Page 19

“No,” he shouts, moving out of the doorway with sure, determined steps. Turning back to the door, my hand shakes violently as I grab the doorknob and yank the front door open.

My mind is mush and I’m running on basic instinct now. I shove the first suitcase out of the apartment just as Owen catches up to me. The second suitcase is behind me, between us and it stops him from being able to reach me.

“I told you that you weren’t leaving, Len.”

He grabs the suitcase, trying to pull it from my hands and in an act of desperation, I shove it into his large body with all the strength I can muster.

He stumbles back, ripping the suitcase from my hand and falling against the breakfast bar in the kitchen. I can’t be certain but I’m pretty sure he smacked his head against the bar when he fell.

But I don’t stop.

Grabbing my purse off the entry table where I left it, I reach around the door and lock it before stepping outside and pulling it closed.

It won’t buy me a ton of time but he’ll have to unlock it before he can come after me and it’ll give me an extra second. I look over at my suitcase next to me. Owen won’t stay down for long and I don’t have the time to carry it down the stairs myself. A plan forms in my mind, too fast for me to even think it though as I grab onto the luggage and throw it over the second-floor railing to the grass below.

A noise in the apartment behind me gets me moving again and I race down the stairs as fast as I can, pure adrenaline fueling my escape.

“No!” Owen roars from behind the apartment door and I let out a yelp, my heart thundering in my chest and my stomach churning.

Faster.

I need to go faster.

There is a faint crashing sound from the apartment just as I reach the bottom of the stairs but I don’t stop to investigate.

My suitcase is laying in the grass just two feet to my right and I race over to it, my hands trembling as I stand it up and begin running towards my Jeep.

Another crashing sound reaches me just as I get to the car. I have no idea what he’s trashing right now but it’s not my problem anymore. After tossing the suitcase in the back, I slide behind the wheel and start the engine, relief rushing through me.

I’m free.

“Lennon!” Owen’s voice echoes through the stillness of the night, drowning out the chirping of the crickets and katydids.

I look up to find him standing in the open doorway of our apartment, his chest heaving. His wild eyes lock onto me, sitting in the parking lot and he starts thundering down the stairs towards me, taking them two at a time.

No.

No.

No.

I’m so close.

In a panic, I put the car in reverse and back out of my parking spot. Owen is running now, trying to catch up to me before I slip through his fingers, and my heart climbs into my throat as I press down on the accelerator.

My tires squeal against the asphalt.

“Lennon,” he yells as I whip past him, a lump in my throat. He’s in the lot now, his bare feet smacking against the pavement. He runs after my Jeep, trying to catch me. But I’m far enough ahead that there is nothing he can do and we both know it. “You’re mine, Len. Mine! I’ll get you back, baby.”

Fuck me.

It was one thing when Owen was threatening to hurt himself and yelling my name from inside the apartment but him deciding he’s going to find a way to fix two years of bullshit and six months of absolute hell to win me back is a whole other thing.

He should know, after all this time together, that when I say I’m done, I mean it. I won’t be coming back to him. There will be no reconciliation or heartwarming reunion.

What was that Miley Cyrus quote?

I don’t fuck dead things.