NEVER TURN BACK
Copyright © 2014 by Amy Stephens
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of Amy Stephens, except for the use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Cover design by Sprinkles on Top Studios
Photo courtesy of Shutterstock/Vita Khorzhevska
Interior formatting by Integrity Formatting
Dedication
Prologue
Part One
Chapter 1 ~ Jennifer
Chapter 2 ~ Brian
Chapter 3 ~ Todd
Chapter 4 ~ Jennifer
Chapter 5 ~ Brian
Chapter 6 ~ Jennifer
Chapter 7 ~ Todd
Chapter 8 ~ Brian
Chapter 9 ~ Jennifer
Chapter 10 ~ Todd
Chapter 11 ~ Brian
Part Two
Chapter 12 ~ Jennifer
Chapter 13 ~ Todd
Chapter 14 ~ Jennifer
Chapter 15 ~ Todd
Chapter 16 ~ Jennifer
Chapter 17 ~ Jennfer
Coming Soon ~ Heart of the Matter, a Coming Home novella
About the Author
To Melissa and Abbie
One hundred fifty-one, one hundred fifty-two, one hundred fifty-three.
That’s the number of cars that have driven past me since I began counting them almost two hours ago.
One hundred fifty-four.
A white mid-size sedan passes by me headed east in the direction of the interstate. I turn my head suddenly hoping to get a better glimpse of the car, but I’m only able to see its red taillights. For a moment, I feel a slight bit of panic. I continue to watch the car until it gets so far away, that I’m no longer able to make anything of it. The taillights fade into the night. I’m fairly certain there have been numerous cars pass by me tonight that were white, since it is a popular color, but for some reason, this one in particular makes me think of Jennifer. And I have to wonder if it could possibly be her?
One hundred fifty-two. Fifty-three.
Shit.
I am so distracted by the white car, and I quickly realize I’ve lost count.
I quickly crank the car and squeal my tires as I pull out from the parking lot and turn into oncoming traffic, not caring that I’ve just pulled out in front of a mid-size passenger truck. Horns blare from the truck and almost immediately, the driver flashes his lights on high-beam. I stick my arm up and make a hand gesture aimed towards the driver, but I know the truck can’t possibly see it in the dark. I really don’t care if he can or not, but, at the moment, the only thing on my mind is catching up to the white car that’s up ahead.
Thinking back to just a few hours ago, I would give anything right now for a chance to offer Jennifer an apology for my behavior. For crying out loud, I’m her freaking husband, and I’ve gone and done it again. I lost my temper then threw a glass bottle across the kitchen. When the bottle made contact with the sink, shards went flying everywhere even nicking her on the cheek. She finally mustered the courage and demanded I leave right then. From her crouched position on the floor, she glanced over her shoulder while keeping her stomach covered and glared up at me. Her eyes were full of hatred towards me and she was dead serious when she spoke. I don’t recall ever seeing this side of her the whole time we’ve been together including the incident involving her best friend Rebecca.
I am a stupid asshole and I’m not even sure if I could convince her I’m sorry and worthy of forgiveness at this point. Not now. I’m afraid it may be too late.
I notice the light ahead change to yellow signaling it is about to turn red. I let out a deep breath hoping I’ll be able to get close enough to the white car that’s still several car lengths ahead to see if it’s Jennifer or not. When the light changes to green I’m able to accelerate enough to weave in and out of the other cars and realize soon enough that it’s a completely different make of car, not to mention, there’s even an out of state tag on it as well. Damn it!
I shake my head in frustration. First of all, why would I even think Jennifer would be out this time of the night anyway? The clock on the dash shows it’s almost midnight. Knowing her, she either crawled in bed where she cried herself to sleep or she called Rebecca to come over fearing I may return. And if that’s the case, I’m doomed. With everything Rebecca has recently learned about me, I might as well start looking for a new place to stay. There’s no way she’s going to let me talk my way back into Jennifer’s life again, married or not.
Since there is no longer any reason to drive in this direction, I make a u-turn at the next intersection and head back towards town. I drive pass several fast food places in addition to several other retail establishments, including the hotel where Jennifer works, but there’s no reason to even pull through the parking lot tonight since she’s off. If I hadn’t lost my cool I could be cuddled on the sofa with her right now instead of driving around in the middle of the night, or better yet, we could be making love to each other. Damn it Brian! Now is not the time to be thinking about that.
With no particular place to go, I weigh my options—continue driving around wasting gas or return to our apartment. Maybe it’s been a reasonable amount of time and she’s settled down enough to where we could at least talk. I decide to take my chances.
A few turns later, I turn into the entrance of the apartment complex and follow the road all the way to the back where our apartment is. As I turn the corner, I find myself crossing my fingers that the extra parking spot isn’t occupied with Rebecca’s car. To my surprise though, both spots are empty. I immediately start to panic, fearing something serious may have happened to Jennifer. What if the cut on her cheek was more than just a nick and she couldn’t stop the bleeding? If she’s at the hospital won’t the staff question her about how it happened? What kind of story would she tell the doctors and nurses? Would she make up something to protect me or are the cops at the hospital making a report of all the details from our confrontation?
