Knowing Owen would be out still, he'd said he had to go help his dad with some side job, I carried my plunder back home. There was something about the privacy, the silence, that made me really sink comfortably into the kitchen chair to enjoy my treat. The coffee was hot, the muffin plump, sweet. I had hardly eaten two bites of it when the front door jingled near me.
Keys, I thought, a sickening rush of fear over taking me, Owen is back.
He entered quickly, his eyes fixing on me instantly. “My freakin' dad, he tells me to meet him for noon, then he doesn't even...” His voice trailed off, his expression darkening. I wished I could have shrunk down, just vanishing. “What are you eating?”
“A muffin,” I answered stupidly. What else could I say? The taste in my mouth was sour, the food in my stomach a heavy, hard ball. Owen approached me, his body tense, eyes scorching.
“Why would you do that to yourself? You know better.”
“I just wanted a snack, I don't ever have snacks, it isn't a big deal!”
He was standing over me, hands at his sides, fingers twitching. I didn't know what he was going to do, but my adrenaline was pumping. “Yeah? You don't do this when I'm not here, get some shitty food and eat it behind my back?”
“No! Of course not—”
“You're such a liar!” He snapped, my chest tightening like someone was squeezing it. Every inch of me wanted to run, my spine was pressed hard into my seat. “What the hell, Leah?” He moved, making me flinch as he grabbed the arms of my chair, his face inches from mine while he shouted. “I thought you cared about your health!”
Trembling, I pulled back, but there was no where to go. His eyes were full of poison, I could almost feel the heat of his anger. “Stop it, please stop yelling at me...”
“I wouldn't yell if you listened! You're so damn stupid sometimes, Leah!” He was seething, suddenly a monster so different than the man he'd been that morning in bed. I thought about Colby's words.
“I'm not stupid,” I muttered, gritting my teeth. “Stop yelling at me.”
“I will when you stop messing up constantly!”
“No!” I screamed, the tension finally snapping inside of me. My face was warm, hands reaching out, pushing him away. I needed to get up, he was making me feel trapped.
Owen stepped back, staring at me dubiously. My fingers itched, I kept them raised up in front of me. “No,” I said again, shivering. “You're going to stop yelling at me. I'm done with it.” Am I doing this, am I standing up to him? I'd never tried before, it was a whole different kind of fear, yet a liberating one. I grabbed on to that feeling, worked to steady my shaking knees.
My boyfriend tilted his head, a hawk watching his prey. I didn't want to compare myself to a mouse, but right then, I felt very small. “You're done?” His stance as he stepped forward, his body only inches from mine, was terrifying. I had seen him angry so many times, but this seemed very different. “You're done?”
Do something, Leah, anything! Run! Move!
He grabbed me, lifting me with ease. Roughly, like I wasn't even human, he shoved me backwards with his full strength, and I wasn't prepared. I couldn't have been. Owen had shouted at me, screamed at me, made me afraid of him so many times... but he had never really tried to hurt me. Not before that moment.
Caught off guard, I slammed into the kitchen table, the sound of something wet in my ears. The floor was cold, but I didn't care. Sprawled out, the breath kicked from me, I could only gawk up at the man who had finally shown me a side he had kept buried for so long. Four years we had dated, and through it all, he had controlled this beast.
Something touched my hand, I saw the wet sound from before had come from my coffee spilling. It pooled on the linoleum, soaking my fingers, the side of my leg. Still, I just stared at Owen, seeing my own shock reflected in his face.
“It was an accident,” he suddenly mumbled, sounding like even he didn't believe it.
“I know,” I heard myself say, but didn't know why. Am I that much of a coward? How could that have been an accident? He extended a hand down to me, so I took it, letting him assist me up. Why am I letting him touch me? He just hurt me, I should... what should I do? “You... you just threw me into the table.”
“You made me so angry, I... I'm sorry.” He searched my face, I wondered what he saw. All I knew was he didn't seem to have a shred of actual regret in his eyes.
He'll do it again, you know it.
