Caught by Emma Louise

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The Past…

Mumbling the last few words of the lullaby, I gently place a milk-drunk Cassidy in her bassinet. She's growing so fast that she'll have outgrown it soon. Too soon. I can't afford to buy her a crib yet. Even if I could, there isn't exactly room for one here.

Looking around the dimly lit room, I try not to cry at how disgusting this place is. My eyes linger on the black mold that covers the wall above the sink, the wall that I can see from the air mattress on the uncarpeted floor. The room is little more than a large closet. The only thing that's separate is the shower that doesn't even work and the toilet that no matter how hard I scrub is never clean. The one and only window has a deep crack in it, and the rain that's currently lashing down outside is leaking through, making a puddle on the chipped window sill.

This place might be a hovel, but it's the best I can do right now. I have a backpack stuffed with a small amount of cash, but I need it to help me get as far away from him as I possibly can, so for now, this flea-ridden shithole is the best I can do.

Stripping out of my clothes, I step under the trickle of cold water that is supposed to pass for a shower. I’m in there for no more than a few minutes. I skip washing my hair because it’s so freaking cold tonight that I’ll probably end up sick again. I can’t afford to be sick, not when it’s just me and Cassidy. I need to be able to look after her.

As I’m pulling on multiple layers of clothes to protect myself from the draft that floods in from the window, I let my thoughts veer back to just a few weeks ago, when I stood outside of the hospital that day. With Cassidy strapped to my chest and a backpack filled with not a lot of stuff, staring at Jimmy as he walked right toward us. The choking fear that gripped me. The crushing acceptance that hit me like a tsunami. The knowledge that this time he really was going to kill me for trying to escape.

Until a real life angel pulled me out of his way. Naomi, the nurse that had looked at me with so much pity. She followed us downstairs just in time and dragged me to her car right when I thought it was too late. She pushed me into the backseat of her car and drove me to her apartment.

Three days I stayed there, too frightened to move out of her guest bedroom.

Three days, waiting for Jimmy to find me, sure that every little sound around me was him.

I stayed until the day I saw my picture in the paper, listed as a missing person. When Naomi came back from her shift at the hospital and told me the police had been to question her about me, I went into a blind panic. She pushed an envelope of cash into my hand and a bus ticket to the other side of the country. I didn't think twice before accepting both. It wasn’t until two hours into the bus ride that I opened the envelope and found a fake ID and various other items of paperwork. It was everything I needed to start over and to not be found. I must have stared at that card for hours. Darcey Walker. My first name, but a new last one, along with a new birthdate. Same for Cassidy. That wasn't the name we agreed on. Jimmy insisted on naming her Emily after his mom, a name I hated. That didn’t matter anymore because we were free. I’d done it. I’d gotten free, and I was going to give my baby girl the life I never had, one where she would be free too. I was going to do whatever it took to make sure she never felt the suffocation that came from men like my dad, like her dad.

My baby was going to have the life I never had.

Shaking myself out of those thoughts, I finish getting ready for bed. It’s early, but I can’t afford a TV here, and I’ve been too scared to go out much to find a used bookstore, so there isn’t much else for me to do. Besides, I’m bone tired. Sleep doesn’t come easy for me anymore. I’m always on alert, knowing that it will only take one wrong step and the life I’m determined to get for us will be snatched away from me.

Making sure that Cass is wrapped up tightly, the knitted blankets covering all but her face, I lay back on the mattress, pulling the thin blanket over my legs. I have to pull the sleeves of the winter coat I'm wearing down over my hands to keep the cold air from getting to them. I have no pillow to help ease the ache in my neck, but I'm used to it, and soon enough the rain beating down lulls me into fitful sleep.

I don't dream. I never do.

I learned a long time ago that dreams are not for me. They are for people who want things out of life, people who have hopes and ambitions that are more than just making it through life one day at a time. I don't dream, but something pulls me out of my light sleep. Laying still, I wait for Cassidy to cry, sure it must have been her moving that has me awake. She's almost eight-weeks-old, and it's only recently that she's been sleeping mostly through the night. I let the breath I've been holding out slowly as the seconds tick by without there being any noise from the baby. I can't shift the feeling of unease that sits heavily on me, more so than it usually does.

I close my eyes, hoping the exhaustion will carry me back to sleep, but I hear it again. A slow creak, like something or someone is shifting from one foot to the other. I've laid awake on this floor, night after night for weeks now. I know the sounds this room makes. I know when my neighbours are home, when they move around. I know the groan that the pipes make when the water is turned on upstairs. I also know that the creaking I just heard is the same one I hear every time I walk into this room. There’s someone there. Fear beats a frantic rhythm inside my chest as the urge to grab Cassidy and run screams in my head.

I just hope that whoever is making that sound is standing right outside that door and not inside of it.

No, not whoever. It’s him. I know it. My body knows it. It’s just taking my brain too long to keep up with what’s going on here.

Forcing my breathing to stay as even as possible, I try to quietly fumble around for the small knife I keep on the floor next to my head.

It isn't there. My heart hammers against my chest as I stretch a few inches further, praying that I've just missed it, but my fingers find nothing but air.

I hear the swish of the blade being opened at the same time as the voice from the doorway finally speaks. "You lose something, sweetheart?"

