by Kelly, Amber
“I have a walk-in closet. He likes to play in it,” I tell him.
I have to get Beau up there, safely tucked into that closet. I can see the moment Travis relents.
“Fine. He can go while we gather your shit.”
I set Beau on his feet, and he wraps his arms around my legs.
I bend down to look him in the eye. “It’s okay. I want you to go to the Batcave and wait for me. Can you do that? Close the door and don’t come out until I come and get you,” I calmly say to him.
“I don’t want to leave you,” he whines, and his little fist wipes at his nose as tears stream under his glasses and down his red cheeks.
“I’ll be okay. I promise. I need you to be a big boy and obey me right now though,” I say a little more sternly.
He purses his quivering lips and tries to pull himself together.
“Okay, Mommy,” he says, and he puts his arms around my neck and squeezes tightly before letting go and running toward the stairs.
I watch him go, and once he is out of sight and I hear the door close behind him, I turn to face Travis.
Dallas
“Come on,” Travis commands as he grabs my arm and jerks me toward Beau’s bedroom door. “Grab some of his stuff.”
I dig my heels into the floor and try to yank my arm from his grasp.
“Fucking do what I ask, Dallas,” he says, frustrated. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
It’s a threat, and I know it.
“You’ve never hurt me before. This isn’t you. Can’t we just talk about this?” I try to reason with him.
“You’re right; this ain’t who I used to be. Prison changes a man.”
He advances on me and gets me backed into the wall between Beau’s bedroom and the stairs.
“You left me there to rot. You ungrateful bitch. Everything I did, I did for you. So you could have everything you ever wanted. And how did you repay me? By abandoning me,” he spits angrily.
I have to stay calm. I keep telling myself to be smart and not panic.
“I was perfectly happy with our life, Travis. You didn’t do it for me. You did it for you. You were the one who wasn’t content and wanted to live a lifestyle we couldn’t afford.”
He sneers at me and grabs my chin. “I always did like that smart mouth of yours. Makes me hard, having you talk back to me again,” he says as he rubs his erection against me to prove his words.
He tries to kiss me, and I turn my head. He pries my face back to him and presses his lips to mine. I keep my mouth tightly closed, and he takes two fingers and clamps them down on my throat.
I can’t swallow. When I open my mouth to tell him to let go, he slides his tongue inside and starts to kiss me. He releases my throat, and I bite down hard on his tongue.
He jumps back and then backhands me powerfully across my right cheek. My head bounces against the wall.
“My tongue is bleeding, you stupid—” he starts when we hear a phone ringing upstairs.
My eyes dart to the steps, and I start to run.
“Oh no, you don’t,” he says as he grabs me and slings me back into the wall.
The phone stops ringing.
He brings the jagged end of the bottle up to my throat. “I’m giving you one last chance to pack a bag for you and the boy, or we’re getting in the truck and leaving with nothing. The choice is yours.”
I nod because I can’t speak, and I feel the glass pierce my neck.
My phone starts to ring again.
It distracts him, and I take the opportunity to bring my knee up and crash it between his legs. He immediately drops the bottle, and it shatters further as his hands fly to his crotch.
I take off in the direction of the door to grab the lamp sitting on the table beside it. I need something to strike him with.
My feet hit the living room floor, and I slip through the beer and glass and land on my ass just short of the door. Travis recovers and grabs me by my hair before I can get back on my feet. He drags me back toward the stairs.
My hands fly to my hair. It feels like he’s ripping it out from the roots. I hold in the scream caught in my throat. I can’t make a peep. It will terrify Beau if he hears me cry out. Tears blur my vision.
“Time’s up. We’re getting the boy and leaving,” he says as he tries to pull me up the stairs.
I grab the railing on both sides and throw all my weight in sitting on my ass. He keeps yanking at my hair, but my body isn’t budging. He gets pissed and kicks me in the back, and I plant face-first onto the floor. I feel the blood ooze from my nose as I flip to my back and start to crab-walk backward.
He picks me up by my waist with my arms and feet flailing. He’ll have to kill me to get up those stairs to Beau. He slams me back against the wall, and his forearm presses into my throat.
I struggle to pry his arm off, but it’s no use. He’s so much stronger than me. My vision starts to blur, and I know that I’m moments from passing out. I can’t. I have to stay conscious.
“That’s right, baby; stop fighting it. You’re going to take a little nap, and when you wake up, we’ll be home,” he says.
I try to pick up my leg to kick his shin, but my whole body feels heavy.
Everything is starting to go black.
Myer
I just finish the evening perimeter ride when I see Payne’s truck coming up the driveway. I dismount and walk Bolt over to him. Walker is in the passenger seat.
“Hey, man. We’re heading over to Braxton’s place. They got the floors in, and he wants to start painting this evening,” he says as I approach his window.
“Sounds good. I need to put Bolt away, and I’ll be ready. You want me to meet you there?” I ask as my phone chirps in my pocket, and I fish it out.
“Nah, we’ll wait for you,” he says and throws his truck in park.
I look down at the text I just received from Dallas’s phone. It’s a bunch of Hs in a long row. I’m confused for a half a second, and then it hits me.
