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Healing His Heart

Page 44

by Alex J. Adams

I dressed quickly, finding my shoes. “Do you mind taking me home?”

“A man always escorts his date home. I’ll drop you at the end of the road like I usually do. Is that okay.”

“That would be good. How about we get together tomorrow or the day after if you like.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He pulled me into him and covered my mouth with his, and if I hadn’t promised to go home to Logan, I’d have spent it here with Mac doing just this.

We held hands the entirety of the journey, and when we reached the end of my road, we spent another couple of minutes kissing.

“I should go.” I laughed as he held onto me, but we eventually parted ways with promises to see each other soon.

I touched my hair, now loose from its bun. No doubt my lips were red and puffy from his kisses, and I wasn’t mad about that, but I tidied myself up and walked back to the house.

All was quiet. Even Logan was nowhere to be found. Maybe everyone had gone out.

I checked everywhere but there was no one about. I yawned and trudged upstairs to my room. I undressed and inspected the fading bruises on my body. How long had it been since Brian had done this? If I couldn’t remember, then it was long enough. Maybe we were turning a corner.

Perhaps he’d decided I wasn’t worth his time.

I crawled into bed, noting the time. It was barely ten o’clock. Where was everyone? To be honest, I didn’t care. For once, the house was quiet. I closed my eyes and drifted to sleep.

My door banging open woke me with a start. Brian loomed in the doorway, his eyes wild, fists bunched.

What the fuck was going on? But before I could defend myself, he grabbed me by the hair and yanked me out of bed.

I cowered beneath him, rolling myself into a ball. It was all I could do to protect my head and listen to the sickening thuds as each punch landed.

I was never getting out of this alive unless I did something about it, but each time I tried to fight back, he kicked me again. I yelped in pain as each blow landed.

An agonising punch landed in my back, stealing my breath. I cried out, pleading for him to stop, but he carried on.

Where the hell were Mum and Logan? Why weren’t they coming to help me?

How was I going to get out of this? Knowing this could be my last chance at escape, I grabbed my phone from the side table and crawled onto the landing, all the while listening to him muttering, his words mostly incoherent.

If and when he stopped, I’d need to call for help. He wouldn’t do it for me, and I knew he would either kill me or leave me for dead.

A sense of hope filled me as the punches stopped, and I rolled onto my back, desperate to see what he was doing.

Shock turned to horror as I watched him reach for his belt, the big buckle heavy in his hand. If he hit me with that, it’d be game over. It was now or never.

I jumped to my feet, pushed past him, and scrambled down the stairs. I grabbed a jacket off the bannister and ran through the house. I had to get out of there before he caught up to me.

I burst through the front door into the chilly morning, not having a clue what time it was. I ran for all I was worth, my arms and legs pumping through the pain.

I had one destination in mind, and five minutes later, I banged on Gran’s door.

I slumped against the door, my breaths ragged. It seemed like an age before she answered, and my chest burned from exhaustion. Fuck knows what else he’d done to me, but it became harder to breathe. Had he punctured a lung?

I knocked again, knowing it’d take a while for her to reach it, but the moment the door opened, I fell through it onto the hall floor.

I was safe, at least for the time being.

“Frankie? Is that you?” she asked and reached down to touch me.

Was I so unrecognisable? Had he damaged me that much?

“Please help me. He’s going to kill me.”