I grab a hold of her shoulders gently. “I’m going to sign you out; run and grab your backpack and anything else you need, okay?” I say in a hushed voice. I rush back into the secretary’s office and use my ID to prove that I’m her sister. I’m able to sign her out for a doctor’s appointment. I’ll let Ma deal with any further questions. I step out of the office and see Marie running back toward me. Her blue eyes are shining, but she looks nervous. She links her arm with mine, and we run back to the taxi.
I check the clock in the front of the car—it’s 10:15. Carl will be calling the house at noon on his lunch hour. When I don’t answer, I know he’ll come home searching for me, which means we don’t have much longer now. I grab Marie’s hand and squeeze it tightly. She stays silent the entire ride to the airport.
I pay the taxi driver for his time and give him an extra ten in exchange for his silence. He nods, and looks as though he wants to say something, but I close the door before he’s able to. He takes the hint and leaves without a word. I check my watch to see that we have a little over an hour left before Carl will start his frantic search for us. I grab Marie’s hand and my suitcase, and we make our way toward the front of the line.
Deep breaths, Brynn.
“Are there any flights that depart in the next half an hour?” I ask the receptionist a little shakily.
“Where to, ma’am?” she chirps, flipping her long brown hair behind her shoulder. She stares at me expectantly, and I try my best not to look suspicious. I should have thought this through more. I give her the speech I practiced in my head last night and hope that it’s enough.
“It’s my little sister’s birthday soon, and every year we just up and visit a new state, spur of the moment kind of thing. Whichever flight is leaving next is fine. The farther away, the better, since we have visited most of the nearby states already,” I say, lacking confidence. This seems to appease her, however, and she starts typing away at her computer.
“Well, let’s see here, if you can be quick through security, you can just make the flights to Arizona, Texas, and Ohio,” she offers. I try to think back to my high school geography class and remember which is the farthest away.
Marie must sense my confusion because I hear her reply, “Ohio! Let’s go there, sissie. That’s where I was hoping for last year, when we ended up going to Alabama instead,” she says, plastering on a huge fake smile. I have to stifle a nervous laugh. God, I missed Marie. I turn back to the agent.
“Ohio it is; two tickets, please, and just the one suitcase.”
I purchase our tickets and we rush through security in record time. Fortunately, Marie kept her ID in her backpack with her which allowed everything to run smoothly. I have so much I want to ask her, but I know now isn’t the right time. We board the plane just in time and make our way to the back where we find our seats. We sit down, and Marie grabs my hand and leans her head on my shoulder. It feels good to have her here, safe, with me. I scan the plane, certain I’m going to find Carl—that he’s going to come barging on and drag me back to his house—but he never does. The flight attendant runs through the safety information, and Marie and I listen intently. I’ve never flown, and I doubt she has either. The plane readies itself on the runway, and we take off. I can feel the pressure building, and my ears pop uncomfortably.
Once we’re safely up in the air, I start to relax. I did it. We did it. How could it have been so easy, though; I feel as though I’m missing something, that he’ll be waiting in Ohio for us to arrive. What if he calls the airline and finds out where I’ve flown into?
Brynn, how could you have been so stupid? Think, think, think.
“Marie, I think we need to go a little farther than Ohio; that’s still pretty close to Oregon,” I say nervously. She looks up at me curiously, so I explain further. “Carl could call the airline and find out where we’ve flown into. I think we should get a bus in Ohio and go a little farther. Maybe even a state or two over. Is there anywhere you can think of that you’d like to go?” I ask.
It’s not exactly fair that I just completely uprooted her life without warning. I feel as though I should at least give this choice to her. I can tell she’s thinking; her blue eyes are looking up, as if she’s searching the top of her head for information. It’s pretty funny to watch, but I manage not to laugh. I patiently wait for her to come up with a plan.
“What about New York?” she asks.
