“Leave us alone!” Sophie yelled and shivered in fear behind Abbey’s leg. “Go away!”
“Why would I go away?” Tom grinned, “I’m here to bring you home. You’re my family, and I will never let you go.” He laughed out loud and pulled a gun out of his pocket, waved it around and kept laughing until that was the only thing that filled Abbey’s head.
Chapter 18
Abbey stirred milk into the pancake batter and let her eyes nervously dart to the table where Tom was holding the gun and talking to the kids.
Neither one of them was saying much, their eyes were on the gun as much as Abbey’s were.
She hated that this was their world now, part of her regretted ever leaving him because he now dragged their children into it. At least when she was home and acting as his punching bag, it was all taken out on her and the children were left alone.
Now that he felt betrayed by all three of them, he lumped them together with her and his violent vitriol spilled over, dragging them into his simmering anger.
“Who wants the first one?” Abbey asked in a cheerful voice, she hoped Tom didn’t notice how her teeth were gritted and she could barely squeeze the words past her tight lips.
“Do you want it?” Tom asked Zach. Zach didn’t even look up at him, he simply shook his head and looked across the table as Sophie. Abbey could see it in his eyes that he was trying to comfort her the best he could and her heart shattered at how miserable her children look.
“I guess it’s mine,” Tom said, “serve it up, baby.”
Abbey flipped the pancake onto a plate and poured batter for the next one as she smeared butter on Tom’s and picked up the syrup. She walked it to the table and turned to tend to the next pancake when Tom’s hand snaked out and gripped her wrist in an iron vice.
“Where you going?” Tom demanded. “Why are you always running away like that?”
“I have to check the next one, I don’t want it to burn,” Abbey said, hiding the pain of his fingers digging into her flesh.
“Sit with me, let’s have a meal together,” Tom insisted. “We haven’t sat together like a family for months now. Not since you snuck off and fucking stole my kids.”
Abbey didn’t respond, she stood next to the table and willed him to eat his pancake and shut his mouth. His gaze caught hers and she didn’t avert her eyes, she stared him down until he focused on his food and said, “Fine, suit yourself. I think that one’s burning, you worthless bitch.”
Abbey jerked around and found smoke pouring from the pan. She muttered and grabbed the pan off the burner, slid the spatula under the blacked mess and tossed it into the sink.
She was starting to let her own anger simmer just under the surface, and if Zach and Sophie weren’t here, she would have challenged Tom to see what happened if she stood up to him.
As it was, she didn’t want him bringing them into anything so she kept her mouth shut, cleaned the pan and poured more mix into it.
She hated him as she stood there making one after another so he could stuff his vile mouth. He ran it off, a constant stream berating her and mocking her as she tried to get Zach and Sophie to eat too.
Neither one of them had much of an appetite, but when Tom insisted, they each took a pancake and picked at it in silence.
Finally Tom’s appetite was satiated and he pushed his plate away. “You’re a good cook,” he said, belching loudly. “Now I remember why I kept your fat ass around all those years. You can see the weight you’ve been putting on, by the way. You carry it in your ass and thighs, all that blubber.”
“Mom looks great,” Zach said in a quiet voice.
“You have to say that, you little pussy,” Tom chortled. “You’re a momma’s boy, out there prancing around the barrels like you don’t have balls.”
“I like barrel racing,” Zach replied, a little louder and his back straighter as he stood up to his dad. “It’s not just for girls, boys do it too.”
“Boys do it too,” Tom mocked him in a feminine voice. “Boys do all kinds of things when they’re pansies, but you’re my son. You should be riding bulls already, for fucks sake.”
“Barrels are fine,” Sophie spoke up, her little voice squeaking in fear. “They’re fun and we like them.”
“Well, well, well,” Tom said, raising his brows and snickering at Sophie. “The little one speaks.”
“Tom, why don’t you head back to town? I’m sure Candy is wondering where you are,” Abbey said, praying he’d forget about them and the gun that was sitting on the table.
