Page 46 of Broke Down Single Mom

“I guess I’ll have to decide on the spot.”

His expression tells me he doesn’t like that and I get it. I wouldn’t either if I were in his shoes. Luke is tempted to kill that fucker, too, but I won’t let him destroy his life. He’s worked so hard to get this security firm up and running. He loves Avery and the girls. Kellan loves them, too. They would be with her if I’m no longer around.

She’s worth it.

She’s worth the sacrifice. I’ll let the old monster out of me for one last run. All I need is an hour ahead of Kellan and enough bullets to remove Daniel from this world. Then, and only then, will Avery be able to breathe again.

23

Avery

The paranoia is definitely getting to me. I no longer know what’s real and what’s imagined. Kellan may have gotten into my head a little bit, too, causing me to wonder if I really did see Daniel the other day, but every fiber in my body is screaming at me that it was real. It felt too real in my gut and the way my body reacted for it to be just a bad dream or a hallucination. It was him. I cannot doubt myself on this. There is too much at stake.

I pull up outside the girls’ school in North Platte shortly after I finish at the Masons’ house. I was unable to accomplish much unfortunately but I can’t focus, and the last thing I need is a dissatisfied customer just as I’m trying to build my career and pull myself back together. Looking around as I get out of my car, I notice an eerie quiet.

There was supposed to be a Wolfhound car parked across the street—a black sedan with chrome rims and WLF on the plate. I don’t see them anywhere. My stomach churns as I take one last glance around. Maybe I missed them. But the street is unusually clear with barely a hint of traffic. It’s snowing, so I’m sure that’s contributing to less people being on the roads.

I make my way into the building and stop by the secretary’s desk, first. I can hear teachers talking and children laughing from nearby rooms. The walls are covered in warm, walnut wood paneling, the floors dressed in lacquered hardwood, and hundreds of colorful kids’ artwork hanging everywhere. It’s supposed to inspire serenity and inspiration, yet it’s not working on me. Then again, I’m a walking trainwreck, so I shouldn’t be surprised that I’m unable to emotionally connect to the environment and allow it to soothe me. What’s important is that Miley and Annie love being here.

Which will make leaving this place that much harder.

“Good afternoon,” the secretary greets me with an expression of surprise. Her face is weathered but kind. “Can I help you?”

“Hi. Yes,” I reply with a tight smile. “I was hoping I could get my girls out early today. Miley and Annie Madison”

The secretary gets up and shakes my hand. “I’m Mary, nice to meet you. You’re Miley and Annie’s mother?”

“Yes. Avery Madison. Sorry, I didn’t introduce myself,” I reply, laughing nervously.

“That’s alright. Can I see some ID, if you don’t mind?”

I’m relieved to know they check IDs, that not just anybody can walk in and pick kids up without properly identifying themselves first. It should comfort me, but I still can’t shake this constant feeling of uneasiness currently broiling in the pit of my stomach. I fish the fake driver’s license out of my purse and show it to her. She carefully checks it, then instantly relaxes and smiles broadly.

“Thank you,” Mary says. “’I’ll go fetch the girls. Please, have a seat.”

She points at a couple of chairs close to her desk, and I nod in appreciation, but I don’t think I’m able to sit down. I need to see Annie and Miley. I watch Mary as she walks over to the end of the hallway, her short, square heels clicking across the hardwood.

Every second that passes adds more tension to my shoulders. A weight settles on the back of my neck, its grip tightening until I feel as though I’m being held firmly in place in a manner similar to one of the many waking nightmares I’ve had since I left Daniel. From the moment I saw him outside that café, I have experienced a deluge of every single trauma that has nestled deep within me. I thought I’d found true love and a savior in the guise of this man. He took me out of a miserable situation only to put me in something much worse. It took me a long time to realize the hard truth.

Now, it’s even harder to come to terms with what happened, mainly because it’s still happening. He is still hounding me, actively seeking to hurt me. I don’t know what more I can handle. I hate the idea of leaving Kellan, Fallon, and Luke—especially after everything they’ve done for me. But I do have this fake ID and bank account that I can use going forward. It could keep me off the radar long enough to find a way out of the country. Mexico sounds nice… me and my girls away from it all, starting over.

It's the path of a coward, my dad would say. My dad’s not here though and I’m alone. As much as I want to believe that the Cassidy twins and Luke are by my side, what gives me the right to irreparably alter their lives and careers because of my choices? I chose Daniel a long time ago. I kept choosing him until I’d finally had enough. This is my cross to bear. My demon to vanquish.

Mary comes back into the office with an odd look on her face and without my girls. In the back of my head, the worst-case scenario is already taking shape, its poisonous tendrils reaching out, stinging my ears and temples.

“I’m sorry, there seems to have been a misunderstanding,” Mary says upon reaching me.

“What do you mean? Where are Miley and Annie? Aren’t they in class?” I ask, but my voice is trembling. Panic is quickly setting in.

“It appears a gentleman from Wolfhound Security picked them up about an hour ago,” Mary replies, then shows me a sign-in registry. “He signed in and out with a Wolfhound Security badge number, full name, and phone number. I had an appointment this morning, so the principal handled it. We’ve worked with Wolfhound many times and knew they were security for your girls, so she didn’t think anything of it.”

“This can’t be happening,” I mumble, dread washing over me.

Mary tries to touch my shoulder, but I slap her hand away. “I’m sorry. This is the agent’s number, please, do give them a call. We did our due diligence.”

She’s still talking when I decide to turn away and walk back out into the cold of winter. I’m shaking like a leaf as I try to dial that number on my cellphone, only to reach an automated voicemail.

“The number you have reached is currently unavailable. Please leave a message after the tone,” the robot says.

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