Just keep moving.  

Covered in sweat and wearing only a white cotton dress and silver sandals, I raced through the large two-story house I’d called home for the last five years.   

Running on nothing but fear and adrenaline, I willed my weak legs to pump harder and demanded that my damaged body move faster.   

The clock was ticking, time was slipping away. With only mere hours left until he returned, I didn’t have a single second to waste.   

Sliding to a stop in the hallway, I picked up the packed duffle bag that sat by the master bedroom door, and pulled it over my shoulder. I lost my breath as agonizing pain ripped through me. The added weight was too much for me to handle. My bones felt as though they’d snap, my muscles as if they’d tear from the bone.     

I ground my back teeth together and pushed through the torment.   

I will not fail, I told myself. Not this time.   

“Boys,” I called out between gasps for breath. “Come in here.”   

My sons—Liam who was five, and Declan who was four—crept out of their bedroom after looking both ways down the empty hall. Their eyes scanned the length of my body taking in the maze of fresh cuts and bruises that covered the expanse of my bare skin.   

I wish I could say it was the first time they’d seen me battered and bruised but that would be a lie. The injuries marring my pale flesh were a regular occurrence, and they knew full well the evil the monster we lived with was capable of.   

They’d seen it. They’d heard it.   

Luckily, they’d never been on the receiving end.  

It would stay that way.  

As long as I had a single breath left in my body, I wouldn’t allow them to be hurt.   

I’d die first.   

Kneeling before them, I blinked back the tears that threatened to spill from my blackened eyes. “It’s time to go on an adventure, little guys,” I whispered, my voice shaky.    

Declan’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Where are we going, Mommy? Are we finally running away?” The hope lining his voice caused my hands to shake.  

“Yes, handsome, we are,” I replied. “We’re running far, far away.”    

Beside Declan, Liam’s face hardened. My heart clenched at the sight. My sweet boy was far too young to look so angry. “Good,” he snapped. “Cause I don’t want to stay here no more.”   

Tick Tock.   

Tick Tock.   

The ticking of the antique cuckoo clock down the hall reminded me we had no time to waste. With each second that passed, the likelihood of us being caught—and of me being killed—grew.   

We needed to move. Now.   

I stood on unsteady feet and held out my right hand. “Come on, babies. A whole new world awaits us.”   

“I want to see a new w-world,” Declan stuttered, slipping his hand in mine. The smile that spread across his face warmed the coldness in my chest, abating the crippling fear that possessed me.   

Be brave. Be strong.   

You can do this… You have to do this.  

I peered over Declan’s head, locking gazes with my oldest little guy. “Liam,” I said. “Take your brother’s hand. We need to go, baby.”   

He took Declan’s hand in his, and together we moved.   

Upon reaching the front door, I hesitated before wrapping a shaky hand around the knob.  

Heart pounding, I sent up a silent prayer.  

Dear God, this is Clara Rose. Please keep us safe. Just this once.  

 “Alright, boys,” I said, quiet as a mouse. “Here we go.”   

With a flick of my wrist, I opened the door, expecting to be met by the darkness of the summer night. But it wasn’t the twinkling stars and humid Georgia air that greeted us.   

No, it was something else entirely.   

And that something else was my worst nightmare.  

Oh God, I silently cried. This can’t be happening.   

Standing in front of me, his face twisted in anger, was my jailer—the man who held the key to the gilded cage where I’d been imprisoned for the past five years.   

A cage he had vowed to never let me escape.  

If you try to run, I’ll kill you, he’d sworn. Painfully. Slowly. Surely.    

Fear consumed me as I looked into the eyes of my husband and the father of my children, a real-life monster.  

“Colin.” His name was a terrified whisper on my lips. “Please, don’t—”  

I didn’t get a chance to finish my sentence.   

Without warning, his scarred knuckles met my lips, splitting them both.  

The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, and fragments of a broken tooth scraped across my tongue.   

I stumbled backward, losing my balance.   

“Mommy!” Declan screamed as my hand was ripped free from his.  

Unable to right myself, I fell. My back met the marble in a bone-jarring thud. I gasped for breath and rolled to my side. Desperate to get my boys out of danger, I met Liam’s terrified gaze and mouthed a single word.   