He went to hug me, I pushed him aside, heading for the bedroom. “Where are you going?” His voice was nervous, but I didn't answer him. I simply shut the door, locked it, and sat on my bed.
Did that really just happen?
“Hey, Leah,” he knocked on the door, insistent. “Hey, open up, let's just talk a second.”
Looking up, I stared at the wall, debating my choices. I could let him in, we could talk about what had just happened. He'd probably apologize, then I'd... what? Forgive him? Go back to what we were doing before?
My adrenaline was fading, the pain from colliding with the table starting to ache. I could tell I wasn't injured badly, but knew there would be an ugly bruise on me for some time.
I can't do this anymore. I just can't.
The other option was tempting, but...
Run away.
“Hey, Leah, come on.” He tapped the door, softer this time.
Could I really do it, leave Owen, leave everything? Just run away from it all? Maybe I'm a coward, but that sounds pretty great right now.
I grabbed my laptop, a backpack, then began packing my things.
****
When I finally came out of the bedroom, Owen had been quiet for some time. I didn't know if he had left or not, so I felt a stab of fear when I saw him sitting in a kitchen chair. He'd moved the table back into place, wiped up the spilled coffee. There was no sign of the muffin, part of me found that strangely upsetting.
His eyes lit up when I came out, but they darted to the laptop case hanging over my shoulder, then the small backpack I wore. “Where are you going?”
“I... don't know, exactly.” It was the truth.
“Don't do this.” He stood, approaching me like I was ready bolt. I couldn't be sure I wouldn't, my eyes shooting to the front door to my left. It's right there, so close, if I move fast I...
Owen met my gaze, apparently sensing my intent.
My hand grabbed the doorknob, I shoved my way out into the hall as fast as I could. We lived on the second floor, and the stairwell was my next obstacle. I didn't get that far, something yanked sharply at my shoulder.
Spinning, fighting with his grip, Owen's fingers were a vice on my laptop. He was just far too strong, in seconds he'd torn my bag free. “Give me that!” I snapped, hands extended.
Owen lifted the computer, my horror surging when he held it out over the stairwell ledge. If he let go, my laptop would be smashed for sure. Even that padded bag couldn't have saved it. “Don't,” I gasped, hearing my own terror. His eyes lit up, hopeful, and he motioned behind him.
“Come back inside, let's talk.”
I looked from his face, to my laptop, judging how serious he was. I can't risk it... if I'm going to get out of here, I need that computer.
“Okay.”
He slumped, relieved, so I followed him back inside like a lost dog. I didn't sit, though, I kept the door open, standing near it with my arms folded tight as if to give me armor. He seemed to debate on if he should move closer to me or not, his body hunching, feet shifting as he held my bag. I wondered if he felt ashamed about blackmailing me.
“Leah,” he started, his voice weak. “I'm just sorry, okay? I didn't mean to shove you.” He leveled a serious look at me, his hand gesturing, fingers spread. Just seeing his arm move like that made me flinch; I hated it, hated it to my core. “It wasn't that bad, alright? It was just an accident.”
An accident?
“I know,” I said carefully. “It's okay, I forgive you.” I don't, I can't.
“You ca
n't leave, not like this. Promise me you won't leave over something so stupid.”
Lifting my gaze, I watched him from under my furrowed eyebrows. Stupid? Am I really overreacting?
Owen hung his head, and to my surprise, he offered me my laptop. I took it eagerly, hooking it back on my shoulder. “Why don't you just get some air? Go for a walk, we'll talk about everything when you're ready.” He spoke like he was doing me a favor, making me notice how, even now, he was instructing me on how I should behave.
When his dark eyes met mine again, they looked distressed, like he was caught up in his own conflicting emotions. It was enough to break down my barrier, just enough. My stomach ached with the shame of feeling myself already giving in to his plaintive manipulation.
“Yes, alright.” No, no, don't agree, just get out of here!
With that, I turned my back on my boyfriend, leaving on trembling legs.
