Chapter Thirty
She failed. She failed herself and her children and that realization paralyzed her with defeat. As Marcus thanked the officer while walking him to the front door, she sat stunned. What was wrong with her? Help had arrived, first Trenton, then a police officer and her fear decapitated her chance of escape.
She twitched with uncertainty, wanting to scream and call the cop back as the door closed behind him, Marcus’s fingers twisting the locks. If she’d known where her children were, had a guarantee she could reach them before Marcus, she would have gone with the devil himself, but he would beat her to them and then he would likely beat her—maybe the kids as well.
She had no choice but to follow his lead, agree with his ludicrous statement that Trenton Cole had barged into their home—a jealous ex-lover intent on getting her back after she’d made her choice clear. Marcus was a horrible person who didn’t have a single good bone in his body, but he was the best liar she’d ever met. He even showed the cop where Trenton had apparently punched the wall, threatening him.
Only a monster could convince the world he was the victim. And she’d nodded along with every despicable lie for fear that he’d punish her through her children if she so much as blinked wrong.
And now her hope was gone. Vanished, because she’d said nothing when she could have told them everything. She felt like a balloon cut away from its string, floating to places unknown. Once the two officers took their statement and left, Marcus made her a sandwich.
“You did very well. After you’re finished eating, we have some calls to make.”
Her stomach was so sore and so upset she could only eat half. Her boys would be home in an hour and her excitement at seeing them also hindered her appetite. “Calls?”
“We’re going to call anyone who know about us. You’ll call them and tell them the same thing you told the police—that we’ve reconciled.”
Her rage was no longer debilitating. It was now a seething animal caged inside of her, pacing until the opportunity of freedom arrived. “What about my practice?”
“You’ll notify your secretary that you’ll be taking an undetermined leave of absence. We can work out the details later.”
He withdrew her cellphone from her pocket and her breath caught.
“Let’s start with the A’s. Who’s Adam?”
Lying to the police was one thing, but lying to her friends… It almost gave her hope. “He’s my neighbor.”
“Does he know you’re married?”
She kept her expression blank. “No.”
“Are you close to him?”
“No. I only have his number because I get his mail when he travels for business. I think he’s an accountant.”
“Fine. Alison?”
She cursed herself for not realizing if he didn’t exist to someone they didn’t exist. She should have said she knew Adam. He might be able to argue her case to the police. But it was too late. “Alison’s a patient.”
“Jade?”
No, Jade had been through too much and was pregnant. “Another patient.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Are you lying to me?”
Her heart beat out of sync. “She’s also a friend.”
“Does she know you’re married?”
Her jaw trembled as she tried to recall the things she’d confided in Jade. “No. If I tried to explain this she’d be confused.” That was the truth.
“Jeremy?”
She slowed her breathing. “He’s a friend.”
He lifted a brow. “Quite a few male friends in your life. Did you fuck him?”
“No.”
“Does he know you’re married?”
Considering that he worked with Trenton who now figured out where she was, they likely all knew about Marcus at this point. And if Trenton was truly hired by Marcus to find her, they might have always known. “Yes, he knows I’m married.”
“You know what to say to him. Keep it short and sweet.” He pressed a button and placed the phone on the table, activating the speakerphone.
“Hello?”
She glanced at Marcus and he nodded to the phone. “Jeremy, it’s Chloe.”
“Chloe—”
“I’m calling to tell you I’ve gotten back with Marcus.” She cut him off before he could say anything, alerting Marcus to his association with Trenton. “I’m in Virginia in case you were looking for me.”
There was a long pause. “That’s … good. The boys must be happy.”
The mention of her sons put a lump in her throat, but she picked up on his carefully selected words and kept her expression blank. Dear God this had to work. “We’re all very happy with the situation. They’ve started a new school.”
“You’re staying out of town?”
She swallowed. “Yes. Indefinitely. I wanted to let you know so you didn’t worry. The boys will miss playing with your son … Tyson.”
Another long pause. “My … son will miss playing with them. I’m sorry to hear this but I’m happy you’ve worked out your marriage. We were planning a trip and were hoping they might be able to come.”
