by Jodi Vaughn
“You can’t leave!” he screamed behind me, but I didn’t stop. I knew if I stopped running, he’d capture me, and I would never leave that house in one piece.
I had to escape, or die trying.
I grabbed the doorknob, and my heart nearly seized in my chest. I expected it to be locked. Miraculously, it wasn’t. I flung open the door. The cold wind slapped me in the face, but I didn’t care. My body was running on adrenaline and fear.
I ran out into the snow-covered yard with nothing but my big red bow and the quilt to shield me from the elements.
I heard him growl behind me, but I didn’t stop. Barefoot, I managed to put some distance between my kidnapper and myself. I had even left my Jimmy Choo’s behind. They weren’t worth my life.
My lungs sucked in icy air. I worked out religiously, so running was part of my everyday routine. I wasn’t a fast runner by any means, but I knew that I was topping my best time tonight for sure. I suppose when you have a delusional kidnapper/killer/possible cannibal on your heels, you get motivated in a whole different way.
I ran out into the empty street. It was late, and there wasn’t any traffic. I wasn’t sure where I was, or which way to go, so I headed in the direction where the streetlights and restaurant signs lit up the night sky.
I continued running down the middle of the frozen street, hoping I could flag down a cop car.
The snow was still falling, and the flakes stuck to my long lashes. I blinked them away and tried to ignore the cold seeping into my bones and freezing my bare feet.
I turned into the parking lot of a well-lit convenience store. There were bars on the windows and the front door. Normally, I stayed away from places like this. Hell, I usually stayed on my side of the tracks.
Whatever was inside this store couldn’t be any more dangerous than what I’d just escaped.
I flung open the door and ran inside. “Please, help me.” I threw myself on the counter in front of the wide-eyed cashier. The quilt fell from my shoulders and puddled on the floor. The dark-skinned man backed away from me and reached under the counter.
“Please, you’ve got to help me. Someone kidnapped me and…”
“Kidnapped you?” He squinted his dark eyes. “Aren’t you too old to be kidnapped?” His gaze skimmed down my body. The quilt slipped revealing the ridiculous red bow. His gaze moved back up to my face where his eyes narrowed.
I pulled the quilt tighter around me.
“Abducted, then. He abducted me and took me to his house.” I looked around the store, but it was empty. I caught my reflection in the glass door of the cooler and almost gasped. My makeup had run down my face. There was a smear of blood across my neck from where I had, at least according to my kidnapper, almost been decapitated.
I looked like a deranged hooker.
I squatted, trying to keep my lady parts covered as I picked up the quilt. I wrapped the blanket around me like a protective shield and looked back at the clerk.
Suddenly, I wasn’t sure if I felt safer here.
I took a step away from the clerk. The cashier kept his eyes on me and one hand under the counter.
I had an uneasy feeling that I had sprinted out of the pot and into the frying pan.
The door swung open, and two large men walked in. When they saw me, they stopped in their tracks.
My gut churned, and I wrapped my arms around myself.
“Hey, baby, are you lost?” One guy smiled, revealing a gold tooth. He was wearing a hoodie and low riding jeans. His friend was dressed in the same manner.
The other male cocked his head and eyed me suspiciously.
I hoped I looked like an undercover cop, or maybe even a high-class drug dealer. Instead, I knew I looked like a mentally insane prostitute.
“She says she’s been kidnapped,” the cashier spoke up.
I looked over my shoulder and noticed that his hand was still under the counter. The back of my neck tingled.
“Is that so?” The guy with the gold tooth smiled wider. Shivers raced up my spine.
I looked around. If I had to fight, I needed something to use as a weapon. I knew my limitations. Going to spin class and running didn’t make me a lethal weapon.
“I’m just trying to get back home. Back to my children. I’m not looking for trouble.” My voice hitched on the last word, and I took a step back.
“Well, you came to the wrong neighborhood, sweet thing.” Gold-tooth guy took a step forward. “Trouble is all we got here.”
My body tensed, and my throat ached.
“Don’t come near me,” I hissed and fisted my hands at my sides. I wasn’t going down without a fight.
The thug reached out, and I jumped. He snagged a bag of chips off the rack beside me as his eyes raked over me.
“Easy, lady.” His smile was gone. “Don’t flatter yourself. I ain’t that hard-up.” He tossed some dollar bills on the counter before taking his leave and heading out the door. His large cohort stayed a second or two longer, staring me down with hard eyes. Without a word, he opened the door and followed his friend out into the night.
I looked back at the cashier, who now had his cell phone up to his ear.
I knew then that this had been a bad idea.
Chapter 6
I should have been happy that the cashier was finally calling the police. Assuming he was. I should have felt relief.
My mind raced with thoughts of what my neighbors would say when they found out I’d been kidnapped. They would likely all assume the worst, and I doubted I could persuade them otherwise. Worse, I worried about how people would treat my children when they found out what had happened.
And what about my husband?
Fear, terror, and pain seized my chest and crawled into my throat.
I blinked as images of my husband and my best friend in bed flashed through my mind.
