Page 1 of Maverick

Prologue

Grace

Six Months Ago

“Goddammit, Grace, don’t make me tell you again!” Trent stood over me, a thunderous expression on his face. “Stupid bitch,” he roared, and kicked me in the side.

I was curled into a ball in the corner of the dining room with my arms covering my head. A grunt escaped despite my efforts to hold it in. Any sign of my pain would only fuel his anger. “I’m sorry,” I whispered through clenched teeth.

“You’re sorry,” he huffed. “Damn right you are, a sorry fucking excuse for a wife.” He kicked me again in the same spot. “Clean this shit up, Grace, or I swear you will regret it.”

Slowly, I unraveled myself from the tight protective ball and got on my hands and knees to pick up the shards of broken porcelain and leftover roast chicken. It was too dry in some parts and too moist in others according to Trent. Each night he found a reason to punish me.

“Faster,” he growled, and dumped a bowl of green beans over my head. “When I come back, this place better be so fucking clean I can eat your attempt at dinner off the floor. Or else.”

I nodded quickly, not bothering to look up because I couldn’t stand to see the hate in his eyes. He hated me, his wife of nearly eight years, like I was his worst enemy. “Okay.” The small assurance fell from my lips along with a yelp as he gripped my hair and yanked me backwards.

“See you soon. Wife.” He pressed the softest kiss to my lips, but when Trent pulled back, anger and hate burned his deep blue eyes, jet black. Then he punched me in the mouth, splitting my bottom lip. He released me with a hard shake that sent me falling backwards onto the hardwood floor.

My head hit the floor and I closed my eyes, waiting until I heard the click of the door, then his heavy footfalls on the front steps, and finally the roar of his engine and then it fading away.

I jumped to my feet. “Son of a bitch!” My ribs screamed at the move, but I ignored it for as long as I could while sweeping up the shards of crockery from the dining room floor.

“Mommy?”

“Soph,” I gasped. “I thought you were asleep.” More like I hoped she was asleep and hadn’t heard another evening of her father’s rage.

She pushed her pink lips out into a pout and shook her head, lopsided blond pigtails swinging beside her ears. “I couldn’t sleep. Daddy was too loud.”

“I’m sorry, honey.”

“You okay, Mommy?” She rushed to me and I picked her up with a grunt just in case there was still glass on the floor, and she squeezed me tight.

“I’m okay, Sophie. Just a little sore.” I pressed a hand to my swollen lip and tried for a smile. “I’ll be fine. I need you to do something for me, okay?”

She nodded, perking up a little.

“Go put on your favorite jeans and your pink sneakers. Wait for me in your room, can you do that?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

I smiled and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you, baby girl.” I kissed her again and set her on her feet, trying hard not to show any signs of pain.

Sophie’s little feet sound above me, and I got moving towards the junk room that Trent refused to let me turn into a gym or a craft room because he didn’t want me to be happy. Ever. Under the bags of clothes Sophie had outgrown were two bags filled with clothes, photos, medicine, and other necessities I could carry. I set the bags beside the front door and rushed upstairs to change into something other than the fitted cotton dress Trent liked me to wear. He insisted I ‘dress like a woman’ even though he put his hands on me like I was a man.

My heart raced as I stepped into a pair of jeans I kept hidden in the back of the closet, certain Trent would somehow know what I was up to and come home early. I tugged a sweatshirt over my head just as the phone rang, and I froze. When it rang the second time, I leapt across the bed and answered quietly. “Hello?”

“Good,” Trent’s voice sounded, and the dial tone quickly followed.

Asshole. Hate swelled in my heart for several long minutes. How could I have ever thought I loved that man? And when did his affection, or at the very least attraction, turn to blind hate? “It doesn’t matter,” I said out loud, and got my ass in gear again.

“Mommy,” Sophie called from her bedroom. “I’m ready!”

I smiled at her eagerness. “Just a second,” I called out, scrambling under the bed in search of something under the loose floorboard. “Got it!” My fingertips grazed the envelope full of cash and snagged it between my middle and forefinger.

It wasn’t much, just a few thousand bucks that I hoped would get us far enough away that Trent couldn’t find us, and we could start rebuilding our lives. I scanned the bedroom to make sure I hadn’t left anything behind that would point to my location or destination. The cash was tucked away in the inside pocket of my coat, along with some important documents. The bags were beside the door.

I rushed to Sophie’s room, and she looked at me expectantly. “I’m ready, where are we going?”

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