That word? Hide.   

Colin’s shadow loomed over me, but I paid him no mind. I was too busy staring into the eyes of my oldest son, hoping he would do as I said. My punishment, one which may cause my heart to beat no longer, was only just beginning.   

He needed to take Declan and get out of sight.  

If he didn’t, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to protect them.  

“Go,” I mouthed again, my eyes pleading for him to listen. “Now.”   

Relief washed over me when he stepped back, pulling Declan along with him. Step after step they tiptoed down the hall until they disappeared from sight. Into their bedroom they ran, and into their closet they would hide.   

A tear, the first of many, fell.   

Please don’t let that be the last time I see them.  

Not wanting to direct Colin’s attention to the boys, I turned on my back and looked up at him. His expression caused a new wave of fear to consume me. I’d seen him angry before, and I’d felt the effects of his temper in the form of bruises and broken bones.   

Yet, I’d never seen his pupils swim with such rage.  

And it was all because I tried to run…   

… Tried to escape.  

He leaned over me, his eyes locked on my face. I hunched my shoulders, curling in on myself. “You made a mistake, wife,” he hissed. His Irish accent was thicker than normal, a telltale sign of how angry he was. “Now you’ll reap the consequences.”   

Without missing a beat, he slammed his booted foot into my ribs. The bone gave way, cracking. Fire, followed by intense pressure, ripped through my side.  

I screamed in agony and curled into a ball to protect myself.   

The move did little to help.   

Hit after hit, kick after kick.   

Each strike landed with such force it stole the breath from my lungs.  

“You stupid bitch!” He bellowed. “How could you do this to me?” His voice became louder, his tone more sinister with each word he spoke. He fisted my dress in his hand and yanked me off the floor, bringing my nose to within an inch of his. The smell of Irish Whiskey wafted across my face, making my stomach roll. “I told you what I’d do if you tried to leave me, didn’t I?”   

I didn’t have time to respond before he dropped me back to the floor. Shaking his head, he leered down at me with a mixture of hate and disgust. “You brought this all on yourself, lass”—he raised his hand into the air—“and you deserve everything you’re about to receive.”   

Without saying another word, he slammed his fist against my right temple.   

The hit was harder than any that came before it.   

Upon impact, everything went black.   

I'm going to die.  

It was the lone thought running through my mind as I kneeled on the cold marble floor at Colin’s feet. Half-conscious, I floated between being awake and asleep. How long I’d been slipping from one state to the next, I don’t know.   

My mind was fuzzy, my thoughts chaotic.  

A myriad of painful injuries riddled the length of my body.   

Cataloging each one kept my mind busy, helping me stay conscious. 

My lips were busted, my nose shattered, my ribs cracked.  

Blood trickled from my nose, my lip, and from the cut above my right eye.  

Beaten worse than ever before, I was close to passing out again. Sheer will was the only thing keeping me awake. My determination to keep Colin’s violent rage focused on me instead of the boys was stronger than the desire to slip into unconsciousness where monsters and pain didn’t exist.   

Stay awake. Don’t let the blackness take you under.  

A single bead of sweat slid down my cheek when Colin grabbed a fistful of my hair, and wrenched my head back, forcing my gaze up.  

I cried out in pain as he pulled harder, ripping strands of red hair from my scalp.   

"Colin," I begged. "Please…" A sadistic smile tipped his lips heavenward. He loved it when I begged. "… let me g-go."   

"Let you go?" He scoffed. "I'll never let you go."   

His words were like an ice pick straight to the heart.  

Sharp and piercing, they hurt worse than any beating he'd ever handed me.   

Bruises, black eyes, broken bones... they all healed.   

But losing hope that my boys and I would one day escape him?   

That was unbearable.   

I hissed in agony as Colin wrapped his free hand around my jaw and squeezed.  

I expected the bone to give way under his unrelenting grip at any moment. More bruises were a given, but I prayed I would be spared a fractured jaw.  

"You know damn well I'll never let you leave," he growled. "Yet you still tried to run."   

He removed his hands from my body, releasing me.  

