And the horror on the little girl’s face. She looked like a little doll in her blue dress and matching ribbons in her blonde curly hair. A sweet, innocent doll.
“Then what happened?” Claire asked gently, bringing me back to the present moment. I was no longer in New York, on that sidewalk, surrounded by the scents of expensive perfume and fancy food, my face burning with embarrassment. I was here, safe, in an old, wooden, scarred, dark booth smelling of beer and cigarettes. I was safe.
“At first, he looked even more angry, and for a moment, I thought he was going to hit me anyway. But then, he composed himself and wrapped his arm around my shoulders and smiled at the little girl. ‘We’re just talking,’ he said. ‘That’s all. Everything is fine.’”
“What did the mother do?”
I stared into my drink. “She took her daughter by the hand, saying something like ‘Let’s go, sweetie.’ And that was it.”
“He didn’t hit you?”
I shook my head. “No. We were supposed to see my family later that day, and neither of us brought it up or talked about it. He changed the subject to something else … I can’t even remember what.”
I took a sip of my drink, feeling the alcohol burn my throat. “Seeing the shock on that little girl’s face was pretty bad. But it wasn’t the worst part. That was the mother.” I closed my eyes and scrubbed at my cheeks that still burned with humiliation. “The expression in her eyes as she looked at me.”
“What was it?” Claire asked. “Anger? Concern?”
“Pity,” I said. “She pitied me. Me. This was supposed to be my moment. I was literally raised to become the wife of an up-and-coming mover and shaker. There was no place for pity. I felt like I should be congratulated. Celebrated. Instead, I was pitied.”
I drained half my drink. “That’s what finally cut through all the excuses and pretty stories in my head. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Why would she pity me? I was about to have it all. But at what cost?
“Everything shifted. I started revisiting everything that had been happening. What if the real reason Alan didn’t want me to work or see my friends had nothing to do with having time to plan the wedding, but everything to do with isolating and controlling me? What if the jealously wasn’t because he loved me as a person, but because he thought of me as a possession? There were so many times he told me something only to deny it later. Then, he would insist I was remembering things wrong. What if that was a deliberate attempt to keep me unbalanced? Unsure of what was real and what wasn’t, making me openly question my own sanity? What if hurting me wasn’t a mistake, a one-time accident, but something that was going to become a regular part of my life?
“And that’s when I knew I had to end it. Before we sent out the invitations, before we got any deeper into the wedding planning than we already were. But I screwed up.
“My plan was to be all packed with a cab waiting for me outside, so as soon as Alan came home, I would tell him, and then immediately leave. I thought I’d be safe then, having someone else there. Alan hated making a scene in front of people. I figured if he knew there was a cab outside waiting for me, he’d let me go.”
“But he didn’t,” Claire guessed. “Even with the cab there.”
I shook my head. “I never got that far. He came home early. I was still in the bedroom packing. He must have ... I don’t know, sensed something, or found out somehow. I’m not sure, but he was already angry when he came into the bedroom.”
“That’s when he pushed you down the stairs?”
You can’t leave me. I won’t allow it.
I nodded. “We argued. He told me I was his. I couldn’t leave him. And if I tried, I wouldn’t like the consequences. He ... grabbed me. Twisted my arm. The pain was ... horrible. I thought he was going to break my shoulder. I begged him to let go. I told him I wouldn’t leave. He released me, but as soon as I caught my breath, I tried to get away. Made a run for it. That was when he came after me and pushed me down the stairs.”
Claire sucked in her breath, pressing her fingers against her mouth, her eyes like giant circles. “Oh, no.”
“I don’t remember much after I fell. Nothing at all until I woke up in the hospital and everyone—everyone—said it was an accident. The hospital staff. The cops. My sister.”
Claire gasped. “Your sister?”
I sighed. “I told you. Alan can be very charming. And no one wants to believe someone like him is, well, a monster.”
“But, still. I can’t believe your sister isn’t on your side.”
“She is. Or at least she thinks she is,” I said. “She wants what is best for me. Which is why she’s pushing so hard for me to come home and make up with Alan.”
“She wants you back with Alan?”
“Annabelle wants me to talk to him,” I said. “She did say if I still wanted to break up, she would support me, but she wants me to at least have a conversation with him. Anyway, Alan also came by the hospital to tell me how sorry he was. He claimed he couldn’t stop me from falling down the stairs. There I was, lying in a hospital bed as he told me how sorry he was that I had tripped and fallen … how much he loved me and didn’t want anything to happen to me. I must be ‘confused,’ he said. But here’s the thing.” I leaned forward. “I remember him pushing me. I remember the things he said to me. And I also remember the look in his eyes as he pushed me. In that moment, he wanted to kill me. I’m not sure what made him change his mind and call an ambulance. Maybe he realized there would be too many questions? I mean, how would he explain not calling an ambulance, especially if they searched the bedroom and saw I had packed my suitcases? Anyway, luckily for me, he did call. But, as I sat there in the hospital, with Alan spinning a completely different story, I realized if I didn’t leave him, he would kill me. Maybe not until after the wedding—maybe even a few years after the wedding. But eventually, it would happen. And I also realized in that moment that if I didn’t leave town, if I didn’t disappear, I was risking my entire family. There was no way he would allow me to cancel the wedding and walk away. His pride would never allow it. And anyone who helped me would be in just as much danger.
