Chapter Twenty
A scream ripped from her lungs as she pivoted, clawing at the door and jerking the knob, making no progress due to the locks. Her head smacked against the door as he spun her around and shoved her into the wood so hard her teeth clacked.
“What’s the hurry, wife? We have some catching up to do.”
Her heartbeat roared in her ears, as familiar hazel eyes narrowed, so full of venom and hate. She needed to call the cops. She needed to stop Dayton and Mattie from taking the bus home, figure out somewhere to send them, and find a way to get a message to the school. There wasn’t enough time!
She shoved past him only to get dragged back to the door and slammed into the wood again. “Marcus, don’t…” His smirk twisted as his hand closed around her throat.
In her nightmares, he never aged, but now his hair had faded from brown peppered with gray to silver peppered with ash. This was no dream.
His thumb dug painfully into her throat and she wheezed, “Marcus, please...” Tears blurred her vision.
Disgust hissed out of him like noxious gas. “Chloe, Chloe, Chloe… How you’ve played a game with me. Did you think I’d never find you? That you could take my sons and never pay the consequence?”
Her eyes watered. The more she tried to pry open his fingers the tighter they closed around her throat. Her phone was off and in her purse by her feet. So close yet too far.
“Marcus,” she begged, pulling at his tightening fingers.
“Let’s hear what you’ve got to say for yourself.” His fingers loosened and she gulped in a breath only to have them tighten again.
“It doesn’t have to be like this. I was scared. If you want to see the boys we could arrange some sort of legal visitation.”
“Legal?” She flinched, covering her face as he slammed his fist on the wall beside her head. “What kind of fucking fantasy world are you living in? They’re my sons! I have every legal right in the world to see them. I’m their fucking father!”
“I know. I’m sorry—”
The back of his hand knocked her head to the side as pain exploded in her cheek. “Shut up!”
She sobbed in terror, struggling to get past him, but he blocked her.
His saliva dotted his lips as he shouted in her face, making her flinch as he raised his fist again. “You’re the one who’ll need legal counsel. What you did was kidnapping! I could send you to rot in prison for what you put me through over the past six years. Then you wouldn’t have to concern yourself with your family anymore, you selfish bitch! You’ve kept them from me all this time—in my aunt’s fucking home!”
Spit mixed with the lingering drops of rain on her face. His words spread through her like poison. Sweat broke on her skin as her stomach knotted painfully and her heart stampeded in her chest. Pressure mounted as she tried to calculate a way to escape and find help. She was going to vomit.
“Look at what you’re doing, Marcus. This is why I left.”
“You left because you’re a selfish cunt!” His fist slammed into her stomach, radiating pain through her kidneys. She wheezed and he jerked her away from the door, shoving her toward the couch.
“No! No!”
“Shut up!” The back of his hand collided with her head, sending her sprawling onto the floor.
Coughing, she wobbled to her hands and knees. “Please. The kids will be—”
Nausea cut off her begging. Her eyes watered and she dry heaved, the fear of what was actually taking place too much.
“Get up.” He wrenched her arm behind her back, twisting her off balance and her face hit the floor. He dragged her to the couch.
She screamed in pain and tugged the coffee table, desperately trying to stop him. If he got on top of her she’d never get him off. “Get off of me you sick fuck!”
Pain exploded in her side as he drew back his designer shoe and kicked her. She collapsed, gasping for air. The carpet pressed into her cheek as she blinked through blurred vision and retched. Her labored breathing burned her lungs as she struggled to find her bearings and settle her stomach.
Where is he?
Wiping her eyes, she turned her head and stilled. He stood over her, a satisfied glint in his malicious eyes. “You always were pathetic.”
Her gaze went to the door and her panic surged when she didn’t see her purse or keys. She needed to call the police. Call the school and tell them not to release her sons.
He pulled an envelope from the front pocket of his shirt and dropped it to the floor. The white square fluttered and fell to the carpet with a foreboding tick. Her heart stopped beating when she recognized not only Dayton’s handwriting on the front but the return address stamp with her aunt’s name and information in the top corner.
“Do you know how much trouble and money you’ve cost me? How many professionals I’ve hired over the years? Thousands of dollars! You stole that from me, and time I’ll never get back with my sons!”
What was in that envelope? Oh, God, Dayton, what have you done?
“…the first man I hired found you, but lost you around the border of Mexico.”
Mexico? She tried to follow his words, but her thoughts were chaos.
“You’ve led me on a merry chase and to think, this entire time, you’ve been right under my nose in my relative's home. You’re a criminal, Chloe. Even your children hold your crimes against you. Go ahead…” He toed the envelope closer to her with his loafer, his every subtle move making her flinch. “Read what our son thinks of his dear old mom.”
“Marcus—”
“I said, read it!”
With shaking hands she reached for the envelope, afraid he would kick her again. The torn edges showed the same pale pink lining of the envelopes she kept in the basket on her desk. This was her envelope. It had been her son rummaging through her desk not long ago. That was why her things were out of place.