Off balance and unable to hold myself up, I fell to my side.   

Colin laughed at my waning strength and squatted before me. "Tell me, Clara, what was your plan?" Did you think you’d run away while I was at work and start up a new life somewhere else? Newsflash, you dumb cunt—you have no money, no family. Without me, your nothing."   

His truthful words cut deep.   

Since the day I was born I'd been nothing.   

Abandoned at birth by my mother, I’d grown up as nothing more than an unwanted foster kid. Now, twenty-three years later, I’d morphed into an unwanted wife, one whose primary purpose in life was to serve as a punching bag for her alcoholic husband.  

"It's a good thing I came home early, isn't it, lass? Imagine if you'd escaped,” Colin said. “You would've been on the street or living in a shelter within a week."   

Compared to the hell I lived in, a shelter sounded like heaven.  

"Is that what you want for our sons, Clara?"   

All I wanted for my sons was safety.   

It was something I couldn't give them while living with their father.   

At my continued silence, Colin yanked on my hair. Hard. "Answer me."  

Even though I expected him to hit me again, I refused to speak.   

My defiance only made him angrier.   

Staring at the wedding picture that hung on the far wall, he cracked his neck and exhaled. "How long have you been planning this?"  

I didn't have time to reply, not that I would have, before he reached out, striking me across the face. My brain rattled in my skull, and my skin tore open where his knuckles met my tender flesh. Bright spots danced in front of my eyes, and I held up my arms to ward off the additional blows that were coming.   

The move was useless.   

Colin knocked my hands away with his forearm, grabbed me by the throat and lifted me to my feet once again. My panic skyrocketed as he squeezed harder, cutting off my ability to breathe. I clawed at his hands and wrists with my fingernails and kicked at him with my legs.   

My efforts were in vain. Colin was so much bigger, so much stronger. I didn't stand a chance against him. Never had.   

Suddenly, we began to move.  

Busy fighting for my life, I paid no attention to where he was taking me.  

I was too focused on survival.  

If he killed me, there would be nothing standing between him and our sons.   

It didn't matter that he'd never harmed them before.   

If I wasn't around for him to abuse, he'd go after my babies, and that was something I would never allow to happen. I may have failed at protecting myself, but I'd be damned if I let him hurt them. There wasn't a line I wouldn't cross to keep them safe. They were my heart and soul, and I'd walk to my death with my head held high if it ensured their safety.   

I was nothing, but they were everything.   

In the hallway, Colin came to a stop and released my throat. I gasped for air and drew as much oxygen into my starving lungs as I could. It wasn't until I lifted my gaze from the floor that I noticed where we'd stopped.   

I almost crumpled when I saw the door to the basement in front of me. "Oh God," I said, falling back against the wall. "Please," I begged. "I can't—"  

Colin opened the door, grabbed my forearm and shoved me toward the blackness.   

I dug my heels into the floor and shook my head back and forth. Tears poured from my swollen eyes. "No. I won't go back down there. I'll never go back…"  

My belly churned, and I was seconds away from vomiting on the floor.  

"You will," Colin said in a dangerous tone. "And you'll fucking stay down there until I decide I can trust you again. I should kill you for what you've done, but that would be too easy. No, lass, this time I think I'll make you listen as I punish our sons for your disobedience."   

I froze.  

"Then maybe you'll learn not to betray me." He moved closer, his grip tightened. "I wonder whose screams will be the loudest. Yours, Clara"—he pressed a kiss to my shoulder—"or theirs?"  

Every maternal instinct I possessed rose to the surface at his words, and a fierceness I’d never experienced before took root in my gut. Fire bled into my veins, and determination set in.  

My adrenaline surged.  

My pain dulled.  

My fear evaporated.  

 I won't let him hurt my sons.   

I'll kill him first.   

My body trembled as I pivoted on shaky legs to face the man who'd abused me since the day we wed. His sadistic gaze locked with my determined one, and for the first time in five years, the blinding fear that normally consumed me when looking up at him was absent.   

"The only person who will scream, Colin… Is you."  

Before he had a chance to react, I struck.   

The heel of my hand slammed into his nose. A crunching sound followed.  

