Page 56 of Dear Future Husband (The Dearly Written #1)

I doubled over in his arms with the sudden overwhelming weight. I bit down on my chest-cleaving sobs, as every single moment I cried, cowered and begged came tumbling through my battered brain.

“Shh,” he hushed, putting one hand in my hair and pressing my face painfully tight to his collarbone. “I’ve got you.”

Bile burned the back of my throat as I remembered why that smell was enough to ruin me. It was his aftershave. He used the strong-smelling liquid to mask the persistent smell of alcohol on his breath. But they only combined to create a horror of scent that haunted each one of my waking nightmares.

The tears trapped in my eyes finally escaped down my cheeks as I trembled in Rick’s—no, not Rick.

In Richard’s hold.

“Good girl,” he cooed, and I wanted to die. “That’s a good girl. I’m here now.”

My body had a mind of its own as I stood there, still as stone, with my hands fisted around the strap of the purse slung over my body.

Richard didn’t need a gun or knife to persuade me to keep still. The fear and instincts that took over my body did the job for him.

He pulled back from me, cupping my face in both his considerable hands. His eyes were bloodshot, he had a shadow of stubble along his jaw and his shirt was undone at the top. He wasn’t as put together as he had always prided himself on being.

And he was, without a doubt, drunk .

With hands holding either side of my face, pressing in on my temples, Richard stared at me. His drunken emotions overwhelmed his usually structured face.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been looking for you,” he choked out. “I saw on the news that you’d been in a coma but woke up. I thought I finally found you, your mom, and your brother. I wanted us to be a family again. So, I ran straight to San Francisco. I had to see you.”

He rocked forward and I couldn’t help but rock with him as his hands held my head in a vice-like grip.

“But when I got to your hospital, they said your mom and Liam were…were dead.” A strangled sob escaped him then, and I nearly buckled on my wobbly knees.

Stop, don’t think about it now.

Stay focused. Think about them later.

He sniffed, and his grasp on my head constricted tighter. Closing my eyes against the pain, I bit down on my lip.

“Then they wouldn’t let me see you, even though you’re mine. You’re mine, and they tried to keep you from me. It’s okay though, I paid someone at the hospital to tell me where you were. I followed you to that house. Where the boy and woman took care of you. Trey and Chelsea, right?”

His tone was airy as he stepped forward.

He pressed my back into the door of the Jeep, pinning me against the surface of the vehicle.

“I waited for you. I waited and waited for you. I watched you sneak out at night when you lived there. I would follow you on those long walks you would take, you know? I was always there, watching out for my girl.”

Pushing into me, Richard’s forehead fell against mine, nailing my head to the car door.

“I watched you. I had to, because you’re mine.

Then I followed you to college. I visited you every day at work, every day, but you didn’t recognize me,” he grounded out the last part, his hands fisting my hair and pushing me against the vehicle.

Hard enough to tear a whimper from my throat.

“How could you not remember me? You’re mine, and you didn’t remember me. ”

“I’m sorry,” I gasped out. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh shh, sweet girl, don’t cry, I’m here,” he sputtered out, his hands detangling themselves from my hair and his fingers combed through soothingly. “I’ve got you.”

Hold your breath, stay still, don’t move.

“It’s okay now because we found each other, and we can go home.”

Survival was my only thought as I remained motionless in the hands of this monster and my body knew how to survive. It was the same routine, the same ritual my limbs and heart had performed through the years to keep me safe.

His hands cupped my face, making me look him in the eyes as he brushed at the hair sticking to my sweat-damp forehead.

“You look so much like her,” he said as his thumb stroked my jaw. “My Stephanie.” He kissed my cheek as he whispered, “Let’s go home.”

Hold still, keep quiet, obey.

There were no other thoughts, no other choices.

I nodded.

Richard, holding my hand, led me to a secluded, dark corner of the parking lot, where a black vehicle lay in wait. I let him pull me into that dark corner. I knew what happened in dark corners. I knew the dangers that stalked the shadows, but I didn’t rebel against his lead.

As we approached the vehicle, he reached for another set of car keys from his pocket. His fingers fumbled with the clanking metal.

Coughing, I choked on my tears. I was going to die. Richard was going to get behind the wheel and I was going to die.

Finally , was the thought of a misplaced piece of me that came crawling from my subconscious. About time, was the bitter whisper of a forgotten girl who’d been beaten and abandoned.

No one will care once I’m gone. No one will remember .

I violently shook my head against the thoughts I once welcomed and fed. That’s when I saw red. Looking up, I could see Penny. She stood beneath a lone streetlight, face stricken, body still.

See , my heart screamed out to the ugly, festering words of my old, lonely soul; I’m not alone . I won’t be forgotten .

I turned to Richard. He was still jumbling with the keys, groaning as he tried to unlock the car.

I was going to die if I obeyed, if I went with him.

Then my eyes fell back on Penny. I may not survive this night if I go with him, but if he saw Penny and got his hands on her… I would wish I were dead.

Because Penny Howell was my family.

She took a step forward.

I shook my head adamantly, mouthing, “Don’t move.”

I was so scared she couldn’t see my silent warnings in the dark, but to my utter relief, she nodded and stayed put. I decided then. I knew what I had to do. To be done with this, this night, this man. I knew what I needed to do.

I needed to speak. For my family, I needed to speak.

“Richard,” I squeezed out. I didn’t think he heard me until his bloodshot, dark eyes rolled over to me. “I—I can drive.”

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 my bluff, 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.