The Bat-Signal.
My eyes snap up to Payne. “Where’re Dallas and Beau?”
He looks confused at my sudden alarm.
“At the house, I guess. They were eating supper when I talked to her. I was going to go over and water for Momma before Brax called. She said she and Beau would do it before she gave him a bath. Why?”
I dial her number and bring the phone to my ear. It rings until her voice mail picks up.
Shit.
“Something’s wrong,” I tell him.
I walk over and jump up onto Bolt’s back. Dallas’s family’s orchard backs up to the ranch behind my house. I can get there faster on horseback than in a truck.
I look over, and Payne has his phone to his ear.
“She ain’t answering. What the hell’s going on?” he asks, panicked.
“I don’t know, but I got a distress text from Beau from her phone ten seconds ago. I’m heading that way. Call the sheriff and meet me there,” I say before I take Bolt’s reins and turn him toward the hills and take off.
I run the horse as fast as his legs can take us. The route is tricky, full of thicket and steep hills. But he stays with me and flies through the brush like lightning.
I pass Payne’s house, and Dallas’s comes into sight. Her truck is out front. My racing heart starts to settle. Maybe the text was a mistake. I slow down and bring Bolt around to the front of the house. I dismount and leave him in the drive as I hop up onto the porch. I hear yelling inside. I try the door, and it’s locked, so I move over to the window and look in. Some guy has Dallas pinned to the wall, and she’s struggling.
I jump from the porch and run to the back door to see if it’s locked. The window beside the door is smashed in. I grab the two-by-four that is propped against the house—it’s probably what was used to break the glass—and I reach inside, twist the lock, and open the door.
Then, I explode into the living room.
Dallas’s pleading eyes dart up to mine. Her face is turning blue, his arm
against her throat blocking her airway. She has her fingers wrapped around it, trying to pry it free.
He sees her eyes and jerks around. Dallas slides to the floor, gasping for air, and I start swinging.
The sound of the board cracking against his jaw rings around the room. He stumbles forward, bringing his fists up in defense, and I swing again. This time, blood splatters across the room as I hit his face square on, and his nose shatters. Before he can take another step, his eyes roll back in his head, and he drops to the floor like a ton of bricks.
I hear Payne banging at the door and walk over to click the lock. He bolts inside with Walker on his heels. He looks at Dallas and then the man sprawled on the floor.
“Jesus, sis, are you okay?” he chokes out.
She’s still on the floor, her back against the wall and her knees to her chest. Her eyes are trained on her attacker, and she’s shaking.
I kneel in front of her. “Dal, baby, are you okay? Is anything hurt?”
Her eyes come up to me, and she shakes her head. “I’m okay,” she manages to get out.
“Where’s Beau?” I ask.
“Upstairs in my closet. I don’t want him to see me like this,” she says as she wipes under her eyes. She takes the hem of her shirt and starts scrubbing at the blood running down her chin.
“I’ll go get him,” I say. I look over at Payne. “Did you call the sheriff?”
“Yeah, he’s on his way,” he says.
“Can you come help Dallas get to the bathroom and cleaned up? Walker, can you handle him? I don’t think he’s gonna wake up anytime soon, but pull him out onto the porch, so he’s not lying there. I’m going up to get Beau,” I order as I help her to her feet.
She throws herself into my arms, wraps herself around me, and starts sobbing uncontrollably.
“It’s okay. I got you,” I say softly.
“Who the fuck is this son of a bitch?” Walker asks as he grabs the guy’s arm and starts dragging him.
“Travis. It’s Travis,” her muffled answer comes. Her face is planted against my shirt.
“Travis?” Payne says as he charges toward him.
Walker rolls him over, and sure enough, it’s him. Payne puts his boot in his side, and we hear ribs crack. Then, for good measure, he does it again. Travis grunts in pain.
Good thing he’s not dead. Not that I’d care if he were.
Walker drags him out the door. Payne comes over, and I turn her into his arms. He steadies her and looks over her shoulder at me.
“I got her. Go get Beau,” he says, and I dart to the stairs.
I knock at the door. I can hear soft whimpers on the other side, but he doesn’t answer, so I crack the door and open it.
“No!” he cries.
He scurries toward the back of the closet on his hands and knees. He has been sitting in the dark, and he blinks rapidly to adjust to the light pouring into the closet when he stops against the wall.
“Beau, it’s me, buddy, Myer,” I say.
He stays where he is.
I bend to one knee and look him in the eye. “Hey, are you okay?”
He sniffles and nods.
“You want to come out now?” I ask softly.
“Mommy said not to come out until she comes to get me,” he stutters, as he rocks.
“It’s okay. She told me to come find you for her, I promise,” I say calmly as I scoot toward him.
“Where is she? Why didn’t she come get me? Is she okay?”
His watery eyes look up at me pleadingly. He thinks she’s hurt, and that’s why I came instead of her.
“She’s okay, buddy, I promise. She’s downstairs with Uncle Payne.”
“Is the bad guy gone?” he asks.
“He is. Walker and Uncle Payne came with me to help, and Walker has him outside, waiting for the police to come and get him,” I assure him.