The first drop of blood fell as I lifted my knee and shoved it into his groin.  

Colin buckled.   

His knees hit the hard floor, and his face contorted in pain.  

I could only imagine what he thought since it was the first time I'd fought back.  

The prey has become the predator…  

Before I could strike out again, Colin lunged for me.  

An enraged yell escaped him as I evaded his grab.  

I turned and ran toward the kitchen while I prayed that the boys would stay hidden.  

Colin’s heavy footsteps followed.   

Move faster! The voice in my head screamed.  

When I reached the kitchen, I snatched a butcher knife from the wood block sitting next to the stove and spun around. I raised my arm above my head, prepared to kill the man whose ring I wore on my left hand.  

The scream that tore from my throat was a battle cry.  

Before I could sink the blade into his chest, he knocked it out my hand.  

The knife tumbled to the floor and slid across the room.  

A second later Colin’s fist connected with my jaw. My head snapped to the right, and I fell. Bone cracked, and pain exploded down my forearm and into my wrist as I landed on my right side.  

I knew a fracture when I felt one.   

Colin followed me down to the floor. Straddling my hips, he wrapped both of his hands around my neck. Then he squeezed. Hard. For the second time that night, I lost the ability to breathe. Pressure built in my chest and my lungs screamed in agony.   

"You stupid fucking bitch!" He shouted. "After everything I've done for you, after everything I've given you!"  

My vision tunneled.  

My hearing dulled.   

Strength waning, I fought him with all my might.   

But no matter what I did, nothing worked.   

His grip remained unwavering and strong.  

My head felt like it would explode at any moment, and my limbs grew numb.  

The end of my life was barreling down on me, and I could do nothing to stop it.   

And because of my failure to save myself, I was leaving my sons vulnerable.   

I'm weak. I failed and now—  

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream rang out, cutting off my thoughts.   

Liam.   

Stunned by the sound, Colin released my neck.  

I turned to my side and clawed at the tile, sucking in breath after breath.   

Color bled back into my field of vision, my hearing returned.  

A new wave of horror crashed through me when I looked up and saw Liam launch himself at the spot where I was lying on the floor, Colin crouched above me.   

No, baby, no!  

He latched onto Colin’s back and pounded his fists against his father's shoulders. "Get off my Mommy!" He screeched, red-faced. "Get. Off!"  

Evil flashed in Colin's eyes as he reached over his shoulder and grabbed the front of my baby's pajama top with one hand, bunching the material in his fingers. He ripped Liam from his back and swung him around to his side, out of my reach. "You're just like your mother." His voice dripped with malice. "And now you'll be punished like her."   

No way in hell.  

I pushed to my elbows and kicked Colin in the gut as hard as I could.  

He lost his balance, falling, but the kick came a second too late.   

With a hard shove, Colin had flung Liam across the room.   

I wailed in outrage as my little boy’s body slammed into the cabinet below the sink. Upon impact, his cheek split—just like mine—and blood oozed from the wound.   

In a rage, I climbed to my feet and using my non-broken arm, I picked up the first object I saw.   

That object? A cast-iron skillet.   

I lifted the skillet into the air, hell-bent on vanquishing the monster before me.  

At that moment, nothing could've stopped me from ending his life.  

After hurting my son, he deserved nothing less than death.  

 I was about to slam the heavy pan down onto Colin's head when a deep voice I'd never heard before, shouted, "Put the weapon down, Mrs. O'Bannon!"   

I froze and looked up.   

When I saw two uniformed police officers making their way down the hall toward us, their guns raised, confusion set in. Then I saw Declan standing behind them, my cell phone clutched in his fingers, and it began to make sense.   

One of the boys had called the police.  

Momentary fear consumed me as the officers moved closer. That fear, however, evaporated when I saw that neither officer had their gun trained on me.   

Instead, both were aimed at Colin's back.   

All it had taken was one glance at my busted face for them to know who the real criminal was. I may have been close to committing murder, but it would've been in self-defense.   

That truth was obvious to everyone standing in that room.  