“Candy is probably fucking some young buck,” Tom said and looked around. “She’s not loyal like you, Abbey. Now get me something to drink.”
Abbey took a glass out of the cupboard, poured Tom a shot of his favorite, tequila, and handed it to him.
“The bottle too,” he said, motioning to it on the counter behind her.
She had been hoping he would get bored and leave, but it seemed as though he was tucking in to spend a while with them.
Abbey regretted not going to David’s place, she regretted not leaving the horses at the rodeo grounds and heading anywhere but here. She should have known Tom would be waiting.
And wanting a drink.
She handed him the bottle and she glanced at the clock on the wall. It was rounding close to midnight.
“I need to get the kids to bed,” she said, looking at Zach and Sophie who caught on and yawned dramatically. “They’re up way past their bedtime.”
She felt sick to her stomach that he’d already had them for a couple hours at least. Time was dragging slowly with him in her life, like an anchor around her neck, pulling her down, choking her.
“Fine,” Tom said, pouring himself another drink. “Hurry that fat ass up, I’ve got some more talking to do.”
Abbey nodded and kept her eyes down, she took Sophie and Zach’s hands and led them upstairs to their rooms.
Next to Sophie’s bed, she crouched and comforted both of them. She whispered, “I need you guys to be strong for me. I’m going to handle this, but promise me you’ll be tough and stay up here no matter what you hear.”
“Can you make him go away?” Sophie asked, her voice quivering and her lower lip trembling. “I don’t like Daddy anymore, he’s so mean.”
“I hate him,” Zach said with a fierce voice. “If I was bigger I could beat him up and kick him out.”
“Shhhh,” Abbey replied and held them both close to her chest. “Stay here while I go to grandpa’s room and check the phone.”
“Please be safe,” Sophie whispered, “I don’t want him to shoot you.”
“I’ll be fine, I promise.”
Abbey crept down the hall to her dad’s room, found the old house phone on his nightstand and carefully lifted the receiver. She held it to her ear and heard nothing.
Tom must have cut the phone lines, and he’d taken her cell phone first thing so all her communication to the outside world was cut off.
She tip toed back down to Sophie’s room and could hear Tom singing from the kitchen, some old cowboy song about a girl in El Paso, and that always meant one thing.
He was drunk and he was horny, and the thought of being under her husband made Abbey physically nauseous. She felt bile rise in the back of her throat just thinking about it, she had to prevent it from happening any way she could.
“Just jump into bed,” she told the kids, “Don’t worry about pajamas. We might have to leave in a hurry.”
“Can Zach sleep with me?” Sophie asked, tears brightening her eyes.
“If he wants to,” Abbey replied.
“Sure,” Zach said and climbed under the covers with his little sister and started to sing her to sleep with a quiet song.
Abbey could have stood there and watched them all night, but she didn’t want Tom to come looking for her. She leaned down and kissed them both, turned out the light and shut the door before she walked downstairs to face the beast at the kitchen table.
Now she
felt like she could fight. Now she could stand up to him like she should have a hundred times since their wedding day.
“There she is, the chubby little bitch,” Tom laughed and motioned for her to come sit on his lap. “I don’t know if you’ll crush me, but we can give it a try.”
“I have dishes to wash,” Abbey replied woodenly and hoped he’d get bored enough to let his guard down and allowed Abbey to take a chance and escape.
“Suit yourself, be a frigid bitch,” Tom said and poured himself another shot.
She filled the sink and felt sick to her stomach having to turn her back on him. She could watch him in the reflection of the darkened window and his behavior seemed erratic and unpredictable.
Then again, when was it ever predictable with Tom? The only thing she could ever count on was the fact that he would get drunk and cheat on her on a regular basis. Other than that, he lived his life exactly how he wanted and she’d never dared question him.
She finished washing the last plate and set the heavy cast iron frying pan into the sink full of hot, soapy water.