I haven't been awake long enough for my eyes to adjust to the dark, but thankfully the curtain-less window lets weak light from the nearby streetlamp filter in. The door is in shadow, so I can't see him. But I don't need to; I already know he's finally found me.

He moves before my brain can tell me what to do, but this time I’m ready for him. Scrambling back from the bed, I kick my foot out, hoping it lands somewhere that can do some damage. I hear a soft grunt as I make contact, but it’s soon obvious that I haven’t hurt him because I’m tackled to the mattress.

I fight with everything I have, kicking and scratching in a blind panic. I fight until my lungs are on fire, but it isn't enough. All too soon, Jimmy has me pinned to the floor, his thick thighs across mine, both my hands in one of his above my head, and his forearm pinning me to the floor by my throat.

“You really thought I wouldn’t find you?” He grins at me, his ghoulish face now just inches from mine. “I told you I’d never let you go, Darce. You’re mine, and you always will be.” The room spins thanks to the lack of oxygen, and my vision blurs as dark spots dance across my eyes. I try once again to buck him off me, twisting myself from right to left in an inane attempt to get him off me, but it’s pointless. “Keep fighting, sweetheart. That shit turns me on,” he groans, pushing his hips against me so that I can feel the ridge of his erection against my stomach. Bile threatens to choke me as I realize what he’s about to do to me. I go still at his words, my only movements from the jerking of my chest as I struggle to sob and breathe at the same time. “Maybe that’s what you need to remind you who you belong to, huh?”

I suck in much-needed breath as he takes his arm away from my throat, bringing his hand down, that I can now see holds my knife, so that the blade trails along my wet cheek. The cold metal feels soft against my skin, but he could kill me with it in the blink of an eye if he wanted to.

“You need to be quiet, sweetheart,” he murmurs softly when I whimper beneath him. “You don’t want the baby to be awake for what I’m about to do to you.” His threat has ice cold fear dripping down my spine because we both know that he’s won. He knows I’ll never do anything to hurt my baby. I’ll lie here in the dirt and take what he has to give me, and when he’s done, I’ll pack our things, and he’ll take us back to the hell that he calls home.

Knowing it’s pointless to fight now, I lay there as he yanks down the zip of my thick jacket. Leaning his weight back onto my legs, Jimmy takes the knife and cuts down the center of my sweatshirt.

I don’t move as he repeats this layer by layer until the ice cold blade touches the skin under my bra strap. That’s when I flinch. Screwing my eyes closed, I lay there and beg my mind to go to a better place, anywhere but here in this room. A place where Cassidy and I are finally free. A place where monsters don’t lurk around every corner. I imagine her growing up, what kind of little girl she’s going to be. Will she be full of life and laughter? How can she be living with him?

I feel the zipper of my jeans being pulled as my mind is filled with images of a broken child. A scared and lonely little girl who is too scared to play because her father is always angry at her. Too scared to speak or even smile because she’s had to live with seeing how evil the world can be first-hand.

The sound of my blood thundering through my veins fills my head as I see the future that we’re guaranteed to have if I can’t get away from my husband. My heart is beating out of my chest as picture after picture of the future flies through my head. I’m so lost to these thoughts that I’m caught off guard when I feel Jimmy push his thighs in between mine. The rough denim of his jeans scraping the soft skin there and the cold of his open belt buckle snap me back to reality.

I don’t have time to bite back the sharp cry of pain that falls from my lips as he forces his hand in between us and roughly pushes inside of my body. My head snaps to the side from the force of the blow he lands across my cheek. “I told you to shut the fuck up,” he barks, spittle flying from his mouth and landing on my face. It’s too late, though. The sound has woken up Cassidy. I hear the familiar sniffle as she works herself up to let out her usual squawking cries. Without letting up his painful assault, Jimmy looks toward the bassinet. The look of pure evil on his face steals the very last of the air from my lungs.

Something inside me snaps when I see the unmasked malevolence that lurks inside of the one man who should be protecting us. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, I push up with all my might and make a grab for the knife. Rage and desperation bubble together inside me, giving me the strength I so desperately need.

I don’t manage to get it out of his grip, but I do manage to get a decent hold on it with both hands, pushing it away from me. He fights back, but he hasn’t realized that I’m not the same scared girl he knew before.

I’m a mother now.

I have a daughter to fight for.

Viciously twisting my body to the side, I manage to bring my knee up enough to catch Jimmy in the balls. His body jerks at the contact, and that’s all it takes for him to stop trying to force the knife into me. Instead, it’s me who pushes this time. The knife seems to effortlessly slide into the skin of his neck, and the lack of resistance surprises me.

Time stands still for me as Jimmy stares down at me, panic etched into a face that I once thought I loved. It feels like hours pass, but it must only be seconds before I watch the fight drain out of his eyes. He slumps forward, his dead weight once again caging me into the floor, and the warmth of his blood coats my bare skin.

Cassidy’s cries pierce the mental fog, and I once again scramble to my feet, running to pick her up from her bassinet. With the dregs of strength I have left, I clutch my reason for living tightly to my chest, before slowly making my way to my phone to call 911. All the while never taking my eyes off the lifeless monster that is bleeding out on my bed.