I pull into my spot, place the car in park and glance around before shutting off the engine. Slowly, I climb out of the car. For a Saturday night everything is eerily quiet. Yes, it’s late in the night, but there’s no activity going on anywhere.
I walk down the hallway and stop just outside the front door. I lean forward and place my ear against the door but there is nothing but silence coming from within the apartment. I walk to the corner of the building and see the light from the living room glowing around the blinds of the patio door. Walking back around to the door it’s as though I’m scared to touch the doorknob, fearful of what I might find on the other side. I insert my key into the lock but realize as I turn the key that the door isn’t even locked. Suddenly, I have a flashback of all the blood that covered Jennifer’s hands. It was just a small cut, but dang it, I hope she’s okay. God, I hope she didn’t need medical attention.
I hold my breath and push the door open. The lights are on throughout the apartment and the aroma of the lasagna meets my nose. I was really looking forward to our meal together earlier, but now, even though I still have not had anything to eat, I don’t think I could manage to eat a thing.
The apartment is silent except for the soft hum of the refrigerator. I glance towards the kitchen and see the bits of glass all on the countertop and scattered across t
he floor. I walk to the kitchen sink to get a better view and hear pieces of glass crunch underneath my shoes. I stop immediately when I notice drops of dried blood on the floor over in the corner next to the trash can. Images of earlier fill my head. Jennifer had been crouched in the corner, curled up as tight as she could be so as to protect the baby. She had tried to cover her face but a shard of glass had nicked her skin just below her eye causing blood to quickly ooze down her cheek. I remember her hands being coated in blood. What was I thinking when I threw the wine bottle across the room? How could I do something as stupid as this knowing she was carrying our baby? What if a piece of the glass had hit her in the stomach?
I can still hear Jennifer shouting at me to leave. She was firm and glared at me like someone else had taken over her body. The scene just keeps replaying over and over in my head. Where could she be?
I notice a trail of dried blood leading down the hallway towards the bathroom so I follow it. I stop in front of the bathroom sink and my eyes look down at the light pink rim left in the sink from where Jennifer must have attempted to clean the blood from her face. I see the bloody washcloth down in the trashcan has turned and dark shade of reddish-brown, but I don’t have the courage to pick it up.
I turn on the hot water in the sink and use my hands to scrub away any traces of blood. If someone does come to the apartment to question me, I need to make sure everything appears to be as normal as possible. I don’t need any red flags. It’s better to be safe than sorry. I pull a clean hand towel out from the drawer of the vanity and that’s when I realize something isn’t right. I pull out the other drawer on the other side of the sink as well, and sure enough, that’s when I notice items that should be here are not. Jennifer’s toothbrush, deodorant, hairdryer, and shampoo are all missing. It appears she has taken her personal items and left all of mine behind. I’m willing to bet anything she packed her things and ended up going over to Rebecca’s house. She was probably scared I was going to come back again.
I try to remain calm as I walk back to the bedroom. I tell myself it’s just for one night that she’ll be back home in the morning, afternoon at the very latest. And sure enough, after close examination, I realize the dresser drawers have been nearly emptied as well. The closet reveals the same thing. A few hangers are scattered on the floor. It appears like Jennifer was in a hurry to grab as much as possible before leaving the apartment. Shit! Shit!
I sit down on the side of the bed and prop my elbows on my knees. I take a deep breath, not knowing what to do next. I look over to the night stand and see the bracelet I had given her for Christmas sitting there. Jennifer was so happy when she opened up the package. I thought I had done pretty well by surprising her with it, even if Rebecca did help me with the purchase. I still owe that bitch one final payment, but after the stunt she pulled when I last saw her at the restaurant, I seriously doubt she’ll ever get it from me now. I can’t believe that once she discovered I no longer had my management job, she couldn’t wait to call Jennifer. And that is why I sit here now, all alone.
I pick up the bracelet and rub my fingers over the stones. This was the nicest gift I had ever given anyone that has any kind of significance to it. No, I’m not going to let this upset me. I will find Jennifer and we will work this out. We will patch this up again. I will put that bracelet back on her arm and we will be happy. I will prove to her Rebecca isn’t the friend she thinks she is. She doesn’t need this kind of friend who’s so quick to point out flaws.
I turn off the bedroom light as I go back into the kitchen again. I stop and stare at the mess I made. The room is an absolute mess.
As I walk towards the closet that has the washer and dryer to grab a broom, I realize it’s going to take more than just sweeping to clean this up. I find a bottle of cleaner underneath the sink and turn on the water. By the time the sink is filled, I have swept up most of the glass that I’m able to see. I should probably vacuum the floors in both the living room and even the kitchen just in case a splintered piece of glass is hidden somewhere on the carpet or in a corner where the broom missed. I decide to wait on this until morning. The last thing I need right now is the neighbor upstairs coming down to complain about the noise of a vacuum cleaner in the middle of the night.
