The window. It’s my only chance.
I unlock it with fumbling fingers and push it open. It’s a six-foot drop to the ground. Not ideal, but better than staying here. I swing one leg over the sill, then the other, lowering myself as far as I can before letting go.
The impact jars my already battered body, but I don’t have time to acknowledge the pain. I hear the crash of the library door giving way behind me. Eli curses as he sees the open window. I run.
My legs are weak, unsteady, but adrenaline drives me forward. The driveway stretches ahead, the gate at its end both a barrier and my best hope for escape. Valerie and Mia are on the other side, calling and waving me forward.
I’m halfway down the driveway when I hear Eli behind me. His footsteps pound on the pavement, closing the distance between us with terrifying speed. I push harder, ignoring the screaming protest of my ribs and muscles.
Too slow. I’m too slow.
Eli’s fist connects with my back, between my shoulder blades, with enough force to send me sprawling forward. My hands instinctively go out to break my fall, but the impact still scrapes my cheek against the rough pavement. I taste blood, feel the sting of torn skin.
“You don’t get to leave,” Eli pants, standing over me again. “You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”
Behind him, at the gate, I see movement. Valerie and Mia, both clutching baseball bats, their faces twisted with rage and fear.
“Don’t fucking touch her!” Valerie screams, rattling the gate. “Get away from her, you psycho!”
Eli turns, momentarily distracted by their yelling. It’s the opening I need. I roll to the side, out of his immediate reach, and struggle to my feet.
“It’s over, Eli,” I say, the taste of blood sharp on my tongue. “We’re over.”
His face contorts with fury. “Nothing’s over until I say it is.”
He lunges for me again, but freezes at the sound of an engine revving. We both turn to see Mia in the driver’s seat of Valerie’s car, her face a mask of determination. Before either of us can react, she floors it.
The gate groans, then gives way with a screech of tearing metal as Valerie’s car bursts through. Eli jumps back, narrowly avoiding being hit, as the car skids to a stop between us.
Valerie yanks open the back passenger door. “Get in!” she shouts.
I don’t hesitate. I dive into the car, slamming the door shut just as Eli recovers enough to grab for me. His fist pounds on the window, his face a contorted mask of rage.
“Drive!” Valerie yells, and Mia stomps on the accelerator.
The car lurches forward, then stops with a jolt as flashing lights suddenly illuminate the driveway. Police cars, their sirens wailing, pour through the broken gate. Eli freezes, his eyes widening as officers emerge with weapons drawn.
“Police! Hands where we can see them!”
Eli raises his hands slowly, his face transforming in an instant from rage to confusion, as if he can’t understand how this is happening to him.
An officer approaches our car, gesturing for Mia to roll down the window. “Are you the ones who called in the domestic disturbance?”
Valerie shakes her head, her hand gripping mine tightly. “No. But he was trying to kill her.”
The officer’s gaze shifts to me, taking in the blood on my face, the bruises already forming on my exposed skin. His expression hardens.
“We’ll need statements from all of you,” he says, then turns to watch as his colleagues handcuff Eli.
Through the windshield, I watch the man who has controlled my life for ten years being led to a police car, his head bowed in a performance of bewilderment and innocence that I’ve seen too many times before.
“It’s over,” Mia says, her voice soft but firm. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”
I lean back against the seat, exhaustion crashing over me in waves. My body is a map of pain, each bruise and scrape a landmark of what I’ve survived. But for the first time in years, I feel something beyond the pain, beyond the fear.
I feel free.
25
