I climbed down from the shelves with my stash and knelt to tuck two-thirds of my roll of bills in one of the inner pockets of my backpack.The rest I put in my jeans pocket before I zipped the bag with a decisive tug.“He won’t.”
“But what if he does?”Zelda demanded, turning from the window at last.“What’s the plan?We need a plan.”She stood there, wiry and small for her age, jaw set in defiance, and I saw myself at fifteen, facing down a world that only wanted to use me.But the difference was, Zelda had me.And I would die before I let anyone hurt her or her sister.
“The plan is we get as far away as possible.I have a friend in Nashville --” I didn’t really.Andy had systematically cut every person from my life, one by one, until there was no one left to notice the bruises he was careful to leave where clothes would cover.“We’ll be fine.I have a place to go when we get there.Just for a few days, until I can figure out somewhere permanent.”
Not a friend’s place.A shelter for abused women.I’d spent the hours since I’d heard Andy talking trying to find some place a reasonable distance where I could still be far enough to hide from Andy.Nashville was three hours away.I’d found a family attorney with so many positive reviews I had to at least ask if they knew of a safe shelter in the area.Lana Thompson had given me the phone number of a shelter willing to give us time to get there without giving our space away.In fact, after I’d explained the situation to her, she’d said they’d be more than happy to hold us a space as long as we needed to stay.
“Will he be mad?”Kira asked, her fingers worrying at the rabbit’s ear.
A hysterical laugh bubbled up in my throat, which I swallowed down.Mad didn’t begin to cover what Andrew Harlow would be when he discovered we were gone.With what he owed to his business associates, the kind of men who’d accept a child as payment, our disappearance would be more than an inconvenience.It would likely be a death sentence.Whether for him or us was the real question.
“Doesn’t matter what he feels,” I said, slinging the backpack over my shoulder.“We need to move.Now.”
Zelda took Kira’s hand automatically, positioning herself between her sister and the door, a habit she’d developed years ago.I led them down the back stairs.At the kitchen door, I paused, scanning the small yard that backed up to an alley.Empty.For now.
“Stay close,” I whispered.“If I tell you to run, you run.Understand?You don’t stop until I say so.”I took a deep breath, twisted the lock, and pushed open the door to the life I was leaving behind.
We slipped through backyards like shadows, avoiding the pools of light from streetlamps.The sodium glow gave everything a sickly orange tint, turning familiar landmarks sinister.Kira stumbled once over an unseen root, and I caught her before she fell, my heart hammering so hard I thought it might crack my ribs.
Three blocks.Four.Five.The backpack straps cut into my shoulder, but the pain was clarifying.It kept me moving forward when fear threatened to freeze my limbs.We emerged onto Main Street just as the bus pulled up to the stop, its brakes hissing like a warning.
“Go,” I urged, giving Zelda a gentle push toward the doors.“Window seats.Back of the bus.”
The driver barely glanced at us as we paid.Zelda claimed the rear corner, where she could see everything, pulling Kira into the seat beside her.I took the seat across the aisle, arranging our bags as a barrier between us and the rest of the bus.
The doors closed.The engine rumbled.And with a lurch that made my stomach heave, we were moving.Away from the house that had been a prison.Away from the man who thought he owned us.
As the lights of our neighborhood faded behind us, I pressed my forehead against the cool glass and made a silent promise to my daughters, to my stars.No one would ever hurt them again.No one would ever use them as bargaining chips or punching bags or playthings.Not Andy, not his associates, not anyone.I’d failed them before, staying too long, believing things would change.But I wouldn’t fail them again.
The bus picked up speed, carrying us into darkness and uncertainty.But for the first time in years, uncertainty felt like hope instead of dread.Not hope, exactly, but certain knowledge that, for good or for ill, our lives were about to change forever.
Chapter One
Penny
I stepped off the city bus with leaden legs, my hand automatically reaching back to make sure the girls followed.Four buses and nearly seven hours of travel with all the stops and waiting and…stuff, had left us hollow-eyed and jittery.Nashville sprawled around us, indifferent to our arrival, the late afternoon sun cutting between buildings to cast long shadows across unfamiliar streets.A woman with vibrant red hair waited by the bus stop, her pale blue eyes scanning the disembarking passengers until they found us.She raised her hand in a small wave, and something in my chest tightened.This was our contact.The shelter worker.The next step in our escape.
“Penny?”she asked, her voice gentle but carrying enough to reach me over the bus’s idling engine.“I’m Violet.From New Beginnings.I believe we spoke on the phone earlier.”
I nodded, my throat too dry for words.Violet looked nothing like I’d expected.No social worker beige, no clipboard, no practiced professional sympathy.Instead, she wore jeans and a simple green T-shirt, her vibrant hair pulled back in a loose ponytail.She looked a few years older than me, with pale skin that showed the ghosts of freckles across her nose.A simple name badge with her first name and a picture with the New Beginning’s logo on it was the only way I knew she was here for me.
Zelda moved in front of Kira, her skinny shoulders squared, her small fists clenched at her sides.I recognized her posture, coiled tight, ready to either fight or run.Kira peered around her sister, clutching her threadbare rabbit against her chest, taking in everything with her quiet, calculating gaze.
“My car’s just over here,” Violet said, gesturing toward a small blue SUV parked against the curb.“It’s not far to the shelter, but I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to bring any of your things.Walking would almost be faster, but not if you had several things to carry.”She smiled as she led us to her vehicle, unlocking the doors as we approached.The girls sat in the back seat while I climbed in the front.Violet fastened her seat belt once she was inside, turning over her shoulder to smile at me and the girls.“No matter what situation you guys came from, no one in the world can promise you everything will be OK.But I can promise you that you’ll have the protection of both New Beginnings and our associates within the Nashville community.”
“He’ll search for the girls.”I spoke softly, my voice rough.My heart pounded, the adrenaline hitting me unexpectedly.I’d really done this.I’d left Andy.The enormity of my situation threatened to crash over me, but I held myself tightly in check by sheer force of will.
“We’ll be ready.There’s a lawyer we work with.I believe she’s the one who sent you our way.She does a lot ofpro bonowork for women who come to us.”Violet reached over and patted my knee gently.“You’re not alone, Penny.We’ll help you in every way possible.We’ll do that because, as the saying goes, it takes a village.We all have to help each other.”
I nodded my head, not wanting to cry, but Violet offered more than anyone else in my life.“Thank you.”The interior of Violet’s vehicle smelled faintly of cinnamon and something citrusy.Clean.Normal.It made my head spin, how normal it felt after the hours of tense hypervigilance.I wanted to just close my eyes and sleep for a week, but I was wired on fear and caffeine.
“You must be exhausted,” Violet said as she pulled away from the curb, her eyes flicking to the rear-view mirror.“New Beginnings is just around the corner.We’ve got a suite ready for you.”
Her words floated around me like debris, not quite landing.Each concept required effort to process, and I had nothing left to give.I nodded again, my gaze fixed on the passing storefronts and street signs, mentally marking our route in case we needed to find our way back.I needn’t have worried.We rolled through a chain-link gate not two blocks away.
My breath caught as the shelter came into view.What I’d expected was something… I don’t know.Institutional?Cinder blocks, barred windows, maybe a fence topped with barbed wire or something at the very least.What loomed before us was a renovated warehouse, four stories of weathered brick with large windows that caught the late afternoon sun.It looked solid, permanent.Defensible.
The grounds surrounding it were modest but well-kept, with small patches of grass and a few sturdy benches.A tall, heavily muscled man in a leather vest stood near the entrance, casually leaning against the wall.My fingers tightened around Zelda’s wrist.