His lips quiver as he sits there. I want to reach out and scoop him up, but I wait for him to come to me.
After a few more minutes, he leaps to me. I catch him with one arm and hold him tight as he sobs uncontrollably into my neck. His entire body convulsing.
“It’s okay, buddy. I’ve got you,” I console as I stand.
“You came,” he says through his tears.
“I told you I would. I’m so proud of you for sending me the signal. You did a good job, protecting Mommy by sending for help,” I tell him as we walk to the stairs.
I can see the lights of the sheriffs’ cars through the window. They will want to talk to the both of them. So, I carry Beau down. Dallas and Payne emerge from the bathroom just as we reach the bottom, and as soon as he catches sight of her, he starts calling for her.
Dallas hurries over and takes him from my arms. “Hey now, it’s all right. Everything is all right.” She soothes as she rocks him.
Everything is not all right. I can see the marks on her neck and the place that’s turning purple underneath her eye that she tried to hide with makeup. A blood vessel has burst in her right eye, and I’m pretty sure she’ll be covered in bruises tomorrow, but she is whole and breathing and here.
Thank you, Lord.
Dallas
I walk out onto the porch and catch Travis’s eye just as they shove him, cuffed, into the back of the squad car.
Beau is in my arms. He refuses to let go of me.
Jonathon Trodden, a sheriff’s deputy that I’ve known since high school, stands before me with a tablet in his hand. “Dallas, I hate to do this now, but I need to get a detailed statement from you.”
I watch as the car pulls away with Travis.
I finally breathe a relieved breath.
“Can it wait until tomorrow?” I ask.
I don’t want to recount what just happened with Beau in my arms.
He apologetically shakes his head. “We really need to do it now,” he says.
I turn to Payne and nod down at Beau. “Can you?”
He steps forward and wraps his hands around Beau’s waist.
“No!” Beau yells and starts to cling harder to me.
“Hey,” I say soothingly, “calm down. Uncle Payne is going to hold you while I talk to the nice policeman.”
He is hiccuping in my neck.
“Please, baby. Mommy has to talk to him right now. I promise I’m not going off the porch, and Myer and Walker are going to be right here with me the whole time.”
He picks his head up and looks around at all the men he knows and trusts. He sniffles and nods his head in agreement, and Payne lifts him from my arms.
I gesture toward the door, and Payne takes the cue and walks him inside, closing it behind them.
I sit down in the chair beside the door, and Walker hands me a glass of water he must have brought out from the kitchen. I take it in my hand, and it shakes water onto the porch.
“I know this is hard, Dallas, but I need you to start from the beginning,” Jonathon prompts.
I start from the time Beau and I walked in to find Travis on the couch and end with when Myer came through the back door.
Fury builds and rolls off Myer and Walker with every word.
Jonathon looks like he would like a few rounds in the cell with Travis himself.
“We’ve had reports of a man who fits his description loitering around town. No one recognized him though,” he informs us.
“I think he might have been coming in the diner too. Kim said a man had been coming in, asking after me and my schedule, and he definitely has been at the schoolhouse. He talked to Beau on the playground,” I tell him.
“How did you three know what was happening?” he asks Myer.
“I got a text from Beau,” he says.
“What?” I ask him.
He pulls his phone from his pocket and holds it up.
The screen shows a text from me, which is just a bunch of Hs in a row.
I look at him, confused.
“It’s our Bat-Signal,” he says and then proceeds to explain the conversation he and
Beau had weeks ago. “I knew they were in trouble. So, I jumped on my horse and got here as fast as I could. The boys followed in the truck.”
“And you incapacitated the suspect with that piece of wood?” Jonathon points down to the two-by-four propped against the house.
“Yeah. I found it sitting by the broken window by the back door. He must have used it to smash his way into the house.” He looks over to me. “He was probably the one who came in the window a couple weeks ago too.”
Shit. How long has he been tracking us?
“I’m going to take this,” Jonathon says as he picks the two-by-four up with his gloved hand. “Dallas, are you sure you don’t need me to take you to the hospital to get checked out?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I’m fine. A few cuts and bruises, that’s all,” I assure him.
“That eye is starting to swell. You’re probably going to be in a lot of pain tomorrow. If nothing else, the doctor can give you something to ease that.”
“No,” I refuse. “I don’t want to take painkillers while taking care of Beau.”
“All right.”
“I promise, if she starts hurting too bad or has any other issues, I’ll take her straight to county,” Myer tells him.
He nods. “I’m going to write in the report that Beau was too traumatized to give a statement. I think we have all we need to press charges. We’ll charge him with breaking and entering, felony false imprisonment, attempted kidnapping, felony assault and battery, and felony domestic assault. His parole will be revoked immediately, and he’ll be incarcerated while he awaits conviction on these charges.”
He pauses and looks up at me and smiles. “You know what all of this means, right?”
I start to cry and nod. “It means I can finally have his parental rights revoked.”
Jonathon tears up too. He was there every time I filed another motion, asking for termination of parental rights. He knows how hard I’ve fought the past six years. The drug charges weren’t enough but a felony domestic charge is.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be happy to contact your attorney myself as soon as I get back to the station and get that ball rolling for you,” he offers.