Page 2 of My Escort (A Different Kind of Escort)

“Is it just you and the abuser?”

“Yes.” I glance at the door.

“Okay, so there are no children in the house?”

“No.” Thank God! What if I had children? It must be terrifying for those poor women who do. I’m not even married to Glenn or anything. I couldn’t imagine if we owned things together or had children. It’d make this entire situation much harder.

I must get out of here.

“Are there any guns in the house?”

“No. Not that I know of,” I say, unsure. Until a month ago, I thought I knew the man I was living with, but now, anything is possible.

“Alright,” the woman says. “Send me a photo of you and your abuser, then delete this call from your phone.”

“Okay.”

“It could take up to an hour for your escort to get there. Will you be okay until then?”

I hope so. “Yes. Just tell him to hurry.”

“I will, Cassie. I’ll stay by the phone. Reach out if you need me to call the police or anything, okay?”

“Yes.” I hear footsteps. “I have to go.” I end the call and toss my phone into my top dresser drawer. The footsteps stop at the door.

I hold my breath, praying he goes away.

My prayers are answered when I hear his footsteps drift off.

I grab my cell, send the pictures, and check the time.

An hour. I got this. I can survive for an hour. I delete the history of the call and squeeze the phone in my hand.

I just need to stay clear of him for an hour.

I’m halfway there, still sitting on the bed, waiting.

The bedroom door swings open. Glenn's eyes dart to my hands, clenching my cell. His head tilts.

“Who were you talking to?”

“No one.” I grip it tighter.

He walks over and rips the phone from me.

He glares down, making me feel smaller than I already do in my position.

I’m not going to lie.

I was attracted to his body. His muscular, works out every day, massive body.

“What’s your password?”

I lift my chin and meet his dark, threatening eyes. “I’m not giving you my password.” I grip the comforter, preparing for the hit.

It’s coming. I see it twitching in his fingers.

He doesn’t like when I stand up to him.

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