Page 155 of Debts and Desires
“Shh, babies,” I whispered. “Go back to sleep. Mama’s gotta check on something.” It seemed to be enough. Mac laid his head back down.
After slipping on my sneakers, I grabbed my car keys off the hook and headed outside, loading the trunk.
I had already grabbed my purse from his rig the day before. I had planned it while he was grabbing lunch for us. I’d convinced him to go all the way to Wrightsville to get something. Then, I hid it in the bag I’d brought and prayed that he didn’t decide to either check his rig or my purse. Thankfully, neither happened. I wondered if he even remembered my purse was there or if he was so cocky that he thought I would never find it.
Each movement felt like an eternity as I navigated the treacherous path back downstairs, my pulse racing in my ears like a relentless drumbeat. Passing Carter’s room was like traversing aminefield; every step was fraught with the danger of discovery, every creak of the floor a potential warning siren.
Mac and BJ were watching me curiously. But I think they knew. Mac’s whimpers tugged at my heart, and BJ’s eyes begged me to stay. There was no time for sentimentality, no room for second thoughts. I had to leave. I had to leave now.
I went back upstairs for the last time.
My hands were quivering as I stuffed my essentials—the stuff I couldn’t pack away without shining a spotlight on my departure—into a bag. BJ, who must have slipped in before I shut the door, mewed and rubbed against me. I almost screamed. My nerves were so frazzled. But once I had realized it was her, I held back tears. I rubbed her, moving her away from my stuff, telling her I was sorry.
The silence of the house was suffocating, broken only by the rustle of fabric and the frantic zipping of my bags. I had to leave some things, not all of it fitting.
The sudden scratches at the door made me still. Panic gripped me.
“Hush, Mac,” I whispered, hoping he could hear. When I was sure he wouldn’t scratch again, I moved faster until the last of it was packed and I headed out.
This time when I went outside, Mac followed through his dog door, into the fenced area while BJ had climbed up and sat on the windowsill.
He was waiting, watching, as I frantically shoved my belongings into the trunk, every moment stretching out into an eternity.
Mac must have sensed my restlessness, because he let out a sharp and urgent bark that echoed through the trees.
I snapped my finger, commanding him to go in. Thankfully, he did. He joined BJ and watched from the window.
All that was left was to grab my guitar and notebook from the living room.
Carefully, I packed my guitar and then headed out. Mac went to follow again, but I made him stay. He listened, his ears and tail falling. Just as I stepped outside again, he started barkingand howling. His howl was so sad. And I knew he knew I wasn’t coming back. He gave another bark. Then another. And another. His barks pierced the stillness of the night, echoing off the walls like a warning bell. I shushed him urgently, my heart in my throat as I prayed Carter wouldn’t wake up.
“Mac, baby. Stop!” I hissed. But he didn’t. Instead of wasting any more time, I headed to my car. I couldn’t afford to waste a second; every passing moment was a potential to be caught. I struggled to pack my guitar, some of my bags falling with a resounding crash. Panic clawed at my throat as Mac’s barks grew louder. It was as if he were purposely trying to wake his master.
I kept looking over my shoulder as I struggled to repack everything; anxiety and desperation threatening my lungs.
A light on the second floor sliced through the darkness. He was awake.
The night seemed to hold its breath with me.
Moments later, his form outlined against the glow of the window. Carter’s gaze piercing through the darkness like a spotlight searching for its target.
My blood ran cold as his eyes landed on me. His voice was a muffled roar of rage that sent shivers down my spine as he yelled, “No!” before turning from the window.
He was coming to get me.
Oh,God, he was coming to get me.
“Fuck!” I whimpered. My feet were frozen, distraught by my impending capture.
Go!My mind screamed.Fucking go!
I could hear Carter’s voice through the walls, echoing in the night.
“Emogen!” he bellowed, his words a thunderous warning that sent my brain scrambling, begging for safety. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare!”
I had to move, to act before it was too late. Finally, I shoved the last bag in and slammed the trunk. The sound of my pounding footsteps as I darted for the driver’s side drowned outthe roar of my own heartbeat. I had left the car windows open earlier, probably distracted by my plans of escape. The engine roared to life beneath me and my hands white-knuckled the steering wheel as I sped away. The gravel flung out from my tires, dust spreading in my wake.
His headlights were on moments later, trying to keep up. But I kept going.