I wouldn't see him again for a very long time.
Chapter 2.
––––––––
I wish I could say I had a really good plan on what I would do next.
Instead, I ended up at a nearby bar, drinking at the proud hour of two o'clock. I was the only one there, and I didn't care how pathetic that looked.
It amazed me how fast everything had happened, how I was still so angry about it all. Staring into my drink, I debated on what I should do. Most people could have called their families, but the very concept brought a bitter twist to my frown.
Growing up, my whole life had been full of rough poverty. Of course, as a kid, I'd had no idea how bad off we were. My father worked all day in the glamorous world of factory labor, while my mother was an expert at finding ways to lose the money he earned. Every time she would write a check, she'd write it for more than she needed. You know, buying a 'soda' for us kids. The extra money she'd get back in cash, spending it while we were none the wiser.
Gambling was her passion, she was convinced that one day, one of those scratch tickets would change our lives, then she'd show everyone. She was right of course, just not in the way she'd hoped.
Losing the house to bankruptcy was hard on my parents, but by that point, I'd gone so far into my imagination, my books and my art, that I was oblivious to the hardship. My way of coping was to run away mentally, emotionally. It wasn't healthy for a kid, but who was paying attention? After that, though, nothing got better.
Can a family just be unlucky?
As it was, they one day abandoned me and my little sister. Just got in their car, driving away. I ended up moving in far too quickly with my boyfriend. My sister... well. She stayed with a friend's family, no one said a word. I was just nineteen, she was only sixteen.
My parents never recovered, they were worse off than even I was. After they'd come back to our home state, they couldn't find much work, and ended up moving in with my mom's sister. They'd been living in a spare room.
There was no place for me there.
Trying to stay with my sister, wherever she was sleeping now, was pointless as well. We didn't get along one bit.
I could call Colby, but what could he do? Tell me he had been right, or what if, since he was friends with Owen, he tried to coax me into coming back? What if I tell him I plan on leaving completely, and he lets it slip to Owen somehow? It was unlikely, given our talk that morning, but the idea made me nauseous.
The reality was depressing; I didn't have many friends. Ever since I'd started dating Owen, I had become rather isolated. Still, there was someone I knew I could call, if just to talk. Vanessa, would she have some advice?
Vanessa Dole was a childhood friend of mine, but we hadn't seen each other since she'd moved to California five years ago. She'd gone off to school to make it as a fashion designer, and I... well. I hadn't exactly managed to achieve my dreams.
Whenever we did talk, I felt sour about being reminded that she had managed to chase her passion, to succeed, while I had let my own ambitions fall by the wayside.
But I bet she'd let me vent. What have I got to lose?
Finishing my drink, feeling the buzz of it already, I pushed my empty glass towards the bartender, dialing into my phone. It rang, and rang, until I was sure she wouldn't answer. Then it clicked, her voice coming through.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Vanessa, it's me.” I heard the fake cheer in my own voice.
“Leah! What's up, is—is something wrong?”
I laughed cynically, grabbing the new drink the man slid to me over the bar, taking a sip. “How did you know something was wrong?”
“Your voice, you sound weird. Are you... drinking?”
Taking a long swig, I paused before answering. “Yes.”
“Tell me what happened.”
And so I did. I realized, as I was explaining everything, that I had told Vanessa so little about my boyfriend before that moment. Was he my boyfriend still? No, of course not. That much I knew I had control over, we were done.
I was a little drunk by the end of my tale, also perhaps too loud, since the bartender was staring at me.
How had that happened, how had I become so isolated from everyone in my life? Even Vanessa, who I talked to almost exclusively through email or on the phone, we'd never discussed anything serious. Had I been avoiding it all, knowing subconsciously that, if I brought it up, everyone would have reacted like Colby did? Told me what I must have known deep down for years, that Owen was abusive? I didn't even want to think that word. Putting a label on what he had done made me feel stupid and weak.
Have I been burying myself in the sand this long?
“Listen, Leah,” she said, her tone uneasy, “you can't go back. You really have no where else to go?”