I process what I know about New York, but it’s not much. There are a lot of people there; it’s busy, and we could easily get lost in a crowd. That sounds perfect actually. How did she get so smart?
“New York sounds wonderful, Marie. How did I ever get so lucky to have such a clever little sister?” I ask. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you. There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think about you,” I say, thinking back to how many days she got me through. There was always the hope of seeing Marie, and that kept me fueled.
“You’re going to have to call Ma on a stopover somewhere. I know she doesn’t have caller ID, but if Carl manages to get a hold of her phone records, I don’t want it to be from ...” I start but she cuts me off.
“Brynn, I have something I need to tell you,” she whispers sadly. I wait until she gathers her thoughts and keeps going.
“I don’t know how to tell you this, but Ma’s in the hospital, Brynn. She’s not doing so well. Her liver is failing, and she has pancreatitis. She’s not very alert because the doctors keep her sedated most of the time; something about her erratic behavior, pulling out her IVs, that sort of thing. You know how she gets when she isn’t drinking. She’s absolutely miserable. She’s on the transplant list, but because of her history with alcohol, it’s not looking good. If she would agree to stay sober, and work toward recovery, she could get bumped up the list, but you know she won’t do that,” Marie says gravely.
She has tears in her eyes, and I know that this is breaking her heart. We grew up resenting the woman, hating her because she would choose alcohol over our next meal. She never read us a bedtime story, or fixed us a meal. She never did anything a real mother should do for her children. Even still, she’s our ma and living with her over the years, knowing she brought us into this world, it’s hard not to love her, too, at least on some level.
I take Marie’s face into my hands and look her in the eyes. “It’s not your fault, Marie. She did this to herself. She’s been this way her entire life, and she is well aware of the consequences. She’s just never particularly cared about them, or anything for that matter. We’ll call the hospital and get updates okay? They legally have to keep our conversations private, so hopefully we can call her often. Maybe we can visit her someday too, yeah?” I say, knowing full well there isn’t much chance of that. I know I’ll never be able to go back to Oregon, but I can’t break her heart just yet. I need her to trust me so I can make sure she is safe, first and foremost.
“Brynn?” Marie asks. I squeeze her hand.
“Yeah, love?”
“What happened to you? I don’t remember much. I recall meeting Carl, and I remember you crying when he left, but then you were just gone. I knew it was you who was sending the food, though. Only you knew how much I loved Lucky Charms,” she says humorlessly. “Ma said it was the food bank, but I knew,” she adds, casting her eyes to the floor.
I know she’s nervous about my answer. She’s scared that I left because I didn’t love her enough or care enough. Yet, she came with me, across the country, without a word anyway. Either she still loves me, or her life was worse than I thought. I’m hoping it’s the former.
“I’m not even sure where to start, Marie,” I answer honestly, “I’m not sure how much you remember—you were pretty young.” I say, reaching over and taking her hand in mine. “Carl came back a few weeks after he broke it off with me. He promised me that if I married him, you would be taken care of. I could send you groceries every week, and pay your electricity bill. Do you remember how cold and hungry we used to be bec
ause Ma would never pay the bills, or have money to buy groceries? God, Marie, you were so thin, I was so worried about you.
I didn’t want you to have to cry yourself to sleep anymore because you had hunger pains, or sleep under four blankets just so you didn’t freeze to death. You deserved better than that. When he asked me to marry him, he said I couldn’t keep in contact with you or anyone else for that matter. Marie, I left because I loved you so much. I left because I cared about you. I left because I wanted to give you a better life than the one I had,” I promise her, tears streaming down both of our faces.
“I’m so sorry, Marie. I wish I could have given you everything you deserved. I wondered every single day if I made the right choice, but seeing you here, healthy and alive, makes it all worth it. We can get past the rest, the emotional part of it, but I can’t imagine what would have happened otherwise,” I say. She looks away quickly before wiping her tears and leans over, laying her head on my chest. I stroke her hair just like I always did.