Knowing we were finally safe, I dropped the pan to the floor and rushed to Liam. "Mommy," he cried as I pulled him close with my good arm. His body shook, and the front of his pants was wet with urine.  

"I’m here, baby," I said, running my hand over his body, checking for injuries. "Tell me where it hurts." He whimpered and touched the cut on his cheek. Heartbreak and a lot of anger flooded my system at his pain-filled expression.  

"Does anything else hurt?" I asked, fighting back fresh tears.   

He shook his head. "Need to get Declan. He's scared."   

I nodded and winced as bolts of pain streaked through my head. My adrenaline was tanking, the pain returning. I needed to reach Declan before I lost the ability to move. "Hold on, sweet boy. I'll get him."   

I held Liam tight against me and looked over my shoulder at the first officer. He was crouched over Colin, his knee pressed into his lower back as the second officer placed handcuffs around his wrists.   

Instant relief.  

He couldn’t hurt us. Not anymore.  

"Sir, my son, Declan…" He looked up, meeting my gaze. "He’s in the hall. I need him..."  

The officer nodded in understanding. His eyes flicked to his partner. "You have this under control?"   

"10-4, bossman. Grab the kid. I'll take this piece of s—" The second officer stopped speaking and inhaled. "I'll take Mr. O'Bannon to the squad car and let EMS know the scene is secure."  

He stood, dragging a silent Colin with him.  

As the first officer left to retrieve Declan, Colin's hate-filled eyes locked on me.  

"This isn't over," he mouthed, dropping his gaze to a trembling Liam. I pushed Liam behind me, blocking him from Colin's view. My soon-to-be-incarcerated husband's cheeks reddened in anger as he jerked his gaze back to me. "Not even close."   

My knees shook, my legs grew weak.   

By some miracle, I kept myself upright until the officer dragged Colin from the kitchen via the patio door. Once he was gone, I collapsed to the floor, falling hard.   

Panicked, Liam grabbed the front of my dress. "Mommy!"   

Hearing his scream, the first officer rounded the corner in a rush, pulling a terrified-looking Declan behind him. He dropped to his knees in front of me and grabbed my shoulders, holding me steady. I stared at Declan, my eyes full of tears. "Declan, baby..."   

His chin wobbled. "Liam stopped him, Mommy. He stopped him this time."   

My heart shattered.   

Neither of my boys had started school yet, but they’d already learned first-hand how cruel humans could be. Because of my weakness, they’d seen things no child should ever see.   

I'd let them both down.   

The only thing I'd ever wanted was to be a good mother, but I'd failed. It didn't matter if we escaped now or not, both my sons would forever bear scars because of what they'd been forced to live through.   

And it was all my fault.   

I'd never forgive myself.   

"I'm sorry," I choked around a sob, growing dizzier with each passing second. "I'm so sorry, little guys."   

Declan's eyes widened, and Liam wrapped his arm around my broken one. It should have hurt, but I felt no pain. The only pain I felt radiated from the center of my chest, the place where my broken heart rested.    

The officer's hands tightened on my shoulders, but it didn't matter. There was nothing he could do to keep me from floating away. Not even the guilt and sorrow invading every cell in my body could keep me conscious.   

I failed. I failed. I failed.   

With the last of my strength, I reached for Declan and pulled him to me.   

Then, holding both of my crying sons against me, I slipped away.  

The silence was deafening.   

Inside the secure walls of the Toluca Battered Women's Shelter, I sat on a stiff cot, my back pressed against the cinder block wall behind me. Liam and Declan both slept to the left of me, their shared cot butted up next to mine.   

It had been three days since we'd escaped Colin and two days since we'd arrived at the shelter. In that time, the fear that he would find us had become paralyzing.    

I couldn't eat. Couldn't sleep.  

Half the time I couldn't even think.   

It was both exhausting and terrifying, and I wasn't sure how much more I could take. I was already walking a fine line between sanity and insanity before Colin was released from county lockup a day after he’d been arrested.   

Now that he was free, I was close to losing it.  

It didn't matter that I'd been granted a temporary restraining order against him, nor did it matter that we were in hiding. There wasn’t a single thing he wouldn't do to find us, and once he did, he would do anything to get us back.  