“Oh, I’m afraid that wouldn’t work for us right now. Are you finally visiting Phoenix? Or is this the trip to Georgia you mentioned?”
“We’re definitely heading to Phoenix.”
Marcus made a gesture for her to wrap it up. “Well, I hope you get to Phoenix soon.”
“We’re leaving tomorrow. I hope … he treats you well, Chloe.”
“Thank you. Goodbye, Jeremy.”
“Goodbye.”
He ended the call. “Keep it a little shorter next time.”
Her lips twitched as a new hope formed. Jeremy was smart and he seemed to understand everything she’d implied without actually saying the words. Go to Phoenix. Talk to Pete. The moment she referred to Tyson as his son he would have known she was trying to convey something in secret because Marcus was there.
Marcus glanced at his watch. “Time to go back upstairs.”
Startled that he was sending her back to that horrible room she hesitated. “I thought…”
“You didn’t think I’d let you roam the house while I got the boys, did you? You’re far from deserving that kind of trust. I’ll tell the boys you arrived this morning—after I get them home and see you’ve behaved.”
There was always a condition. Always a consequence.
He walked her to the second floor and closed her in the empty bedroom, locking the door tight. She watched from the window as his car pulled away. Her boys… She was going to see her boys.
So as not to worry them that anything was amiss, she tried her best to fix her hair, but all she had to work with was her fingers. She straightened her clothing and washed her face, but looked nothing like herself without makeup to cover the bruising.
Sometime later, the garage door rumbled and her stomach flipped. They were home.
She stood in front of the locked bedroom door for what felt like hours as she waited for it to open. Was he dragging this out on purpose? What was he telling her children? Six years ago, when she’d been running for her life and separated from them, she’d found a way to still call them every day—even when it required the last cent to her name. They’d known something was up then and they were only babies. They would absolutely suspect something now.
When the door finally opened, Marcus said nothing but led her down the stairs. Tears of relief blurred her vision the moment she spotted Dayton and Mattie sitting on the sofa.
Mattie gasped when he saw her and ran into her arms. She tried not to flinch at the force of his hug, telling herself his arms around her were worth the pain, but an ache started in her chest at the realization that she was back to hiding bruises from those closest to her.
Dayton wouldn’t meet her gaze. His hair was trimmed and neatly swept to the side. Her big man suddenly seemed such a small, fragile boy. As much as the last few months had challenged her as a parent, she wanted her audacious son back.
She walked over to him and knelt, turning his face and looking into his eyes. “Day?”
He slowly raised his lashes and gazed at her. Insecurity and guilt flashed in his eyes and her heart cinched. This chaos was too much for a little boy to bear.
She brushed the backs of her fingers down his porcelain cheek. “Sweetie, everything’s okay. I’m not upset with you.”
His eyes filled with unshed tears as he fought to keep them from trickling past his lashes. She hated seeing him confused and upset. He didn’t say it, but she saw it in his pinched brow and trembling lips. He blamed himself for pressing go on this roller coaster. But she couldn’t blame him. This was her mess she’d never properly cleaned up. Never his.
Pressing her lips to his forehead, she pulled him into her arms and whispered, “Everything’s going to be fine. You’re not in any trouble.”
Throwing his arms around her neck, he squeezed her tighter than he had in years.
That night she had a chance to see the rest of the house. It was very much the same and now somewhat out of date. The boys’ rooms were changed, smelling of fresh paint and new furniture. Dayton’s room no longer had access to a bathroom and Mattie was sleeping in what used to be Marcus’s home office.
Marcus had ordered pizza that evening and informed her she’d have a salad. She didn’t care, as long as she was sharing the meal with her sons. Mattie did most of the talking while Dayton listened quietly, his eyes turned down. He was old enough to know this artificial normal was nothing but fake playacting meant to cover up something very bad.
They seemed to have questions but hesitated to ask about their situation, which was unexpected but wise. Dayton watched his father carefully, as if somewhat disappointed in the man he’d found, a glorified hero embellished over time and almost forgotten with each passing year. She wished he had a better father, someone he could look up to and respect. But she wished for a lot of things that would never be.
