The Trophy Wife by Evie Baxter
Thirty-Two
Iwas no longer afraid of this man. I despised him, every last cell of his body. He could hurt me. He could kill me. But I wasn’t afraid. I was sad. The idea that I may never see Isla’s gorgeous little face again was heart breaking. Never be held in Bastian’s arms again? Unimaginable.
But this bastard of a man who had almost ruined my life, who beat me, and raped me, and made my life a living hell? I was filled with rage for what he had done now. He had hurt Isla. She was mine. Not his. She had nothing to do with him. If I could deny his biological part in her making I would.
“You’ll never get away with this,” I spat out at Robert. He was driving with reckless abandon, barely keeping control of the car.
“Shut up!” he roared at me. “Shut the fuck up, you stupid, stupid bitch. This is all your fault, ruining my life, destroying my reputation.”
“You did that yourself, by being a lying, thieving idiot.” I knew he would hurt me. I didn’t care anymore. I wasn’t holding any of my anger in. Three and a half years of cowering to him had been more than enough.
“I said, shut the fuck up!” He swung his left arm out, the revolver still grasped in it and smacked me in the face.
Shit, that hurt! I’d forgotten how much it hurt to be hit, dammit. Especially with the handle of the revolver added into the equation. Where had he got himself a gun? I thought handguns were illegal in the U.K. But adrenaline was flooding my veins and foolish bravery filling my heart. Blood dripped down my chin from where he had split my lip and I ignored it.
“Aren’t you the big strong man, hitting someone physically weaker than you. Wouldn’t your mother be proud,” I sneered, winding him up even more.
“What is wrong with you? Do you want to die?” He glared over at me a moment too long as he muttered fucking bitch and the tyres of the car left the road on the passenger side, and he almost lost control.
“If it’s a choice of living with you or death I know which I’d choose.” If I was going to die, I was going to die telling him just what I thought of him. All the many thoughts that fear of retribution had kept me from speaking throughout our marriage.
“Then you’ll be happy how this day turns out for you then, you stupid cunt,” he snarled.
Ugh!I hated that word.
“You took everything away from me. My daughter. My son, because he took your side when you left me. My business. My standing in the community. Now I’m going to take everything away from you. All I wanted from you was for you to love me! Was that too much to ask?” He was roaring at me now. Spittle flying from his mouth, eyes crazed.
“Love you?” My eyes flew to the road as he took a turn far too fast, and it felt like some of the wheels lifted from the tarmac briefly. “You raped me!"
“You were a little cock tease and wanted it.”
The deluded maniac. “I was a virgin and dating your son, for God’s sake!”
“He wasn’t man enough for you.”
If I was anywhere but in this car with a madman, I would have laughed. This man had serious psychological issues, not that I hadn’t been aware of that already, but seriously!
“I married you. Made you a respectable woman. Gave you everything.”
There was no arguing with him. He was living in an alternative universe. I clung to the oh shit handle as he took another turn dangerously. We were still on the backroads, but I knew this route, and we were about to join a much busier A road. I was going to die in a car with the man I most despised in the world. But if that meant that me coming with him saved Isla from such a fate than I would accept my choice to swap places with her unreservedly.
“There’s a helicopter over us. Why’s it flying so low?” Robert was getting more and more agitated.
“Um, I’m guessing because it’s a police helicopter.” I could hear the whomp whomp whomp of the rotors beating above us. And it wasn’t so low, but it was very obviously tracking us.
Robert let out an inarticulate snarl of rage. “I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m just taking my wife back where she belongs!”
I chose not to respond. There was no reasoning with him. As the car careened down the road, I pulled my seatbelt more firmly about me and prayed that I would see Isla and Bastian again.
With a squeal of tires, Robert threw the car out onto the busier road without slowing to see if there was any oncoming traffic. I closed my eyes, braced for impact, but none came. Tentatively opening one eye, I looked at the road ahead, and it was empty.
That wasn’t right. There was a reason there was no traffic and I rather hoped that reason was us.
Sure enough, a black and white police car appeared from a side road and took up position behind us. Then another one, appeared and another. They didn’t do anything to try and overtake us, just kept pace, their lights flashing ominously.
“Tell them to go away!” There was panic in Robert’s voice now. As if a little bit of sanity was creeping back in and he was realising the mess he was in.
“How?” I shouted at him. I wasn’t feeling so calm myself, despite the presence of the police.
“Don’t be stupid! Think of something!”
I stared at him in disbelief. I wasn’t digging him out of this hole. I wanted to survive this day, and I rather hoped the police were going to do something to aid that.
“There’s more of them!” I looked forward at three more police cars driving abreast of each other, effectively blocking the road. A side road ahead showed another black and white parked, blocking the exit. Hope bloomed in my heart.
The cars ahead of us started slowing, trying to force Robert to do the same. His face was florid with anger and he was muttering unintelligible gibberish to himself.
“You have to slow down, Robert,” I told him as he gained on the cars in front.
“I don’t have to do anything. I’m Robert Alder and I decide what happens.”
Arrogant to the end it seemed.
Without warning, Robert hauled the steering wheel to the right, and we barrelled off the road and into a field, the car bouncing all over the place. I let out a little shriek, unable to help myself, my body being thrown about despite the seatbelt I was wearing. Robert’s elbow caught my side in a painful jab, and it was then I realised he wasn’t wearing his seatbelt.
“Robert, slow down,” I pleaded with him. He was too busy exulting in his superior intelligence to reply to me. He chose to talk to himself rather than me.
“I’ll show them. Think they can stop me. Stupid fuckers. There’s just a field between me and that road over there.” His eyes were crazed, and he was grinning to himself now.
I swung my head and looked back over to the main road. The police were in motion, headed for the side road, the same as us. Robert couldn’t get out of this, no matter how clever he thought he was. I yelped as the car did a particularly hard jounce and my body ricocheted into the door.
“I’m beating them!” Robert chortled to himself.
Then the car hit the ditch that came lay between us and the road. An obstacle he hadn’t foreseen. Nor had I. The last thing I remember was the front end of the car crunching into the far side of the ditch and everything went black.