Page 31 of Desperation

I was given a week off to recover and was chomping at the bit to get back. During my time off, I took the opportunity to go apartment hunting. My mom insisted on coming with me, and I couldn’t tell her no. After the fourth place we checked out—with her finding something wrong with each of them—I caught on to her game. She didn’t want me to move out. We looked at two more before we gave up, and I resigned myself to live with her for a little while longer. It wasn’t so bad. She cooked and did my laundry, even though I’d told her not to a hundred times. I was saving money even with paying some of the bills and buying groceries each week. But I wanted to stand on my own two feet, and honestly I didn’t want to be one of those guys who still lived with his mom when he was thirty.

When I wasn’t with her, I was staking out the Tidewater Rogues clubhouse. One of those sons of bitches had sent me to the hospital, and the police weren’t doing shit about it. I looked at a lineup and through all their photos of potential suspects, but he wasn’t there. Hank assured me they’d keep looking, but I didn’t have much faith in him. I would have to find this guy on my own.

Hastings and I were sitting at a little roadside diner, eating breakfast after our midnight rotation at the warehouse when my phone rang Monday morning. My heart skipped a beat as I stared down at the screen. I’d saved Hannah’s number in my phone months ago to ensure that I wouldn’t miss her call in case she needed me. If she was calling, something had to be wrong.

“Are you gonna answer that, bro?” Hastings’ voice snapped me from my daze, and I stood from the table, throwing some bills down as I swiped my finger across the screen.

“H-hello.” I’d almost said her name but thought better of it just in case it was Drake on the other end of the line. He would wonder why I had her number. I cursed under my breath, hating that I had to think that way, to operate within these mind games.

The line was silent for a moment, and I pulled the phone away from my ear to make sure it was connected. Then I heard it. A little sob. It broke me. I nearly crumpled to the ground at that sound. She was crying. Dear God, why was she crying?

“Devon?” Her voice came out in a shriek, like steam releasing after being under pressure for too long.

“I’m here. What’s wrong?”

“Can-can you…” Her voice cut off, and the sobs were back. I knew what she needed. She didn’t have to say anything else.

“I’m coming,” I promised her and hopped in my truck. I didn’t care that I’d peeled out of that parking lot, spraying gravel in my wake or that I was speeding. I just needed to get to her. I was close, closer than I would’ve been if I were at home when she called.

I pulled into her driveway, tires screeching as I slammed on the brakes and put it in park.

Please let her be okay.

I pounded on the door, not caring if the neighbors heard because I was getting her out of here, and she was never coming back.

“Hannah,” I pleaded into the door. “It’s me. Open up.”

A moment later the door opened, but she stepped away and turned her back to me. I gulped back my fear and trepidation. She was hiding. It had to be bad. I gently grasped her shoulder, and she flinched. I cursed and dropped my hands.

“What happened?” I asked gently, fighting the urge to pull her to me and cradle her against my chest.

“He asked me to marry him,” she replied, letting out a humorless laugh. “And I said no.” She turned to me then, and my knees buckled. Her lip was split, one side of her face stained purple, her eye damn near swollen shut. It took all the strength in my body to stay standing upright and not cry. Hopelessness gripped me in her ugly, inescapable claws. There was nothing I could do to fix what had been done to her. It hit me then that this was something she’d felt almost constantly for two years. Day after day she lived with this feeling that was shredding me inside.

“That wasn’t the worst of it,” she continued, turning away from me and grabbing something off the table. “He found out I was working on my GED and accused me of planning to leave him.” Tears welled in her eyes again. “But I wasn’t. I just wanted to better myself,” she swore. “He was silent on the ride home from the restaurant. I tried to talk to him, to explain I just wasn’t ready, but he wouldn’t listen. When we got home, he hid his anger from the babysitter and sent her on her way. I thought he was starting to calm down until he saw this.” She handed me the application for graduation through the online GED program she was in. “He. Just. Snapped.” Each word was punctuated by a sob, a catching of her breath as her lungs demanded oxygen after hours of crying.

If I didn’t get my own sorrow and rage under control, I was going to drive to his work, beat him to death with my bare hands, and cry over the body of the brother I’d lost.

“Get your things. We need to go.” My voice was stone and fire, a raging inferno begging to be turned loose.

“I started packing when he left for work, but I’m not finished. Jameson needs so many things, I—”

“We have to go.” I cut her off. The longer it took for us to get out of here, the more time Drake had to figure out we were gone and come looking for them. “Whatever you need for him that we don’t have, we can pick up on the way.”

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know yet, but I’m going to find somewhere safe for you and your baby.” She swallowed nervously but said nothing. Nodding once, I took that as her agreement. I helped her secure the car seat in my truck and the bassinet in the bed. She put him in warm clothes and grabbed a blanket to tuck around him once he was buckled in. Their bags lined the back floorboards and the seat next to Jameson, along with a few pieces of equipment we could easily carry and stash along with their luggage. I was never more glad that the car lot only had this model in the extended cab version when I was desperate for a truck.

“Are you ready?” I asked her as she climbed in beside me.

“Yes,” she replied, her bloodshot green eyes staring into mine. “Please. Take me away from here.” I put my truck in reverse and headed out of town. I wasn’t sure yet where I was going, but I needed to get her as far away from here as I could.

I dialed up Mark as soon as I turned off her road. “Mornin’, Princess. I thought you’d be in bed by now,” Mark greeted when he answered his phone.

“I need a safe house,” I barked. No pleasantries. No witty banter. He sobered, his tone morphing into protector mode.

“What’s wrong?”

“I need somewhere off the grid. I need to…” I glanced over at Hannah, unsure how much of her story she’d want me to share. “…Hide someone. For their safety,” I elaborated.

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