“Thank you,” she says softly, and with those two words, my mind slows, my heart warms, and I allow myself to relax a little for the first time in five years.
The rest of the flight passes slowly. We have several stopovers along the way. We fade in and out of sleep, eating disgusting airline food, and just being grateful we’re together. We disembark the plane through the night, and I find the bus terminal at the airport. I book our tickets for New York nervously and I’m thankful she doesn’t ask for ID when I give her two false names. While we’re waiting for the bus to depart, we grab a midnight lunch and eat ice cream for dessert. I purchase some snacks and water for the bus ride, and I take what little food I have out of my suitcase and pack it into my purse. It’s going to be another long ride, but it’s nothing in relation to the rest of our lives.
Chapter 4
Marie and I arrive in New York City late the following night. We talked a lot about what we have to do once we arrive, and I think we’ve come up with a pretty good plan. I’m not looking forward to it, but I know it’s the best way to keep Marie safe and that’s what matters most.
We take a taxi to a lousy hotel across from Penn Station. The driver tells us it’s not the Ritz, but it’s a cheap place to rest our heads for the night. It’s safer than where we were sleeping last week, so it’s an improvement we’ll gladly accept. We check in under Gladys Freebolt, the name of the elderly cat lady three trailers down in our trailer park growing up. Marie giggles as I give the receptionist her name. It feels great to put that smile on her face.
We receive a seedy room with two creaky double beds. The walls are a deep burgundy color, the blanket is a quilted red satin and the floors are shag carpeting. It’s absolutely hideous, but at the very least, it appears to be clean.
I wait until Marie falls asleep before removing my makeup and jumping in the shower. There’s no sense in scaring her, and I’m not sure how much I want her to know about my life with Carl just yet. I don’t want her to think any of this is her fault, and knowing Marie, that’s exactly how she would feel. By the time I climb into bed, I’m completely exhausted—mentally and physically.
Marie asks if she can climb into my bed sometime during the night, and I invite her in. She drags her sheet over and wraps it around herself before cuddling into me.
My internal alarm clock sounds at 6:15. I wake panicking, until I hear Marie’s soft breathing behind me. I realize that I’m safe, the past few days haven’t been a dream, and I allow myself to relax. We’re safe.
I roll out of bed, thankful that my ribs are in a lot better shape than they were a few days ago. I use the bathroom and take a shower before chancing a quick glance in the mirror. My face is a lovely mixture of greens and yellows today, but my lip is looking much better. The swelling has gone down considerably and there’s only a little cut and some yellowing on the corner of my lip that should be relatively easy to conceal. I walk into the room to grab my makeup bag, but Marie is sitting up on the bed, a horrified look spreading across her face.
“Marie, love, what’s the matter?” I ask, panic setting in. I wonder if someone was at the door, or she saw someone through the window—but no, she’s staring directly at me.
“Brynn, what did he do to you?” Marie asks, horrified.
Well shit. I quickly turn away from her, but she’s already seen the damage. I’m ashamed of myself for putting her in this situation.
“It’s nothing, Marie; we’re safe now, and that’s all that matters. I will never, ever let him hurt you, I promise. You don’t need to be afraid of him. Remember our plan? We’re going to make sure he can’t find us. We’re going to get help,” I say, practically begging her now, but I don’t care. I want her to feel safe. I don’t want her to ever have to worry about things that are beyond her control.
“I know, Brynn. I saw the marks before, but they didn’t look as bad. I could barely even tell they were there. There’s no denying it now, though. I’m not scared of him. I just wish you didn’t have to be either,” she says in a whisper.
She has so much love and concern in her eyes that I feel my heart begin to break. I walk over to the bed and wrap her in the biggest hug I can. We sit for a moment just breathing each other in.
“We should get going, love. We’ll grab some breakfast after we check out. I saw a little coffee shop a few buildings down. Why don’t you hop in the shower, and I’ll pack up,” I offer. She gives me a weak smile, and then jumps out of bed and makes her way to the bathroom.
