Page 136 of Dear Future Husband

His brows furrowed. “I want to drive.”

It took everything in me to take a step forward, to extend my hand out and place it comfortingly on his forearm. So close to the keys and yet so far from peace.

“I know,” I whispered. “But I can drive, l-let you rest.”

His drooping eyes continued to scowl holes into mybluff, and I was so sure he would ignore my request. I nearly buckled over with grateful sobs when the metal of his keys bit into my awaiting palm.

“Okay,” he uttered, and I helped him into the passenger seat. I didn’t let myself look at Penny until I had the passenger door closed. I rounded the front of the vehicle to the driver’s side.

She looked ready to race for me. Her phone was to her ear as she mouthed to me, “Don’t go.”

I didn’t respond until I threw the driver’s side door open. I took only a moment to admire my sweet friend from afar. The girl who befriended me, invited me in and loved me.

“I love you,” I silently mouthed back. Then I got into the car and sped down the road.

40 Fight, May

Maybelle

We’d only been speeding on the spacious, dark roads for a few minutes when Richard’s hand reached over the middle console and gripped my knee. “Take the freeway.”

I pressed down on the gas pedal.

His grip tightened. “Go faster.”

The acceleration jolted us forward.

“Damn it,” he bellowed, and I flinched. “Where are you going? You were supposed to go right!”

“I’m sorry,” I choked out. “I got lost.”

It was easy to fall back into that small place. To obey and keep quiet. Especially now, as I sped past rows of streetlights that exuded a pale glow in the night.

I knew what had to be done. Richard wasn’t too drunk to know I was going the wrong way. I was supposed to take a right. Instead, I continued straight. As his hold on my leg screwed up into my skin, I yelped from the pain he tore from me.

“You never could do anything right.”

The tears were no longer droplets dripping down my face, but a steady, defeated stream. Then his hand was in my hair.

“Useless,” he gritted out.

I didn’t listen to his vicious ramblings. I was too focused on the plan I decided on back in the parking lot.

My heart was racing, my limbs were trembling. I was so close. Almost there, just a couple more miles. Only a few more minutes until I reached our final destination.

There was a bridge I noted on mine and Penny’s drive to the store. A bridge with easily broken guard rails by the looks of already caused damage, and a steep fall to dark waters.

The finish line was so close. I was so close to putting an end to the pain, to the fear, to the hellish monster that tortured me and my family for far too long.

I rolled the car to a stop at a red light and as we halted, Richard’s fingers tangled into my hair, shaking my head by the roots.

Mentally, I ran away.

I retreated to a safe place in my subconscious, imagining I was in the safest place I found in my short, painful life. But it wasn’t the beach I opened my mind’s eye to.

I was with Trey. He was the one sitting next to me in the car, not Richard. I wasn’t in pain as my imaginary Trey used his thumb to delicately stroke the tears from my face.

“I’m here, May,” he whispered, and he was.