Page 73

January 15th, 1993

“I’ll draw him down here,” he said, and my stomach dropped instantly.

I shook my head, tears pricking the backs of my eyes. “Jackson, no,” I whispered, tightening my grip on the spoon. “That’s too dangerous, your back is still bleeding."

“It’s the only way to get him away from you,” he continued, opening his mouth for the hot soup. I watched as he swallowed it, feeling my heart settle in my throat. “If he’s down here with me, he’s not watching you. He’s not thinking about you. That’s your window.”

I shook my head quickly now, panic creeping in. “He-he’ll hurt you. You don’t know what he’ll do if he thinks you’re tricking him. T-there has to be another way,” I whispered, placing the bowl on the ground beside me. The liquid sloshed over the edges as my hands trembled.

“Evie, look at me.” I sniffled and looked into his hazel eyes. “You said he keeps the keys in the bedroom, right?” he asked.

I nodded. “I…yes.”

“Then that’s where you’ll go. I'll make enough noise that he comes running, while you go straight there.” He made it sound so simple and…easy. But Monday was fast approaching, and I was terrified that we were making a mistake. “Jackson…”

“Baby,” he murmured. “I’m not doing this to be reckless,” he said.

Tears blurred my vision. “I know, I-I know. But you’re asking me to leave you alone with him.”

“I’m asking you to get us out,” he corrected, his eyes softening when I shook my head weakly.

“I don’t like this.”

“Neither do I,” he murmured, glancing up at the wood beams when they creaked. “But we don’t have a better option.” He shifted slightly closer, ignoring the chain as it pulled tight. “Tomorrow,” he said. “You do what you usually do so he thinks everything’s normal. Okay? Then I start.”

My fingers curled into my dress. “And if he comes back up?”

“He won’t,” Jackson said. “Trust me, Evie. He’ll stay down here. He’ll want control of the situation. But I just need you to be fast,” he added quietly. “In and out. Grab the keys and go.”

My breathing was uneven now. “And if I can’t find them?”

His jaw tightened for a second. “You will.”

“But if I don’t⁠—”

“Evie.” His voice softened again. “You will.” I nodded, even though fear clawed at my throat as I leaned in, resting against his chest. “Hey,” he said, leaning his forehead lightly against mine. “You trust me?”

My answer came without hesitation. “Yes.”

“Then trust this,” he said. “When he starts…fuck, don’t look back, don’t even wait. Just block it out and go.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

“Okay?” he murmured, his eyes fluttering shut again. It didn't matter how much food or painkillers I snuck down here. He was still so weak compared to when he first arrived, and the sight of him deteriorating in front of me was slowly killing me alongside him. But even though I was so scared that everything would go wrong—because why wouldn't it? Why would it be this simple?—I’d rather die trying than never try at all.

January 16th, 1993

The calm before the storm. That’s what it had felt like all day. I completed my chores like I enjoyed them, cooking dinner for Wayne with a smile on my face, hoping he didn’t suspect the ulterior motives behind my actions. Wayne had said I was being sweet on him, kissing me and giving me a smile that I absolutely despised. He didn’t deserve to be happy, he didn't have the right to smile after what he’d done. But like I'd done for many years, I bit my tongue.

The television droned on in the background as Wayne sat beside me, one arm stretched along the back of the couch, the other holding his beer loosely in his hand. The smell of it mixed with the stale air of the house, and it made my head spin. I kept my eyes on the clock, watching every second, and every minute tick by with my stomach in knots.

“Oi! Get me out of here, you cunt!”

Jackson’s scream tore through the house, and my heart slammed against my ribs so hard, it felt like it might give me away. “What’s that bastard doing now?” Wayne muttered, already irritated, slamming his beer down on the coffee table. I watched as it splashed up out of the bottle, some of the liquid landing on my calf. But I didn’t react. Another scream followed, and I clenched my fists, feeling like my heart was about to stop beating inside my chest.

Wayne pushed himself up from the couch, the sudden movement making the coffee table rattle. “Bloody idiot’s fucking asking for it now.” I forced myself not to react. Not to move too fast. Not to breathe too loud.

Inside, I was on the edge of a cliff, staring down at the jagged rocks, but knowing I had to jump in anyway. Oh, God. Wayne was already striding down the hallway, muttering under his breath.