“Today is going to be a good day, Brynn, I can feel it,” she says, giving me a little wink before closing the bathroom door. If there’s one word to describe Marie, it’s resilient. I smile in spite of the millions of worries and bad thoughts running through my mind. I push them all aside and repeat her mantra: Today is going to be a good day.
I finish packing the few belongings I’ve brought with me before using the mirror behind the desk to apply my makeup and curl my hair. Carl always hated my hair curled, and it feels good to stick it to him in a small way, even though he’ll hopefully never be close enough to know.
Marie emerges from the bathroom, wearing a light blue T-shirt and stretchy black pants of mine that she fortunately fits into. I’m sure they’re not her style, but hey, they’re not mine either. They’re going to have to do until we go shopping, though.
We walk to the coffee shop, rolling the suitcase behind us. It’s a busy little shop with a line right to the back of the store. I spot a table in the back that just freed up, so Marie gives me her order and offers to take a seat. I glance up at the menu where there are at least a hundred different drinks, as well as a large selection of baked goods. There’s still about ten people ahead of me, but the line is moving fairly quickly—kind of like everything in this city, I guess. I look the menu over a dozen times trying to decide what to order.
“First timer, huh? You have to try their chocolate peppermint latte and their almond croissant. I swear it will change your life,” I hear in a sexy drawl behind me.
I turn around, nervously. My first thought is that this guy has to be at least six foot four. It’s not his height that gives me butterflies, though. He’s looking at me with this sexy smirk and emerald green eyes, and honest to goodness, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life. His hair looks like he’s just rolled out of bed, and he’s got stubble running along his strong jawline. He’s wearing a tight blue t-shirt and grey sweatpants, and I can see the outline of his muscles bulging from underneath. There aren’t many men I can honestly say I’ve been attracted to, but there’s no denying this.
Carl caught me looking at a man once, a few weeks after we were married. He beat me to a pulp when we got home, and I learned not to look at anyone after that. I kept my eyes cast downward in public, and if I’m being honest, most of the time I spent in his house, as well. I tell myself that that’s why I let my eyes linger a little longer than I probably should on the guy standing behind me. I’m just appreciating the male species like
any other female on Earth would.
Shit, he said something, didn’t he? I try and remember what, but I’ve got nothing. I look back to his face and notice his smirk has now turned into a full-on grin, revealing a perfect set of straight white teeth. Now he’s just showing off.
Without a word, I turn back around just in time to notice I’m next in line. Great, I haven’t even looked at the rest of the menu. I order Marie’s tea and bagel, and what the hell, I order a chocolate peppermint latte and an almond croissant, too. I’m more desperate to put space between us than I am to let him think he’s won. I hear a deep throaty chuckle from behind me as I place my order.
Brynn, what are you doing letting a man boss you around again? I thought we just ran away from this. Even as I tell myself that, I can’t help but feel that this is somehow different. I grab my order without looking back at Blaze and find Marie sitting at our table.
“What was that all about?” she asks, curiously. I can’t help but find myself blushing.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just got us breakfast. Now eat, missy. I put cream cheese on it, too; you need the calories,” I order her jokingly. She sticks her tongue out at me, and I smile.
I feel him behind me this time, before I even see him. That kind of heat is hard to miss. He slides a stack of napkins onto the table, grazing my arm. My whole body shivers at the contact.
“The croissant’s a little messy, but it’s worth it, I promise,” he says huskily and then has the gall to wink at me. He turns and leaves the store with a tray of drinks and a bag in hand.
What the hell was that! Seriously! Why can’t I speak around him?
I look down at the napkins and notice he’s left a telephone number on the top one, but no name. Who picks up women at a coffee shop? The kind who has a new one every night, I guess. I look over at Marie, who has the biggest smirk on her face ever.
Hell, Fire & Freedom (Fighting for Freedom) Page 3