At seven-thirty, Marcus announced it was time for the boys to go to bed. Chloe frowned. They were nine and seven. She usually let them stay up until at least eight-thirty. She was sure they’d object to such an early bedtime, but they didn’t. They dutifully stood and kissed her cheek.
“Will you read me a story, Mommy?” Mattie whispered as his little arms wreathed her neck.
Marcus, overhearing the sweet request, answered before she had the chance. “Not tonight, Matthew. Your mother’s had a long day and we need to discuss some things privately.”
She tried not to worry over what those ‘things’ might be.
After the boys were sent to bed she cleaned up the kitchen while Marcus sat at the table supervising. Odd changes had been made to their old home. Child safety locks had been replaced with key locks. She couldn’t open any drawers that contained the knives or silverware. All cabinets housing cleaning products and chemicals were locked away as well. All the windows had locks and all the knobs in the house had been replaced to require a key. Their home had become a prison.
Worry over fire safety added to the sour knot in her stomach. An alarm system had been installed, the control panel located by the front door and another upstairs outside of the master bedroom.
As Marcus shut off the lights and walked her up the stairs, he blocked her view of the panel and typed in a code. There were a series of beeps.
“If anything heavier than a kitten touches that floor, the alarm will sound and the cops will arrive within six minutes.”
As she turned to the empty room she now considered hers, he caught her arm and she shivered. “We’re going to try something different tonight.”
He waved a hand toward the master bedroom and her old cell suddenly called to her like a sanctuary. Being locked in that hollow vault was better than sharing a bed with him. So many horrible memories.
Marcus nudged her into the room and she slowly stepped to what was once her side of the bed, the knot in her stomach tightening painfully. The door shut and locked with an unsettling click.
“Remove your clothes.”
Shutting her eyes, she comforted herself with the fact that she saw her boys today. He’d kept his word and if she kept up her agreeable act, she might see them again tomorrow, so she did as he said. She endured once more, every forced surrender stealing a bit of her dignity she’d never get back.
She cringed as his fingers tripped over her flesh with cool, placid entitlement. His calm unsettled her and her muscles jerked with every caress, her instinct to pull away enough to make her whole body tremble.
He made her feel dead, like a frog pinned to a sheet of wax in a high school science lab, prostrate to his poking, prodding, and mental dissection. She’d bear it. Build up her strength and get the fuck out of this place eventually.
She tried to escape twice before. Once she failed and he’d broken her hand. The second time she wasn’t so careless. This time she’d have to be even more cautious.
Her mind slipped away as he entered her. It hurt, but she did little more than gasp and wheeze as his weight settled on top of her, rutting into her with punishing thrusts and grunts. Arms going numb under his weight, she shut her eyes and waited for it to be over.
She hurt from places she couldn’t name. She hurt in her heart. She hurt from hunger and thirst. She hurt from thinking too hard. She hurt on the outside and even worse on the inside. She hurt so much she didn’t know if she’d ever not hurt again.
When he finished she felt more like a receptacle than a human being. She lay there, staring blindly at the wall, as he caught his breath beside her. How many more times could she survive that? If he didn’t beat her to death, he’d kill her in other ways. Her mind was already fragmenting, her usual thought patterns forgotten and replaced with a sort of cognitive gibberish.
Standing, he wrapped a robe around himself and handed her a nightgown. She slipped it over her body.
“Come with me.”
Hopeful that he might be returning her to her cell, she did as he said. Walls between them—locked doors or not—were always better than suffering next to him.
He unlocked the door to the empty bedroom and held out a hand. “Take this.”
Another pill, this one small and blue. All the drugs he forced on her over the past two days probably weren’t helping her stomach, but the thought of mental oblivion was tempting. Only… She had to remain coherent in case anything happened with her boys. It was better not to take it.
“I’m already exhausted, Marcus. I promise I’ll sleep. I’m—”
“It’s not a sleeping pill. It’s birth control.”
This might be the nicest thing he’d offered her in years. She took the pill and willingly swallowed it. “I’ll be back in a few hours.” He shut the door and locked it.
Her body sagged. Finally, she was alone. She walked into the bathroom and filled the tub, wanting every last trace of him off her.