Page 29 of Saving Ren

“Jo, just make sure Jay’s not driving about looking for me. Listen to me, Jo, make sure. . .”

“I will, I’ll turn off my headlights,” she cuts me off and says. “I need you to stay calm and listen. I’m just getting into my car, when I start it up the phone will cut out and the Bluetooth will kick in, but I’m still here, okay, I’m still with you. It’ll just drop out for a few seconds.” It takes about thirty seconds before I hear her again.

“Right, I’m back, and I’m on my way. It’ll take me five minutes, tops.”

There’s silence for a few long seconds, and I panic that the phone has cut out.

“Jo? Jo?”

“I’m here. I’m right here. Are you hurt? Do we need to call the police or an ambulance, Lauren?”

“No. No police. I can’t. I won’t do that to my boys.”

“I’ve got a feeling he might needprotectingfrom your boys when they find out what he’s been doing.”

I can’t even process an answer to that comment. The thought of my kids finding out about all of this hurts so much more than anything Jay could physically inflict.

“I can’t, I need time. I can’t let them see me like this. I need time before I tell them.”

“Are you hurt then? Has he marked you? Talk to me, Lauren.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. No police, no ambulance. I don’t want to go to the hospital; they’ll call the police. I need time, Jo, time to talk to the boys.”

“Okay, okay. We’ll figure it out. I’m here. My lights are off, and I’m just pulling into the car park. Where are you?”

“In the alley.”

I watch as her car pulls up parallel to where I’m hiding. I’m so overwhelmed with relief that I can’t move. As Jo climbs from her car and approaches, the noise that escapes me doesn’t even sound human.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you; I’ve got you.”

Jo squats down to my level, but I can’t bring myself to meet her eyes. I don’t want to see in them what she’s thinking of me right now.

“Oh, Jesus. Fucking hell. Fuck. Can you walk? We need to get you to a hospital. Can you stand up? Let’s get you into the car, don’t even bother trying to argue with me, you need to get to the hospital.”

“I can’t. I pissed myself, I can’t get in your car like this.” I sob between almost every word. As I stand upright, I’m hit with a wall of pain but can’t pinpoint the source. Everything hurts, from my head, to my heart, to my toenails and fingertips, I hurt.

“I couldn’t give a fuck if you were covered from head to toe in shit, you are getting in my car, and we’re going to the hospital.”

Chapter 10

Lauren

The lie comes so easily,and once I tell the first, despite the trauma, my injuries, the alcohol I’ve consumed, I manage to weave an elaborate and yet believable tale of a drunken girls’ night out, which results in me bouncing on the bed, losing my balance, taking a tumble and landing on the chest of drawers beside the bed. My fall resulting in bruising four ribs, dislocating my shoulder, a glued-up gash to my head, a bruised cheek and jaw, and various other bruises and contusions all over my body.

The nurse knew I was lying.

The doctor knew I was lying.

But I escaped the hospital without the police being called and am now settled in the front of Jo’s car with my ribs bandaged so tight I can barely breathe, my arm temporarily in a sling, a glued together head, lumps, bumps, bruises, and scratches to the entire rest of my body while wearing a hospital gown, my UGGs, and cardigan. My pissy sleep shorts were dumped in a surgical waste bin after I convinced the nurse I’d wet myself after laughing so hard at falling off the bed.

It’s eight in the morning when we pull up outside Jo’s, and my phone shows forty-seven missed calls and texts from Jay.

I have nothing to say to him. I don’t know that I ever will, but just in case, I’ve written a whole fucking speech in my head. One day I’ll be able to look him in the eye and convey the fear and terror he’s made me feel. Butthatday isn’tthisday, nor will it be any day soon.

Right now, I’m just grateful that his car isn’t parked at Jo’s with him inside waiting for my return. I’m exhausted. Mentally, physically, and emotionally drained. I feel hollow. I’d like to think I had no tears left in me to cry, but they’re there, right below the surface and ready to breach the barriers of my eyelids the instant I let my guard down.

Jo cuts the engine of her car, but she speaks before I can move to open the door.