“That’s why I had to leave New York. And that’s why I have to leave Redemption.”
I sat back, suddenly exhausted. I felt like I had run a marathon. But I also felt a deep rush of relief. I had struggled with this burden for so long, not daring to tell anyone, and now that I had, I felt like I had shed about twenty extra pounds. The change was so sudden, I felt a little dizzy.
“So, I get why you had to leave New York,” Claire was saying, and I realized I had let my mind wander for a few moments. “But why do you have to leave Redemption? He doesn’t know you’re here, right?”
“He will,” I said darkly.
“How?”
“There are a few ways he could find out, but mostly likely, it will be from Annabelle.”
“Your sister?” Claire looked shocked. “Why would she tell him? And how does she even know you’re here?”
“She would tell him to spite me if I don’t come home. As to how she knows, I told her.”
“What? Why?”
I slumped down. “I needed money.”
“I thought you were rich?”
“My family is rich,” I corrected.
“Potato, po-tat-toe,” Claire said, rolling her eyes. “What’s the difference?”
I explained to her how my trust fund worked, and how Alan would be able to track me if I tried to access it. “That’s why I had Annabelle wire me money. But she didn’t wire enough, which is why the job you gave me was so valuable. Once the car is repaired, if I don’t show up in New York within a few days, she’ll know I haven’t left. And then she’ll tell Alan.”
“But why would she do that? Doesn’t she know she’s putting your life in danger?”
“She doesn’t see it that way
,” I said. “She thinks he’ll just come out here and talk some sense into me. Convince me to come home, get married, and stop making such a fuss.”
Claire was quiet for a moment, thinking. I finished off my drink and wondered if I should get a refill. I craned my neck looking for a waitress.
“But what if you stayed?” Claire asked.
I snapped my head back around. “Claire,” I said, exasperated. “Weren’t you listening? I just explained ...”
She held up her hand. “Hold on. I heard everything you said. But, Charlie. Are you really going to spend the rest of your life running? You have friends here. A community. What if rather than run, you stayed here and took a stand?”
I started shaking my head. “I don’t think so ...”
She leaned forward, excited. “You won’t be alone. Not like you would be back in New York with your family. We’ll stand with you. I mean, there’s one thing about bullies—if you stand up to them, most of the time, they’ll leave you alone.”
“Most of the time,” I said. “But not always. Sometimes, you get your butt kicked.”
She flapped her hands. “Rarely. Most of the time, it works. And don’t forget, Redemption will protect you. If you’re supposed to be here and he isn’t, you’ll be safe.”
“I’m not going to trust my life, or your lives, on this bizarro theory about the town,” I said.
“You don’t have to believe it for it to work,” she said seriously.
“We don’t even know if the town wants me here,” I said, although based on my dreams, I sort of doubted it as I said it. “Maybe Redemption doesn’t want me, which would mean Alan would have no trouble finding me here.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” she said. “The way you ended up here, and then your car breaking down. Not to mention Helen wanting to sell you her home. No, you’re supposed to be here. I think you should make your stand.”
“It’s a little too early to think about taking a stand anywhere,” I said. “I think the best thing I can do right now is to stay moving. Eventually, Alan will lose interest. He’ll find some other woman to marry and decide I’m not worth the trouble. When that happens, I can come back here.”
“How will you know that if you’re on the run?”
“I ... look, I haven’t figured everything out yet. But I do plan to check in from time to time with my family. I’m sure they’ll tell me once Alan gets engaged again, or married.”
Claire shot me a look. “That’s what you’re going to wait for? Alan to marry someone else?”
“It’s not a perfect plan,” I said.
“That’s an understatement, “ Claire grumbled.
“But it’s the best I have for the moment,” I said. “Right now, I just have to keep moving. It’s better for everyone that way.”
Claire leaned over the table again, staring me directly in the eyes. “Promise me you’ll consider it,” she said. “You still have until Wednesday. Just ... think about it. The town really will protect you. You’ll be safe here, safer than anywhere else. Just consider it.”
Finally, the waitress noticed our empty glasses and headed toward us, but I couldn’t tear myself away from Claire’s gaze. Her eyes were really quite lovely—the color of whisky with flecks of green and gold. They pleaded with me to throw caution to the wind and trust an utterly nonsensical version of reality.
But then I remembered my dreams. The cat. The house. How did I dream of that exact house before I even left New York? What were the odds of seeing a black cat in my dream, and then the mirror image of that cat living at that house?
Was it possible I really had been summoned to Redemption?
The moment he pushed you down the stairs, he began a chain reaction that will eventually lead to his doom.
Could Claire be right? That Redemption would protect me?
Nothing will be what it seems. What will save you will also destroy you.
No. There was too much on the line. I couldn’t risk it.
