Don't Turn Back (Coming Home Book 1) (45 page)

My stomach alerts me that it’s nearing time to eat, so I drive back into town and pull into a fast food place. I decide to go inside to eat rather than get it to go, knowing this will also pass the time. I know I’m risking being seen by someone, but really, who is going to see me, then go back to tell Jennifer?

I almost answer my own question before I have finished the thought. I look up just as Rebecca picks up her order from the counter. She turns around and nearly walks right into me.
You’ve got to be kidding me
.

“What are you doing here?” She asks. “Shouldn’t you be working?”

I’m careful with how much I say to her without revealing the truth. “I’m, uh, just on a break. Thought I would grab a quick bite.”

“Well that’s funny. You drove all the way over here from the mall just to get something to eat? Aren’t there lots of choices to eat there? There’s a whole food court.”

I realize I need to come up with an explanation, quick.

I don’t bother looking at her, but take another bite of my burger. “Yeah, but I needed to pay a bill while I’m out.”

“Speaking of bills, when do you think you’ll have your last payment for our arrangement?” Just when I think I’ve convinced her, she goes and asks me a question like this.

“As soon as I get my final check, I’ll be able to settle up with you.”
Oh shit. Did I really just let that slip?
I suddenly realize the gravity of what I’ve just said.

She heard the words too, loud and clear. “What do you mean, final check?”

I can’t hide the truth forever. Rather than dig my hole deeper, I tell her about losing my job, yet again. “I’m already looking for something else.” I toss in, hoping to sound optimistic.

“Brian, you are kidding me, right? Surely you didn’t get fired again.” Her words sting like venom from a snake bite. “What does Jennifer think about it? I bet she’s not too happy.”

“I haven’t told her yet.” I might as well hold nothing back at this point.

“You,
what
? How could you not tell her! You idiot! You think not telling her is the right thing to do?” Rebecca is raising her voice, and I start to see other people looking over to us.

“I’ve been waiting for the right opportunity.”

“Oh, Jesus, Brian. You are an even bigger idiot than what I first thought. I can’t believe my best friend still tolerates you.” With that, she storms from the restaurant, not looking back at me.

Just great!
I wonder how long I have now before Jennifer finds out. I know it’s just a matter of time before Rebecca calls her.

I’ve enjoyed a nice, quiet afternoon alone at my apartment. I took a nap earlier and now I feel refreshed. I even made a trip down to the grocery store to grab something for supper tonight. I decided to make it easy on myself, so I picked up a frozen lasagna and garlic bread. You can’t go wrong there. It would be nice to be able to enjoy a glass of wine tonight with the meal, but drinking any alcohol is strictly forbidden until after the baby is born. I decide a glass of non-alcoholic sparkling wine will suffice.

Brian comes home a little earlier than I expect him to, but I figure with the new management, things must be working out pretty well at the shoe store. He hasn’t said much at all about it though, which seems rather odd.

I check on the lasagna and pour us both a glass of the sparkling beverage. I walk to the bedroom and pass the glass to him. He’s changing from his work clothes into a pair of gym shorts and t-shirt. I notice his muscular build and think how nice it is to have everything slowly returning back to normal.

“How was your day?” I ask as he takes the glass from my hand.

“Cute wine glasses.” He says, avoiding my question. “Is there some special occasion?”

“Just a quiet evening alone with my husband.”

“It sure smells good. I can’t wait for supper to be ready.”

I decide to ask again, since he failed to answer the first time. “Did everything go okay at work today? You haven’t mentioned anything about your new manager.”

I notice a strange expression come over his face. His eyes become cold, and I swear, I must have hit a nerve.

“She called you, didn’t she?” He bursts out, practically yelling at me again.

“What are you talking about?” He’s starting to scare me all of a sudden. I’m almost afraid to speak.

“Rebecca. She just couldn’t wait to call you.” I remember this look on his face as the same look he had during our previous argument.
Why is he getting so worked up about Rebecca?

“I have not-” I’m not able to get my words out before he slams the wine glass across the room. It hits the bedroom wall and shatters, liquid and glass spraying everywhere.

I’m suddenly scared to death. I drop my glass on the floor, my hands trembling so badly I’m not able to hold it any longer. I ease backwards from the bedroom, making my way to the kitchen. I want to get out of the apartment, away from this crazy person, before it gets any worse

“Brian, you’re scaring me.” I try to plead with him.

“I guess now you know. Your stupid bitch friend had to go and tell you I got fired again, didn’t she?” I hope to God the neighbors above me are home and can hear all the screaming down below.

“I’ve not talked to her. What are you talking about?” I realize whatever he’s talking about, he’s exposed himself, since the last time I spoke with Rebecca was yesterday.

“I got fired again. I lost my fucking job, again!” He’s screaming so loud that his face is blood red.

I’m afraid to say anything to him, for fear it may be the wrong thing, sending him into more of a rage. I simply stare at him, tears streaming down my face. I’m shaking like a leaf in the wind.

