Page 5 of Twisted Hearts

She pressed it into my palm, and with tears blurring my eyes, I grabbed my phone. I opened it, the text conversation I’d studied for so long and the number I’d memorized long ago on the bright screen.

With thumbs that no longer shook, I typed out a text.

I’m on my way. I’ll call when I’m close.

Don’t reply.

I shut my phone down and ripped out the SD card. For a moment I considered stomping it to pieces, but if I had the card, was there any point? I tossed it to the settee where my bag waited. I’d told everyone it was for my hair and makeup. In reality it held clothes I owned that hadn’t already been moved to Daniel’s house or to the bridal suite, packed for our honeymoon. Everything else I possessed was in the two suitcases I’d managed to pack without seeming overly excessive.

“I love you,” my mom whispered, voice ragged. There was pain in her eyes, but there was determination there, too.

I clung to it like a life vest.

“I love you, too. Thank you. For understanding. For everything.”

She nodded then, and I tore into the bag and grabbed a pair of leggings and a tank top. Quickly, she undid the two dozen minuscule buttons trailing down my back.

The wedding dress falling to the floor felt like freedom, my mom’s quick movements and whispered assurances like angels rejoicing.

I couldgo.

And so I would.

2

Adrianna

Adrenaline and nerves left my body shaking so badly it took me several minutes to get settled once on the road. The last thing I needed was to crash the rental car I had set to be turned in the following week in Charlotte.

So many who didn’t know, who didn’t understand my family or the Johanssens would think I was exaggerating. Perhaps I was to an extent, but I’d long since likened the elite social status of Charleston to a cult. No one new allowed in, no one allowed out.

Jillian had left, though. I’d always admired her for it, for going to North Carolina for college and never looking back.

Now, I was doing the same. I just wished I knew if it made me brave or stupid.

Once out of Charleston, I dug into the console of my rented Ford Escape, pulled out a burner phone I’d bought the week before, and texted Jillian.

New number.

Be there around six.

She and her fiancé, Klaus, lived in Charlotte, where he played for the local NHL team, but this weekend they were in Raleigh for a fundraiser with clients of hers at the marketing firm where she worked.

It worked out better, because while Daniel might assume I’d go to Jillian if I left him, he’d have no idea I was in Raleigh.

My head spun with plans while my hands gripped the steering wheel, cruising up I-26. I’d set aside part of the monthly stipend from my trust fund over the last year, putting it in an online bank account not connected to any other accounts. I’d set aside enough money to be able to live on for a few months if I was cautious, wanting to avoid needing to dip into my trust fund again. The longer I could hold off on Daniel’s family finding me, the harder it would be for them to get me to return.

I would need a place to crash. A job.

The downfall? Who would hire someone with a women’s studies degree and a resumé filled with only volunteering and philanthropy for the elite of Charleston?

But I had time to figure it all out.

A celebration was in order, despite the fear still prickling the back of my neck every time my thoughts drifted to my father.

To Matthew’s warning from New Year’s.

It’s your father who will pay with blood. And that’s only minor compared to what will happen to you.

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