You weren’t supposed to soak cast iron, but she had a plan. She mimicked washing it, pulled it out and watched Tom’s reflection in the window.
She picked up the frying pan from the sink, turned slowly and looked at him.
He was ranting about her, but staring at the table. His eyes were unfocused and his speech was slurred, but she knew he was still dangerous. Tom was the kind of man who could drink and still maintain complete control of his mind and body. He could consume enough alcohol to intoxicate a horse, but he was always ready to fight.
She held the frying pan in her hand and moved around the kitchen towards the stove. It was closer to the table, and she contemplated what she would do with it. Should she flat out hit him on the head, or would hitting his hand be a better option?
She was going through it in her head when there was a knock at the front door.
“Who is that?” Tom barked. “Is that your pussy boyfriend?”
“I don’t know,” Abbey replied and set the frying pan down. “Do you want me to check?”
“No, I’ll get it. You sit here and keep your mouth shut,” Tom said and stood, picking up the gun and waving it towards a chair near his at the table. “Better yet, hang on.”
He grabbed the cord from the electric kettle, yanked it free and jerked her hand behind her back. He tied them together and to the chair, binding her tightly and unable to move.
“I won’t say anything,” Abbey said.
“I know you won’t,” Tom smirked, his face close enough for her to smell his sour breath on her face. He picked up a dish towel from the counter behind him and shoved it into her mouth. “Now you definitely won’t say a damned thing.”
She choked on the damp cloth and waited until Tom left the room before she began to struggle against her bonds. She whimpered and heard Tom open the front door and demand what the hell somebody was doing there at that time of the night.
Abbey’s ears strained to hear the response and her heart fluttered when it was David’s voice.
“Where is she?” David demanded. “What the fuck have you done with her?”
“She’s upstairs,” Tom snickered in a disgusting tone. “She’s been well fucked and needs her rest.”
“Bullshit, where is she?” David snarled. “I know you’ve got her in there.”
“How do you know that?” Tom replied, “She’s still my wife, the minute I came back she couldn’t wait to open her legs for me.”
“You’re a god damned liar,” David replied and said something more in an angry voice that Abbey couldn’t quite hear.
She tried to yell at him, to call out and alert David to her location, but nothing came out. She screamed against the dish cloth but it blocked any sound. She swallowed her terrified wails and listened again.
The men’s voices escalated and soon she could hear a fight break out, the unmistakable wet slapping sound of fists on flesh and her heart ached to know if David was defeating Tom or if Tom was hurting her beloved David.
The sound of a gunshot rang out, piercing Abbey’s ears and making her scream against the dish towel. She prayed that Tom was too drunk to hit anything and David was okay. A dark part of her didn’t care if Tom was hit, he deserved it, although she would hate for the kids to see their Dad like that even if they did hate him at the moment.
She arched her back and strained against the bonds, worked her mouth and managed to dislodge the clothe blocking her breathing and voice.
“David, help!” she screamed, “I’m in here! Help me!” She jerked her hands and shook the chair, but she didn’t get any response from David.
She started to cry, not so much in desperation but more in rage. Rage that she’d let Tom do this to her again and that she hadn’t fought harder. Rage that she’d even married him in the first place, and that she’d given up so much of herself to please him.
“David!” she screamed again, but a voice from behind her froze her heart and sent ice water through her veins.
“He’s long gone, my dear wife,” Tom said, his voice dripping with contempt. “He couldn’t wait to get out of here once he figured out you’re back with me. He never could stand up for himself, and if my shot hit the target, he’s bleeding all the way back to his place.”
Chapter 19
Abbey knew what Tom said was a lie, she felt it in her bones and her belly but there was the small scared part of herself that wondered if Tom was right. Did David really leave on his own? She knew it couldn’t be right, but why had David gone, why wasn’t he here untying her and saving her now?
“Let me go,” Abbey demanded, not wanting to listen to Tom and his lies anymore. “This is ridiculous, you have to let me go!”
