“Don’t,” he snaps.
“Don’t what, Elias? Call you out? Because you used to be a good man.” I eye him up and down, tsking at what he’s allowed himself to become. “What happened to you? How did you become this way?”
His laugh is humorless. Ugly.
“You.”
“Me?”
“You ruined everything, you selfish bitch,” he seethes, voice rising. “You embarrassed me.”
I swallow roughly. “I wasn’t the abuser.”
A sharp, stinging thwack echoes in the van as the force of his backhand rocks my head to the side. My cheek heats with pain from a hit I didn’t see coming.
“You let your lawyer dig where he didn’t fucking belong.”
I feel my face pale. I’ll be lucky to make it to the airport at this point.
“The network didn’t like it,” he sneers. “Even though I told them it was bullshit. But they didn't believe me. Neither did my dad. They’re calling it an extended vacation…while they investigate me.”
He spits the words.
My fingers tremble as I tighten my hands into fists to try to control the shaking, grateful my nose quit bleeding, but needing to keep my hands busy.
I glance out my window, and my breath catches.
As subtly as I can, I tip my head backward, wondering if I saw what I think I did.
A cruiser parked with its lights off, facing the state route we’re on.
Please, I beg silently.Please see us. Please call it in.
“You think I wouldn’t find you?” He’s unraveling now. “Of course, you’d run to your piece-of-shit small town. How predictable and stupid of you to think I wouldn’t find you?”
“Of course, I ran. You beat me constantly.”
This time, I see the hit coming. I dodge my head in time to miss the force of his hand.
Elias curses, punching the steering wheel.
“Shut up, you stupid bitch. You don’t get to rewrite history.”
“It’s not rewriting when it’s the truth.Wake up.”
Headlights beam, filling the cabin as red and blue flashing lights pour in. Tears swell in my eyes as relief pumps through my veins. I feel my shoulders sag as my arms relax.
“Pull over,” I demand, voice shaking. “It’s over, Elias. You lost.”
He turns to me, eyes wide and wild as shadows and flashing lights paint his face almost demoniacally. And then he presses harder on the gas.
“I’m not losing you,” he promises, and my stomach twists. “You’re mine.”
The siren blares louder as it gets closer to our bumper.
And for the first time, I watch as real fear flickers across his face. For once, it’s him, not me. No matter what happens, I know someone tried to save me. And that’s all that matters.
Headlights greet us as we go around a curve. More red and blue lights streak against the night sky. Another cruiser appears. Then another.