He would never stop looking. Never stop searching.  

Lost in the fear that gnawed at my gut, I didn’t see someone stop next to my cot. Nor did I hear them whisper my name. But I sure as hell felt their hand touch mine.  

My fight-or-flight instincts kicked in at the slight touch.  

Startled, I jerked my hand away and lifted my arm, prepared to strike out.   

Right or wrong, I was running on pure instinct and ready to attack whoever had touched me. Conditioned by years of abuse, my mind screamed that whoever was there meant me harm.   

Fortunately, that wasn't the case.   

When my eyes landed on Hope Peterson, one of the social workers who'd bent over backward to help the boys and me since our arrival at the shelter, I sighed in relief.   

"I'm so sorry," she said, her hazel eyes swimming with regret. "I didn't mean to scare you. I shouldn't have touched you. I know better. I just—"  

"It's okay," I said, interrupting her.  

I dropped my hand and relaxed against the wall.  

She blew out a relieved breath. "Can’t sleep?"   

I shook my head.   

"Yeah," she whispered. "I doubt I’d be able to either." Her gaze slid from me to Liam and Declan. A small smile graced her lips. "They’re so beautiful. Such handsome and polite little guys. You should be proud." Before I could reply, she continued, "But I know you are. I see the way your eyes light up when you look at them."   

She was right. I was proud of them.   

Immensely so.   

"Alright, Miss Clara," Hope said, stepping back. "I’ll let you get some rest, but if you need anything you let me know, okay?"  

When she started to walk away, I grabbed her hand, stopping her.  

"Wait," I said in a rush. "Don’t go. Not yet. I mean"—I swallowed—"You can stay."   

There was something about Hope's presence that comforted me. Out of the all the workers at the shelter, she was the one who I’d gravitated toward since day one.   

Goodness radiated from her like a beacon.  

 It was unmistakable, undeniable, and right then, I needed a whole lot of goodness in my life.  

Without hesitating, Hope sat down on the hard floor next to my cot. "I'll stay as long as you need me too. Do you want to talk? Or would you like me to keep watch while you get some sleep? I'm okay with either."   

 I wasn't sure what I wanted.  

My silence was proof of that.  

"Alright," she said, smiling. "How about I give you the 4-1-1 on all the shelter employees? I may be sweeter than a peach pie, but I can gossip as good as the next woman."   

An unexpected chuckle spilled from my lips. I had a feeling the only gossiping Hope did was the harmless kind. I’d only just met her, but I was certain she didn’t have a malicious bone in her body.   

There’s something special about her…  

"Okay," I replied, quietly. "Let’s hear it.”   

"Alright, so," she began, scooting closer. "I guess I should start with myself. One, I'm addicted to muffins, any kind really, though I prefer chocolate chip or blueberry. Two, I'm a vegetarian, and the thought of eating something that was once alive makes me want to puke."   

She shuddered, and I smiled.   

"Three"—she paused—"I'm in love with my brother's best friend." The smile on her face became forced. Even though she tried to hide it, I still saw the pain that danced in her eyes. "Unfortunately, he doesn't love me back, so I’m currently single."  

My heart clenched at her words.   

Seeing pain flash in her eyes unsettled me.  

"What's his name?"   

"Evan." She glanced over her shoulder toward the front of the shelter. "Evan Morgan."   

My mouth gaped. "The security guy?" I asked, stunned. "The big scary dude?”  

I'd met Evan, the shelter’s head of security the night of our arrival. One look at his taller than average height, muscular build, and stern face had terrified me. Since then, I’d avoided him the best I could.  

"That would be him," she said, picking at the tongue of her sneaker.  

"The man is a gigantic idiot then," I mumbled, rolling my eyes. "How could someone not love you? You’re beautiful and sweet and kind. Seriously, the man is either blind or just plain stupid."  

Despite the shock etched across her face, Hope beamed a smile my way.  

“What?” I asked, feeling a lightness come over me. “I'm serious here.”  

Eyes twinkling, Hope climbed to her knees and leaned forward. "Want to know something, Clara?" I nodded in reply. "I have a feeling you and I will become the best of friends."   

Turns out, she was right.