It was safer for everyone if I left.
Chapter 15
I returned to my hotel room exhausted and spent. All I wanted to do was take a bath and go to bed.
Instead, I took a deep breath and picked up the phone. I had to call Annabelle at some point. I might as well get it over with now.
I eyed the time as I listened to the phone ring. It was almost nine o’clock in New York, which was actually the perfect time for me to call. She would be in the middle of getting the kids ready for bed, which meant she wouldn’t want to be on the phone very long.
“Charlotte! I was worried. Why haven’t you called me?”
I sank down into the bed, tucking a leg underneath me. “Because I didn’t have anything to report.”
“You should have called anyway,” Annabelle’s voice was disapproving. “Or, you should’ve given me the phone number where you’re staying.”
“I’m not here very much, so it still would have been difficult for you to reach me,” I said. Although in truth, the less she knew about my current location, the better.
“Why aren’t you there? What are you doing?”
“Just ... things. Helping out some people in the community,” I said vaguely. I definitely didn’t want to her to know I had a job. “Anyway, I wanted to let you know the car will be ready on Wednesday.”
“About time. How long does it take to repair a car, anyway?”
“Well, they had some issues getting the right parts. I’m not sure what all happened. And they had to fix multiple problems.”
“Well, with all the time they spent, they probably could have rebuilt it from scratch,” Annabelle sniffed. “Hopefully, the people at the Podunk place you took it to know what they’re doing.”
“Hopefully,” I agreed. “So, expect a call on Wednesday. Is there a good time to reach you?”
“Hang on, let me get my calendar.” There was a pause, and I could hear her paging through it. “I have a board meeting for the library, but that should be done by noon. I should be back by early afternoon.”
“Okay, I’ll have the repair shop call you then,” I said. “Thanks, Annabelle. I should let you go ...”
“That’s kind of late in the day to leave,” she interrupted. “Do you think the car would be ready earlier? Before my meeting?”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “Remember, we’re an hour earlier than you here. That would be really early.”
“But won’t you get lost driving at night? You already got lost once.”
“I’ll leave Thursday,” I said. “I have to run some errands and get some food for the road. It will be easier to do once I have my car. And then I’ll get a good night of sleep and be ready to leave bright and early on Thursday.”
Annabelle grunted. “Thursday. This is all so ridiculous. It never should have taken this long.” She sighed. “I guess at this point, waiting one more day isn’t going to hurt. Thursday then. You should be home by Friday.”
I could feel my palms start to sweat. “That’s the plan.”
“All right.” Her voice sounded lighter and cheerier now that she had an actual date to expect me. “Charlotte, can you hang on one second? I have to do something.”
“Annabelle, I can just let you go ... “
“No, just give me a second.” There was a fumbling, muffled noise, and the sounds of conversation, although I couldn’t make out the words or voices. I drummed my fingers against my thigh impatiently. A part of me wanted to hang up, as I was sure I was about to be drawn into a conversation I didn’t want to have. But, if Annabelle wanted it, eventually, it would happen, so I figured I might as well get it over with.
“Hello, Charlotte.”
My breath stopped. My scar immediately started throbbing and my heart began beating erratically. It was all I could do to not slam the phone down and run into the bathr
oom to throw up.
“Hello, Alan,” I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “Where’s my sister? Can you put her back on?”
“In a minute,” he said. “I want to talk to you.”
“That’s too bad, because I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Charlotte, come now. Is it so strange to want to want to speak to your fiancé?”
“I’m not your fiancé anymore.”
“Charlotte, don’t be like that.” I heard the sound of footsteps and a door sliding shut. “I told you how sorry I was for not being able to keep you from falling.”
“You pushed me,” I said. My voice was getting louder and shriller, and I forced myself to breathe deeply as I tried to get myself back under control. Fear and anger warred inside me, and I wasn’t sure which would win.
“Sweetheart, you know that’s not what happened.” His voice was reproachful. “Does that sound like something I would do? You’re just confused. The doctor said that is common after a head injury. Once you recover, you’ll remember what really happened.”
I tightened my grip on the handset. “I remember perfectly. I do know what happened. You pushed me.”
“I reached for you,” he corrected. “You were so upset, remember? I was trying to calm you down before you hurt yourself. But I wasn’t able to grab you in time.”
“Of course I was upset. I was trying to leave you!”
“Yes, and I was trying to discuss it with you.”
“There’s nothing to discuss. The wedding is off.”
“Charlotte, sweetheart,” he said, his voice pained. “You’re being irrational.”
“Stop calling me that,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Stop calling you what? Charlotte?”
Fear darted through me. Did Annabelle tell him I wanted to be called Charlie now? What else had she told him? “‘Sweetheart,’” I said. “I’m not your ‘sweetheart’ anymore.”
He sighed heavily. “All right, Charlotte. Look, I know you were upset with me. And I did handle things badly ...”
My eyes widened and I almost dropped the phone. Was he admitting it? That would be a first.
The Summoning: A gripping psychological thriller (Secrets of Redemption Book 4) Page 13