Page 99 of Concealed

I can’t make myself look up, but the sounds of his truck reversing let me know he’s complying with what I’ve asked. Matt roughly pushes me into the passenger seat and wastes no time coming around to the driver’s side and starting the engine.

And then it’s silent.

Matt drives like he’s taking an exam. He signals on time, goes the speed limit, and follows all the rules of the road. He clicks on the radio and starts humming along as though we’re just on a road trip and he isn’t dragging me back to a life that I hate.

It’s always worse when he’s like this.

My mom used to say, still waters run deep and to watch out for the quiet ones. When Matt hits me, it isn’t in a screaming rage.

He gets glassy-eyed as though he’s drunk, and maybe he is – on violence. He’s meticulous with his abuse, and one day he’s going to kill me and make it look like he didn’t.

That’s why I left.

I’m never waiting for an explosion of violence. I’m waiting for a minute shift in his demeanor to let me know that the switch has flicked, and he’s become a psychopath.

Those small changes mean the dreamboat I met on vacation has officially left the building, and that I’m about to suffer.

Tears blur my vision as the beautiful landscape of Sunnyville whizzes by the window. I debate how badly I’d be hurt if I jumped out of the car, but he’d just come to get me again anyway.

There’s nowhere for me to go.

Nowhere to hide.

And now my carelessness has put a target on Wyatt’s back.

Matt sure as hell won’t let it go that I was living with another man, especially a fellow cop. Hopefully, having me leave with him so easily will soften whatever he’s planning to do to both me and Wyatt.

Until then, I’ll be walking on eggshells, just waiting for him to come at me. And it could be for anything. Maybe I’ll forget to put a dish away. Maybe I’ll say something offhand that he finds offensive. Or maybe, I won’t be doing anything at all, and he’ll just lunge at me.

It’s how I learned not to talk or be seen when he was home. It was safer if I was out of sight and out of mind.

But I’ve never tried to leave before. And the fallout is going to be so fucking bad and like nothing I’m prepared for.

Matt is smiling so manically, that he’s probably already planned out exactly how he’s going to punish me. I bet the sick bastard is fantasizing about it. But his pretending that everything is okay isn’t going to last long.

And the next time he comes after me, I’m going to die.

Despite knowing these facts, all I can think about is that I’m never going to see Wyatt again. Hopefully, after Matt takes his anger out on me, he’ll leave Wyatt alone.

I doubt it, but I can pray.

Part of me wants Wyatt to come after me because, well, who wouldn’t want to stay alive?

But I don’t want to ruin his life when his future is so bright. Having Grant as a boss is going to be great for him, and I don’t think Grant will bow down to Matt’s dad and fire Wyatt without cause.

My only advantage is that Matt isn’t expecting me to fight back and, this time, I have to try. He expects me to run, to hide, and to placate him.

But I won’t.

I’m my only hope of saving myself.

He has guns in the house, and if I can’t get one, there are kitchen knives to grab. I won’t go down without a fight. Even though I’ll lose, Matt won’t come out unscathed.

I was expecting Matt to ask me a barrage of questions, but he’s barely said a word to me. I can’t figure out if it’s a good or bad thing, but my guess is that it’s bad – very bad.

Either he already knows everything, or he doesn’t care what I have to say and has already decided what happens to me.

“Are we stopping on the way?” I ask quietly.

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