I decide to take the sympathetic approach with him. “I’m sorry, Brian. I had no idea.”

“Sorry. That’s all you can fuckin’ say, is you’re sorry?” I realize I made the wrong choice of words.

Brian walks right up to my face, and I feel his hot breath on my wet cheeks. I want to leave, run. He corners me in the kitchen, and I have no choice but to listen to him. I silently pray he settles down and comes to terms with himself. He needs to control his anger.

This side of him perfectly shows why he has had previous issues with family and past relationships. No one deserves to be treated this way. My parents never argued or screamed at each other, and I don’t deserve this either.

“Can I do anything to help?” I speak, the words barely above a whisper.

“You can tell your friend to mind her own damn business. She needs to stay out of our lives!”

“Brian, I swear to you, she didn’t’ say anything.” I’m not sure if defending Rebecca, even though she hasn’t told me anything on the matter, is the right thing to say to him, but it’s all I’ve got.

“Right! You think I believe that? You’re fucking friend will do anything to point out my mistakes, and I’ve had enough of her shit.” He reaches for the glass bottle of sparkling juice that’s on the counter, and I cringe, thinking he’s about to hit me with it. I drop down to my knees hoping to protect my stomach and avoid the blow, but I see he has different intentions. He uses every bit of strength in his arm and throws the bottle towards the kitchen sink.

Pieces of broken glass shatter across the room. I turn my head to avoid any of the pieces hitting me, but it’s too late. I feel the stinging sensation instantaneously and reach to touch my face. Just below my eye, my fingers are coated in the blood that now drips from my face. I need to grab a towel, but I’m too scared to move from my crouched position.

Brian notices my injury and steps towards me. I suddenly gain courage and scream out. “NO! Don’t you come near me!”

“Babe, you’re hurt.”

“I said don’t come near me, Brian!”

“Let me help you.” He pleads as the blood continues to pool in my hand.

I apply pressure to my cheek, not sure if it’s doing any good or not. I’m almost scared to look in the mirror. “Get away from me.” I say between clenched teeth.

“Fine, bitch. But you better not tell anyone I did this to you. You hear me? You better keep this to yourself.” I wonder if I had allowed him to help me would he have calmed down? I don’t know, but right now, I just want him gone. I want him out of my life, this time for good.

He starts to back away then turns to me. “You know I love you don’t you?”

I simply stare at him, nothing to say. He is totally messed up. How can someone go from being angry one minute, to telling me he loves me the next? He’s toyed with my emotions for the last time.

“Get the hell away from me, Brian!!”

He grabs his jacket from the chair and runs out the front door, leaving it wide open. The cool breeze only makes me tremble more. I stand up from my spot in the corner, almost afraid to move for fear he’s going to run back inside again. I’m glad he’s gone, but now I worry how long will he stay away this time.

I shut the door and lock it immediately. I want to call Rebecca, but I know she’s working.
Is this enough of an emergency for her to leave the hotel?
It’s obvious she knows more about what’s happened with Brian than she has mentioned. I walk to the bathroom and run the water until it’s warm. I use a washcloth to wipe at the blood that now covers the side of my face. While the bleeding seems to have stopped, I’m gentle with wiping so I don’t open the wound back up. Even though I bled a rather large amount, I think it’s more of a surface cut. Judging from the amount of blood loss, and my stained shirt, you would think the cut was more serious.

I think again about calling Rebecca. I grab my phone and hold it tightly in my hand. I can’t bring myself to make the call. I simply can’t. I stare blankly at the phone. I can’t believe Brian hasn’t called or texted my phone yet, pleading for my forgiveness. Once again I press the button to turn it on and see I have a missed text.

Without thinking, I click on the message and relief washes over me as I see the text is, after all, not from Brian, but from Todd.

Todd:
 
Thinking about you earlier. Hope you are okay. Text me tonight if you can chat.

I look at the time the message came through. Roughly an hour ago.
Did Todd sense something was wrong?

I walk around my bedroom and I’m startled by the ding of the stove alerting me that the lasagna is ready. I had completely forgotten about supper. I go to the kitchen and remove the lasagna from the oven. There is no way I can eat anything right now.

I come to the conclusion that something has to be done before I am seriously injured. I can’t keep living this way.

I go to the hall closet and remove a small overnight bag from the top shelf. I start grabbing things from my closet and dresser drawers. I can’t take everything, but I need a few things to get me where I’m going. I fill a smaller bag with toiletry items and sit everything down on the floor, just inside the door. I fumble around in the kitchen, pulling out drawers, grabbing several things I feel are important and stuff them in my purse.

I stand at the doorway, arms loaded down, and look back at my apartment. I used to love this place. I felt safe, happy here. Now, I’m not sure what to feel anymore.
Used. Insecure. Stupid
. Those are the first words that come to mind. I turn off the light and shut the door behind me. I walk to the car and drop my bags in the backseat. Backing the car out, I don’t turn back to look at my apartment. I do the only thing I feel is safe for me and my baby. I drive away into the night, in search of a better place.