, safe. Crickets chirped softly, the sprinkler purred before me, and a soft breeze danced gently on my wet skin. I glanced down, noting some red stains on the wet of my shirt and reached over, gingerly fingering the bandage on my shoulder, then carefully moved my hands to the back of my head, my fingers coming away red, the skin sore. I sighed, leaning back in the darkness and pushed lightly with my toe, starting the swing’s movement.

The front door opened and the woman appeared, a bottle of water and a phone in hand. “Here,” she said tartly, handing out both. “I watched you from the window. You don’t have to drink from the sprinkler. I’m pretty sure that water isn’t fit for consumption.”

I smiled gratefully, setting the water down and using the cordless phone with both hands, my fingers shaking in their eagerness. I dialed Brad’s cell, pressing the numbers deliberately, then held the trembling phone to my ear, biting my lower lip to keep the tears at bay.





Chapter 70

The moment I heard his voice, the tremor in it, the knowledge that he was as close to breaking as I was, my dam broke. I sobbed, unable to speak, my words unintelligible in the flood of tears that wouldn’t stop coming.

His voice broke, saying my name repeatedly, asking me over and over if I was okay.

“Yes,” I gasped, hiccupping on the word. “I’m okay. I need you to come get me.”

Behind his voice I heard the slam of a door, the roar of his car.

“Where? Where are you?”

I sniffed, a loud, phlegm-filled sob, and looked at the woman before me, her eyes watching with a mixture of concern and curiosity. I move the receiver away from my mouth. “What’s your address?”

She gave it to me, waiting as I repeated it to Brad, then offered a few reference points, which I also passed on.

“I know the area. I can be there in ten minutes. Julia, baby, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too. I’ll talk to you when you get here.” I hung up, passing the phone to the woman, smiling through my tears. “Thank you,” I whispered.

“You okay?”

I nodded tightly, trying to keep my emotions contained, a wave of happiness and relief spilling into me, and I smiled, tears running down my face. “Yeah,” I whispered. “I’m good.”

She didn’t ask me anything else, just sat next to me on the swing. We sat there in the dark, my eyes fixed on the street, my ears listening for the sound of Brad’s engine. I wondered, for a quick moment, if I should have called the police instead. But all I had thought of during my run was Brad. He would know whom to call; he would know what to do. Who was safe, and who was our foe. The swing rocked, the crickets chirped, and my tears fell, a constant flood down already-wet cheeks. Then I heard the sound, a squeak of tires on a turn, the acceleration of a heavy foot on the gas, and his car flew into view, my feet already in motion, flying down the steps, across the grass and into his arms, my face burying in his neck, sobs wracking my body. His hands ran over me, checking me for injuries, and he pulled away when he found my shoulder, then head wound, my body flinching at his touch. The concern in his eyes tugged at my heart.

“What happened? Do you need a doctor?”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it. I want to go home.”

His face grimaced, smiling in a way that broke my heart, and pulled me to him again. “Of course, baby. Let’s go.”

His strong arms. They lifted underneath my thighs and hugged my wet body to his. Unnecessary, not needed for the five steps to his car, yet he carried me. His neck smelled of sweat and cologne, the sharp rub of his jaw telling me that he had shaved. For the wedding. My heart broke for a brief moment. Then, we bent as one and he settled me, soft as a baby, into the passenger seat, his mouth brushing over my lips gently. Dark brown eyes, wetter than I’ve ever seen them, vulnerability mixed with a shot of relief, doused with love, met mine, and we did nothing but stare at each other for a moment. Then he shut the door softly, and I watched him, through tinted glass, take a few steps back into the yard, speaking to the woman with the red hair. He pulled out his wallet, they had a few minutes of discussion, then he handed her something. I leaned back in the seat, reclining it slightly, and closed my eyes.

I had barely taken a breath when he was in the car, his hand sweeping over my face, my eyes opening to find his concerned gaze on me. “Is everything okay? Your eyes just closed. I’m calling a doctor.”