Page 2 of Camden

Shook me.

Jax was smart about his abuse, never leaving a mark where someone would see it. Where someone would know what a monster he was.

Not that I had anybody else left in that godforsaken town to care.

My parents died when I was eighteen. My brother deployed the year after. All I had left was Jax. The man I promised to spend my life with. I had no friends left. A fact he was always happy to point out. I didn’t realize it, but he had slowly cut me off from everything and everyone, controlling who I spoke with and when.

I had begun to accept my life, but last night was the last straw.

The pivotal moment that changed everything. The moment I finally chose myself.

Jax wasn’t supposed to find the test.

He wasn’t even supposed to know. But he found the receipt I stupidly left sitting on the counter and went crazy. The dead look in his eyes as he screamed at me would be forever burned in my memory. The hateful words spewing from his lips felt like daggers cutting me deeper and deeper with each syllable.

The physical punch he threw at me was easier to take than the verbal assault.

Until I fell.

His fist connected with my eye, forcing me backward, and I lost my footing. Tumbling down the stairs, my body rolled so many times I didn’t think I was going to survive the fall.

I thought it was the end for me.

That my neck would snap, or I’d hit my head hard enough my brain would swell.

I landed in a heap at the base of the stairs. Sharp stabbing pains shot through my shoulder as I tried to move my arm.

It had to be dislocated. At least partially. It wouldn’t be the first time.

I couldn’t breathe.

My head pounded. My eye started swelling shut. The ribs bruised from the week before screamed out in agony. Heavy footsteps vibrated the wooden floor beneath me as he descended the stairs. My chest constricted as my heart sped up. I tried to scramble away but hit the wall behind me with nowhere to go.

One boot landed in my vision before the other kicked me in the stomach. Every ounce of oxygen left my lungs in a whoosh.

“Clean this fucking mess up.”

Unsure of which mess he was referring to, I clenched my eyes shut to stop the tears from falling and nodded. Tears would’ve pissed him off further. I would’ve paid for them.

The front door slammed, echoing in the quiet house. I cracked an eye open as his truck roared to life outside. The headlight shone through the window, letting me know I was alone.

My arms shook as I strained to push myself up, my grip slipping. With my back against the wall, blood trickled down my arm onto the floor. I must have cut it open on the broken rail.

The one I asked Jax to fix months ago.

Salt hit my lips, and I slowly wiped the tears I finally allowed to fall.

I’m better than this. Better than what he gives me.

My entire body protested as I stood on trembling legs. Taking the stairs one at a time, I made it to the bedroom. Moving as quickly as I could, I grabbed a suitcase from the closet.

Grinding my teeth together, I tried not to break from the pain that radiated through my shoulder. Pushing myself to keep moving, I tossed the luggage onto the floor. With my good arm, I started haphazardly packing my clothes. One drawer after another, I filled the suitcase, only taking what I needed. I could pick up the rest once I got to Missouri. Once I got to the only person on this side of the world I could trust.

Blood dripped from my arm onto the carpet, staining it red. Bloody handprints covered my bag. The dresser. The door. It looked like someone had been murdered.

Rushing across the hall to the bathroom, I pulled out an old first aid kit. The emblem on the front faded from using it much too often. Unsnapping the latches, I rummaged through the supplies until I found the gauze pads and medical tape. Biting the tape between my teeth, I ripped off two pieces and fumbled to tape the gauze over the gash on my arm. It probably needed stitches, but that would take too long.

I didn’t have time to stop.

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