Page 125 of The Assignment: Room 3

“Why?” I can see the fear in her eyes, and it’s a crushing blow.

“Everything is fine, sweet pea. Just do this one thing for Mommy.”

“Okay.” She snuggles against my chest, her little arms wrapped tight around my neck.

As soon as we step outside, I know we’re on borrowed time. I can’t even check my phone to see if Flex has heard any of this.

“Aren’t drug dealers supposed to drive black SUVs? The blue Camry seems a little beneath you, Michael.” My voice is cold. Measured. Clear enough to give Flex as many details as possible if he’s listening.

“Shut up, you stupid bitch.”

“Now, I’m stupid? I’d say I’m quite clever for leaving your sorry ass. What’s with the long, blond hair? Are you fucking a hairdresser these days? You never struck me as the type to rock a man bun.”

His fingers dig into my arm so hard I almost cry out, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction. “I will kill you slowly before I take Gracie and sell her to the highest bidder. She needs to know what happens to backstabbing whores.”

Panic is clawing its way up my throat. “If you touch a hair on her head, I will fucking murder you, Michael.”

His palm connects with my cheek, sending me stumbling back. I don’t even register the pain as he grabs Gracie from my arms and tosses her into the back seat of the car. I run over, climbing in beside her. He wrestles my bag off my shoulder and tosses it on the sidewalk before slamming the door and getting in the front seat.

I’m praying Flex figures out what’s happening and finds us in time. We share locations on our phones now, so I know he’ll come for us wherever we end up, but will it be too late?

Gracie crawls into my lap, her tiny body shaking with fear. I wrap my arms around her, holding her and whatever broken pieces of myself that I can.

I should never have stopped running.

Four years ago

“You’re nothing but a whore. You had one fucking job. Don’t get knocked up.”

“I’m not the only one to blame, Michael. It takes two to tango.”

“And just how many ‘twos’ have you been a part of lately? I’m just supposed to believe it’s mine?” The disdain in every goddamn syllable makes me want to hurt him the way he’s done to me so many times before.

“You’re the one who passed me around your friends like it was nothing. And yes, you should believe it’s yours because you’re the only one who fucked me without a condom. Doesn’t feel so great now, does it?”

He grabs my face with his large hand, squeezing until the metallic taste of blood floods my mouth. “You’ll pay for this.”

“I know. In about eight months.”

“You’re not seriously keeping it?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a fucking addict.”

“I’m going to get clean. I’m not letting you pass me around anymore. I can be a good mom. I just need some time.”

“Once a whore, always a whore.”

“I’m leaving.”

He grabs me by the throat. “You think I’m going to let you leave with my kid?”

“You don’t even want it. I’m fine with that. I’ll walk out of here, and you’ll never see me again. I’ll never ask you for anything. Ever.” He tightens his grip.

“You can’t run from me, Helena. I’ll always find you. You’re my whore.” I can barely breathe with his hand wrapped around my neck, stars dancing across my vision, everything darkening as I struggle to suck air into my lungs.

He leans in, his disgusting tongue licking up my cheek as I thrash against him, fighting to break free. “I…” Clawing at his hands, my survival instinct kicks in, not just for me but for the baby growing in my belly.

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