I’d never associated my husband with fear or pain before. But now, every time I thought about him, those were the only emotions that welled up inside of me.
Then, that image, so vile and disgusting, blazed in front of my eyes again.
A scene that I knew would be forever scorched into my brain and on my soul.
Our bedroom.
My husband.
My best friend.
Those words didn’t belong in a sentence, not together, and they didn’t make sense.
“Impossible.” Even as I whispered the words, the truth settled in my stomach like a lead weight.
I ran to the front of the shop.
“Where are you going? What about the police?” the cashier yelled after me.
I ran out the door and into the snowy night.
I skidded to a halt on the icy pavement and looked both ways. The streets were not familiar to me. I made the decision to keep heading right. It was better lit, and I figured it would eventually lead me into town where I could find my way home.
After thirty minutes of walking, my feet were numb from the cold.
“Maybe it was a dream.” I reached up, and my fingers grazed the faint scar on my neck. I snatched my hand away and cringed.
It didn’t make sense. Nothing about this whole fucking night made any sense.
I walked faster, my footsteps silent on the sidewalk. I looked around at the neighborhood I found myself in. Blanketed in snow, it didn’t seem so intimidating.
I stopped at the next corner and felt a tiny flicker of hope.
Sedgeway Drive.
Hope burst forth in my chest. I knew that street! If I turned and continued walking down Sedgeway, I’d eventually run into Foster. From there, it was a fifteen-minute drive to my neighborhood.
On foot, however, it would probably take an hour.
I broke into a jog, careful not to step on any spots that might be black ice. The last thing I needed was to break my leg and be hauled to the hospital wrapped in a giant bow.
The stores soon gave way to older homes—once the nicer part of town. But years of neglect had taken its toll on the
outdated, ranch-style houses.
I turned on Foster and continued running. I was surprised that I wasn’t getting cold or that my lungs didn’t ache like they usually did when I ran too fast.
I felt…different.
My eyes had adjusted well in the dark, and that was odd. Usually, I tried to avoid driving at night because the lights hurt my eyes and made it hard to see. I especially hated driving at night in the rain. I always avoided it when I could.
I was antsy, and I knew it must be the adrenaline pouring through my veins. After what I’d just been through, I was honestly surprised I was still on my feet and pushing forward.
My heart lurched for joy when I saw the gated entrance to our subdivision come into view. I was almost home.
I sprinted the rest of the way to the gate and stopped at the keypad. The gate hadn’t been locked when I left, but it was always shut after nine p.m.
I quickly punched in the access code and held my breath for entrance.
I let it out a big sigh when the large gates swung open. Wasting no time, I jogged inside.
My house was located a mile into the subdivision, backed up to a wooded area. Our neighborhood had a golf course, but we hadn’t built our house on the greens. Although my husband loved playing golf, he’d said he didn’t want to actually live on the fairways where people would be in your backyard all the time. So, we’d bought and built on one of the larger plots of land away from the course.
I jogged past my neighbors, barely giving them a glance. Some I knew well; others, I didn’t even know their names. Certain neighbors I’d only heard rumors about, and I steered clear of any of their drama.
A dog barked, and I jumped. I knew immediately who the bark belonged to. The white and tan beagle named Scooby. Scooby belonged to the Macys, who never put Scooby up. They believed that dogs weren’t meant to be in pens or kept on a leash, but should run free. Scooby had been a neighborhood nuisance for years, getting into people’s garbage, humping other dogs, and chasing after runners. I had my own encounters with Scooby nearly every time I went for a run. He’d tried to hump my leg twice and bite me once but, luckily, I was faster and had gotten away all three times.
It didn’t do any good to complain to the Macys either. A bunch of the ladies had gotten on the neighborhood group text to voice their complaints about Scooby. But Mr. Macy had fired right back, saying that if they didn’t like Scooby, then they should move.
After that, I fully expected the dog to turn up dead. But Scooby was still alive and humping his way through the neighborhood bitches.
The closer I got to my house, the faster I ran. My kids, Gabby and Arianna, would be home. I needed to see my girls.
No. That was wrong. The kids wouldn’t be home. They were at a sleepover.
I slowed my pace when I saw my house.
The image of my husband and my best friend once again filled my head. My chest ached, and I thought it might explode from the pain inside.
Were they still inside my house? Was Nikki still naked and curled up in my bed?
Oh, God. Did the neighbors see her?
Of course, they probably saw her. She was my best friend. She came over practically every day.
I walked up my driveway.
I punched in the code to the garage. The doors slid up. My heartbeat amped up when I saw Miles’ car inside.
I walked inside the garage, shivering with cold, adrenaline, and uncertainty. I reached for the door to the house.
The door swung open, and a wide-eyed Miles stood there, staring back at me.
Chapter 7
“Rachel. What are you doing here? It’s three o’clock in the morning. And why are you wearing a quilt?” Miles tightened the belt on his robe as his Adams’ apple bobbed like a cork. He shifted his weight, and his eyes widened. “Good Lord, you don’t have any shoes on. Are you naked under that dirty thing?”
Anger rushed from my chest and heated my face.