“I don’t need to do shit, dear wife,” Tom said with a cruel sneer. He reached down to the waistband of his jeans and pulled out his gun, waved it at her and stared intently. “You’re the one who will listen to me now. You’re the bitch who ran off.”
“Untie me and we can talk,” Abbey said as softly as she could, “I’ve been wrong, let me make it up to you.”
Abbey almost shuddered in disgust at the words she was saying, but she needed to convince Tom to let her go, to free her hands so she could have another chance to escape.
She hated how quickly she’d given in, let him tie her up or even just make him pancakes. She inwardly cringed at how fast she’d rolled over and vowed to fight him now, especially since the kids were in bed.
If it hadn’t been for the kids, Abbey liked to think she would have fought harder. Not just now, but all those years with him.
But there was no point in lamenting the past, no matter how recently it had occurred, so she focused her intentions on the future. The immediate future, and looked up at Tom with her big, sad eyes, the one thing she knew would get to him.
“I realize how wrong I was, baby,” she said and let her lower lip quiver. “When I heard you standing up for me, it reminded me how much we love each other.”
“I’m not stupid, Abbey,” Tom sneered and flopped into a chair at the table next to her. “I know you were calling for Lizzie, I heard you clear as day.”
Abbey’s blood went ice cold and she felt like time stopped. She could feel the beating of her heart in her ears and her mouth went dry. She tried to speak, but nothing came out. Tom’s intense gaze locked her in place, leaving her feeling like a bug on a pin.
“I forgive you though, you were confused,” he said, leaning towards her with his hands together and his fingers laced as if he were her father scolding her. “If I untie you, you have to promise me not to run. I will admit I like you looking like this, trussed up, defenseless.”
Abbey trembled at his words, but thrust out her chin, looked at him and said, “Let me go, Tom, and I’ll do anything you want.”
He placed his hands on her knee, smirked and said, “That’s my girl.”
He stood suddenly, walked around behind her and w
ith a quick jerk of the cord, he released her wrists. She pulled them in front of her, rubbed her wrists, swung around and struck out at Tom to her sudden surprise.
Tom stepped back and laughed, holding his jaw. “Damn, where did you learn that?”
Abbey didn’t reply, she jumped to her feet and kicked his knee, leaving him bent over in surprise. “Let me go,” she yelled, “Get out of the house, god dammit!”
She took his startled reaction as a chance to leap past him, she almost made it to the doorway when his hand snapped out and grabbed her by the wrist.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Tom snarled, “you’re mine. The kids are mine. You’re my family and I’ll never fucking let you go.”
Abbey pulled and wiggled herself free of his grasp, spun and ran towards the living room. Her intent was to get the phone there and desperately call 911, hoping against the odds that David was home and got her desperate cry for help.
“Get back here,” Tom bellowed, “stop running, you stupid bitch!”
Abbey leapt for the phone but she caught her leg on the edge of the old wooden coffee table and sharp pain shot through her calf. The jolt was enough to knock Abbey to her knees and she ended up on the floor on her back looking up at Tom’s red, angry face.
“You’ve done it now,” Tom roared, “look what you’ve done, Abbey, look what you’re making me do!”
Tom’s hands came down and clamped on Abbey’s throat, he tightened them and squeezed.
Abbey choked and tried to beg him to stop, but the noise wouldn’t leave her throat. Tom’s hands were too strong and nothing could pass, not even breath.
Abbey’s vision clouded and bright sparks of light burst around the edges. She gasped but couldn’t get any air into her lungs, his grip got stronger and Abbey thought she might lose consciousness.
She pushed at Tom’s hands, clawed his arms and fought as hard as she could, but Tom was relentless in his rage.
Abbey’s eyes slipped shut and she finally did begin to slip into the darkness there. Her body went limp and she lost the ability to fight and the will to struggle for life.
The Way Down Page 13