I thought about my car, perhaps sleeping inside of it. But I wouldn't tell her that, how could I? “No, not really. I guess I'll figure something out. Thanks for listening, you're right. I can't go back to him, he was terrible to me! Wasn't he terrible? Am I overreacting?”
“No, no,” she assured me. “You sound kind of drunk, though. Okay, so listen. I have an idea, but it might be kind of crazy.”
I sat up, draining the last of my drink. “I'm feeling kind of crazy, go ahead.”
“Alright. Right. Um, so, why don't you just come stay here for a bit?”
Blinking, I glanced up, seeing the bartender staring at me. Turning sideways, I whispered into the phone. “Wait, you want me to go to California?”
“I kind of do, yeah. It might be a good change for you. Didn't you want to come out here anyway, when we first graduated?”
Of course I did, it was what I wanted more than anything else, but... Inhaling deeply, I shut my eyes, trying to think through my fog of alcohol. Could I really do that? Go to California? I'd have to go across the country, it was really as far as one person could travel while staying in the states. If I did leave, was I doing it for the right reasons? Was I just running away from my problems even further, or could this actually be the right path for me?
Calling it a problem, like I should waste anymore time trying to fix this relationship, solve it somehow. No, no, I want to be done, I need to get away. Is that really so terrible? What's wrong with escaping?
I slammed some money down on the bar, grabbed my laptop, started typing. “Hope you weren't going to change your mind, Vanessa, I'm buying my ticket right now.”
****
I hadn't been entirely truthful to Vanessa.
Honestly, I had almost no money. I knew there was only one way to afford this trip. Luckily, I was ready enough, and drunk enough, to make the decision.
It's amazing how easy it is to sell a car online these days.
The guy met me back at my place, during which I spent most of my time shooting nervous looks up at the apartment windows. I didn't see Owen, I suspected he might have gone out, but my hair still prickled while I was there. After the heavy-set man who'd shown up looked my old vehicle over, he paid me two grand in cash, no questions asked, then drove the car away. Most pe
ople would assume he must have been some style of drug dealer, but having come from a family that never had bank accounts due to the number of debt collectors chasing them, I made no judgments.
I was feeling pretty amazing, my heart thrumming, my lips actually shaped like a smile. Taking risks, it was part of life. There was no looking back.
I sobered up some by the time I walked to the bank.
Oh my god, did I really just sell my car?
I knew Owen was going to be furious, because while it was my car, I had been letting him use it the four years we'd dated. He'd never had his own, it was part of how we had come to rely on each other so much. My stomach sank, thinking about how pissed he would be.
The sweat was cold on my back, but I set my mouth into a tight line, approaching the counter at the bank. It isn't my problem anymore. He'll have to handle things on his own.
Mostly, though, I had just given myself a reason not to see him ever again. I was truly too scared for myself, now.
I deposited the money, then stopped at the ATM, doing a quick inventory of myself. I had a checkbook, about forty bucks in cash, and that left me twenty-one hundred in the bank.
Finally, I set my laptop up, ordering a plane ticket. A one-way was expensive, but far better than a round trip. She said I could visit, if I can't find a way to afford to stay, I'll just... figure it out later.
Texting Vanessa, I told her I'd be arriving tomorrow, then set off to do the one last thing I needed to.
I wanted to say goodbye to my parents.
The bus was slow, but that was fine. It gave me time to think about what I was really doing. I can't believe it's happening, I'm finally leaving this place. Watching the dirty brown, broken buildings and vacant, useless stores as the bus rumbled down the torn up roads, it only reinforced my decision.
It was funny, Owen had actually been the one to push me into this. I'd never have guessed it, but part of me thanked him for showing me his true colors.
I hopped off the bus when it neared my destination, walking the last few blocks to the tiny house. The sun was finally peeking through the clouds, warming my skin, lifting my spirit.
Tangled: A New Adult Romance Boxed Set (12 Book Bundle of Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Royalty) Page 84