I didn’t take my eyes off his. I couldn’t. I needed to see what kind of man he was.
“I thought you were in Memphis.” He blinked and looked out into the garage and frowned. “Where’s your car?”
“I had car trouble.” Wasn’t exactly a lie. It was in the ditch somewhere. “I lied.”
“What do you mean, you lied? About the car trouble?” He froze.
“No. I lied. I didn’t go to Memphis. I said that so I could surprise you.” I barely got the words out through my thick throat. “For your birthday.” I blinked. “What have you been doing?”
He smiled the smile that I’d fallen in love with. Suddenly, everything felt wrong.
“I just got home around two. Surgery went late,” he said easily.
My stomach lurched. He lied right to my face.
I grabbed my churning stomach and ran to the bathroom off the kitchen.
“Are you okay?”
I slammed the door behind me and locked it before kneeling in front of the toilet. Everything I had eaten that day came up. Tears streamed down my face. Agony twisted deep in my chest.
My husband lied to me.
I’d never trusted someone as much as I trusted—had trusted—Miles. And he’d betrayed me.
“Rachel, are you okay? Are you sick? What do you need?” He knocked, and for a second, the gentleness in his tone almost made me open the door. Almost.
“Leave me alone,” I whispered and buried my face in my hands.
Sitting on the expensive marble flooring of my bathroom, I struggled to regulate my erratic breathing.
This would change me. In that heart-beat of a moment, I knew without a doubt, that I would be forever changed.
“Honey, let me in so I can help.”
My heart cramped and convulsed. How could he be so calm and caring after what he’d just done? After what he’d done to his family? After what he’d done to us?
I grabbed the sink and forced myself to stand. I looked at my haggard face in the mirror and cringed. I turned on the faucet and splashed my face with water, hoping to conceal my expression. Miles always told me never to play poker, that my feelings were written all over my face.
I’d worked on it over the course of our marriage. Feigning interest at parties with other housewives to advance his career and reputation while I slowly died of boredom inside as the conversations turned to how to put on the perfect child’s party, or talk of the latest interior decorating styles.
My breathing increased. Surely, sleeping with Nikki was a one-time thing. Surely, this hadn’t been going on forever. That’s why he sounded so concerned. He was feeling guilty. Surely…
My gut twisted.
I tightened my hand on the sink, scared that I would fall into the invisible black abyss of pain and uncertainty beneath my feet if I let go. That I would fall away from my life that I no longer recognized.
My gaze shifted down my body. Shit, I was still wearing the stupid bow.
I grabbed my quilt and wrapped it tightly around myself.
I sucked in a deep breath, but it didn’t help. My heart raced as I grasped the cold doorknob in my hand and twisted.
I opened the door to see Miles standing there. His handsome face was pinched with concern, and something else flashed behind his eyes. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his robe. “Are you all right?”
We were standing three feet apart, yet the distance felt like miles. I rubbed my hand over my aching chest and choked back tears.
I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry.
“I saw you.” My voice quivered, and I looked away. I couldn’t look at him anymore.
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” The remoteness in his voice confirmed my fears.
Anger…white-hot anger blazed up inside me like never before. I clenched my hands until they grew numb.
“I walked in on you and Nikki fucking in our bed.”
His eyes widened, and he glanced away. He shook his head furiously. “You’re crazy. That didn’t happen.”
“Calm down, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” He lowered his voice and began to blink rapidly like he was trying to come up with an explanation: any explanation that I would believe.
I stormed past him into the kitchen. I saw his phone lying on the counter and snatched it up.
“What are you doing?” Panic rose in his voice, and I knew I had him.
“If nothing is going on, then you won’t mind me looking through your phone.” The cell felt heavy in my hand, and I waited for him to tell me it was okay to look. The man I married never kept secrets from me. Never. We’d been together almost fifteen years. He was my best friend.
“Why are you acting like this, Rachel?” His gaze hardened.
“Acting like what?” My anger boiled in my gut, and I waited for his next few words.
“You’re acting crazy. For God’s sake, Rachel, you’re naked with nothing but a quilt on. And where’s the Volvo?”
“It’s in a ditch. I had to walk home after I wrecked.”
His eyes widened. “The neighbors didn’t see you, did they?”
That pissed me off. He was more concerned about what the neighbors thought than if I were okay.
I held up the phone and swiped my finger across the screen. It wasn’t locked. It didn’t surprise me. He never kept his screen locked. But then again, I never looked at it. He never gave me a reason to.
“Rachel, give me back my phone.” He took a step forward and held out his hand.
I skirted the granite kitchen island and pulled up his messages. I scanned them, noting the names. Me, the kids, various doctors he worked with all popped up on the screen.
“Why are you doing this?” His eyes widened, and the way he looked at me was strange.
He didn’t look like a man angry at his wife for falsely accusing him. He looked like a man afraid of a secret coming out.
“Maybe I’m wrong.” Was I going crazy? Had the whole thing been a nightmare?
“Of course, you are.” His shoulders relaxed, and he held out his hand again for the phone.
Instead of giving it back, I clicked on Nikki’s name.