Chapter 1
Runaway
Tara
Ittookthreeattemptsto pry the little white pill from its package. My hands were shaking too much, struggling to hold my saving grace. It slipped from my grasp, skittering in a wide circle around the porcelain.
“Shit!” I scrambled to catch it before it hit the drain. “No, please no!”
My palm clapped over it. The pill shattered. I gathered the shards with my fingernail, dropping each one into my mouth and swallowing dryly. Desperation almost led me to lick the sink, just in case I missed some. In case it wouldn’t be effective.
Effective. It was such a clinical word. It was sick, how detached I was from this.
More like dissociated, I reminded myself.
Until tonight I wasn’t sure I believed in this—preventing a pregnancy after the fact. If it was meant to be, let it be. Don’t interfere with fate. Or God, or whoever was dealing the cards.
I wasn’t actually pregnant. Logically, I knew that. I was too close to my period to be fertile. Still, the morning after pill wasworth the cash meant for my getaway fund. The last thing I needed was to be permanently tied to that asshole by a baby.
I swallowed down bile, hurrying back into the bedroom. The zipper on the suitcase felt too loud, and I started filling it with frantic, jerky motions. The chances of him walking in on me were astronomically low. By this time of night, Jay would retreat to his office, probably sleeping on the couch unless he was taking one of his many mysterious phone calls.
Huge red flags that should have made me hit the brakes six months ago, when this disaster of a relationship started.
I always chalked it up to his weird discomfort with affection. Everyone had their quirks and I figured with time I could work my way into his bubble. That was the very first mistake I made, the one that landed me here.
I wanted to see the best in him. I layered that ideal version over the real him. Blinded myself to what he actually was.
Even now, my brain was coming to his defense, reminding me that he wasn’t this bad in the beginning.
“Not so bad” wasn’t the same as good.
At best, I felt used. At worst? Violated. The guy either had some freaky breeding kink he never told me about or this whole time I was a means to an end. The incubator for his heir.
Heir! What kind of person even used that archaic freaking word?
A shudder ran down my spine. How could I care about someone enough to move into his home, only to find myself revolted at the thought of him? I couldn’t reconcile it.
I was one ofthosewomen now.
Shame followed that thought. Never, ever blame the victim. But also don’t be the victim. I wouldn’t be the woman that stayed.
Men like Jay were clever. They found little ways to trap you. Wove a web around you that was so intricate you didn’t realizeyou were stuck until you couldn’t move an inch without feeling it tug you back.
Tonight, I would take out my sewing scissors and cut myself free.
I was done.
Forget this house, forget the expensive clothes Jay bought for me, forget all of it. What didn’t fit in this suitcase was dead to me. I’d been down this road before—alone in the world with nothing but a bag of my most treasured possessions—and I survived.
Besides, I’d already sold more than half of the clothes, shoes, and handbags right under Jay’s nose. Take that, asshole.
That ever-present voice in my head tried to soothe me.At least he doesn’t hit you. Look at this house. Look at these expensive things. Other women would trade anything to be in your place.
Other women didn’t know the real Jay. I was starting to think that maybe I didn’t either.
Scratch that. I definitely didn’t. There was more under the surface, darkness lurking that I pretended I couldn’t see. And these expensive things? In my heart of hearts, I knew what kind of money paid for them. Not the kind earned by an honest businessman.
Jay wasn’t in his office when I tiptoed from the bedroom to check.