I have no idea what time it’s getting to be but I’ve been busy cleaning for quite a while now. I wiped down the countertops and mopped the floor. Using a bottle of carpet cleaner I found, I use a sponge and scrub the carpet as best as I can to remove the blood stains. I’m pretty sure I’ll have to go back over the carpet again, but I’ll let it dry and check it again later.
I pat the pockets of my jeans and realize my cell phone’s not there. I curse myself for not thinking about this earlier. Jennifer could have been trying to reach me and I’ve not had the phone with me. How careless can I be?
I realize I must have left it in the car so I go outside to search the front seat for it. I turn on the overhead light making it easier to see and finally find the phone on the floor on the passenger side. I immediately check for any missed calls while hoping and praying she’s made an attempt to contact me.
A wave of disappointment washes over me when I see there’ve been no missed calls or texts from her. I wonder if I should call her, but talk myself out of it just in case, wherever she is, she’s sleeping. I admit, this is one time I’m glad her parents don’t live here anymore. If they had been here, I’m pretty sure tonight would have been much worse. I’d hate to know I had to deal with her old man, but fathers don’t like their little girls getting hurt, emotionally or physically. As for me, my father could give a damn about me.
I slowly walk back inside, not bothering to lock the door behind me. I sit down on the sofa, exhausted from the night’s events. I have never cleaned so much in my life. It’s no wonder women are always so tired when they’ve had to clean the house. I look around the apartment and all I can think about is Jennifer. Where is she? I need to know if she’s okay. I need to know that she and our baby are safe. So this is what it feels like when someone walks out on you?
I figure it’s probably best to wait until morning to try calling her since I’ve not heard from her by now. I switch on the television to fill the silence. My phone shows it’s already four in the morning so I shut my eyes. Within minutes my breathing has evened and I fall into a deep sleep.
One month later…
There is nothing more peaceful than sitting on the front porch, enjoying a cup of coffee and taking in a beautiful sunrise. I feel the fluttering sensation of the baby moving around inside my belly and I place my hand over the spot. There’s still a couple of months left before I get to meet my baby girl and the time can’t pass soon enough. I’m excited and nervous at the same time.
My mind drifts back on the past few weeks; I had been through such an emotional rollercoaster ride with Brian. It had taken lots of courage, in fact, more courage than I thought I ever had in me, but I finally had had enough of Brian’s crap. That night was the final straw. No one can ever say I don’t believe in giving someone a second chance, or even a third chance for that matter. But there comes a time when things happen and you start to fear for your own safety. In my case, I had to fear for the baby too.
I don’t regret leaving that painful night. Everything about it is still so vivid in my mind. I reach up to my cheek, just below my right eye, and touch my finger to the light scar. It’s still sensitive to touch, but the cut has healed nicely. There’s barely a trace of the scar, and you would almost have to be right up in my face to notice it. But I know it’s there, right along with the inner scars that plague my emotions.
I know, over time, it will get easier, and I’ve progressed tremendously this past month, but I know the minute I see the face of my daughter, I’m going to be reminded again of Brian. I can push him far away in my mind and do my best to pretend he never happened, but the fact that we share a child together, is something I’ll never be able to change.
The night I left had been one o
f the scariest moments of my life. I knew I had no other choice but to get away from him as quickly as possible. Surprisingly, when I had demanded he leave, he did, thus allowing me time to gather up my things. I wish I had had more time to pack more of my personal belongings, but I didn’t know how much time I had before he showed back up again. I moved quickly and grabbed what personal documents I felt I would probably need. Thankfully, I kept all that stuff together in one drawer. I had no plans to come back here ever again. I feared for my life and for the life of my unborn child. Next time I might not be so lucky to escape with just a small cut.
Just weeks ago, after another incident with Brian, I had made the decision to go back home to him. I believed I could help Brian change.
We had been on a nine hour road trip for me to meet Brian’s parents for the very first time when the argument had taken place. A little more than halfway, at my demand, Brian had pulled off the side of the interstate when the argument between us had gotten out of control and his driving had scared me. I got out of the car and began walking to the next exit. Tired and upset, I had entered a Waffle House. Todd Williams and his grandfather had been in the restaurant eating that afternoon and had been able to see everything unfold. Brian ended up leaving me behind, hours from home, and Todd had agreed to drive me back to meet my best friend Rebecca. Not many people would be willing to do this, especially when it involved a domestic dispute, but Todd did. I shared a little bit of information with him and ended up sleeping the rest of the way. We had exchanged phone numbers and I promised him I would call if I was ever in a situation and needed help again. While some people may have said to call them just to be saying it, I honestly felt like Todd had really meant it.
Over the course of a couple of weeks, things between Brian and I had improved somewhat but I still thought about Todd. Why had he come to my rescue that night?
Never Look Back (Coming Home Book 2) Page 1