“Read it!”
Tears flooded her eyes as her hands shook violently, pulling the paper free. Dayton’s youthful script marked the page on both sides.
Dear Dad,
How are you? I am good. By the way, this is Dayton, your son. I am in 3 third grade now and go to a school called St. Ignatius. I miss you. Do you miss us? I love you. I was wondering if you could come visit us. We can show you our house and you can see my room. Maybe I can even show you some of my video games. I am on the third level of
Do you still live in Virginia? We live in Aunt Gina’s house, but she died. Sometimes I miss her. Mattie is good. Can you come get us? I was wondering how come you do not visit. Mommy says you will never live with us again, but I think if we all talk and try real hard we can be a family like we used to be.
We have nice naybers neighbors and friends here. You would like our home. You could sleep over. Mommy’s room if maybe you gave her a present. Mommy has a big bed like at the old house. You can sleep there. I do not want to have a different dad. Last week I found a letter from a man Mommy says he might is her friend. You need to Please visit soon so Mommy remembers that she is married to you. I just want us to be a family again.
Are you lonely all by yourself? I think about you at nighttime and in my prayers. Mommy told me she still loves you. Do you still love her? I told her if she tried real hard maybe you would be happy. She works every day when we are at school. We have an extra chair at the table where you could sit. Who makes dinner for you? Do you still have a red car? Our car is yellow.
If you get this maybe you can send me a letter back with a picture of you. I do not know if this is the right adres address. It was the only one for Virginia I could find. I am putting a picture from last year of me and Mattie in this envelope so you remember what we look like. It is from soccer camp. I scored 13 goals in one season. That is pretty good. Do you like soccer? Maybe you, Mattie and me could play one day when the whether weather gets warm. Do you get a lot of snow in Virginia? I have to go to bed. I am sorry my writing is sloppy. I should have used a pencil. I hope you get this letter. I miss you.
Love,
Dayton Maxwell Hunt Wolfe
Chloe folded the letter and placed it on top of the envelope with shaking hands. She wiped her tears and looked at Marcus with pleading eyes. “He doesn’t—”
“You think I give a shit about your excuses?” he roared. “They think I abandoned them!”
She sobbed, terrified that he might punish her boys as well. “They’re good boys, Marcus. Please don’t hurt them.”
“Here is what’s going to happen. You’re going to get your fat ass up and use the bathroom and then walk with me to the car. You will not run or scream or fight me in any way, or so help me God, Chloe, I will drag you right to the police and have you arrested for kidnapping. We’re driving back to Virginia, where you will be a dutiful and obedient wife—”
“But the boys—”
“The children are already on their way there.”
Terror lanced bluntly through her heart as it momentarily stopped beating. “What?”
He glanced at his watch. “We need to get moving. They left hours ago.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Saint Ignatius Elementary on Welsh Road.”
Shock settled over her so heavy, she began hyperventilating, her entire body trembling. “Marcus,” she pleaded, gasping for breath as the pressure in her chest became unbearable. “They won’t understand—”
“Whose fault is that?” He drew back his hand and she covered her face, cowering in silence.
It had been six years since someone struck her. She couldn’t go back to that. Nothing would break her faster than falling into her old position as his whipping post. She needed to get her boys and then she’d go to the police.
“Where are they? Who has them?”
“They’re halfway home. If you want to see them, get up and do exactly as I say.”
She panted, flinching at the slightest motion and holding her hands protectively above her face. Dear God, he stole her children, her babies. What were they thinking? “Can I call them?”
He laughed. “Do I look like I’m in the mood to do you any favors? You’re lucky I don’t choke the life out of you. Then it would be just me and Dayton and Matthew. An adjustment for them I’m sure, but they’d adapt—”
“I’ll go with you.” She couldn’t listen to anymore. The more he spoke the more time her boys spent alone with whatever lunatic was helping him.
He let out a cold laugh. “You act like I gave you a choice.” He lunged at her.
She screamed as he grabbed her jaw with bruising force. His fingers wedged between her lips, forcing her teeth apart.
“Open your fucking mouth!”
Choking, unsure what he was doing, she gagged. Gripping her by the face his fingers shoved between her lips to the back of her throat. His palm covered her mouth and nose. “Swallow.”
She gagged and fought him, but he jabbed a knee into her chest.
“Swallow it,” he growled.
Her eyes watered and she panicked, the taste of some sort of pill leaving a bitter trail on her tongue as it dissolved.
He let her go and she gasped, dry heaving as she faced the carpet on all fours. Her concentration zeroed in on the sensation of the capsule moving its way lower. Silently, she worked her throat, trying to regurgitate whatever he’d given her, but it was no use.
“Puke and I will kill you,” he whispered, close enough that his breath blew over her sweaty skin.
She shut her eyes and wept. Her happy life was over. She was going back to hell.
“We’ll be leaving shortly.” He casually adjusted the cuffs of his shirt. “You’ll need to piss before we go.”