The sound of shattering glass and the flickering of the light were the first things Beth remembered when she came to. Right on the heels came the rest of the nightmare. How had he found her again? The shelter network had moved her eight states away, given her a new identity, and a new place to live. How had he managed to track her down with every precaution having been taken?
Beth groaned then clutched at her swollen belly. Inside she felt the reassuring flutter of life. Her daughter still lived, thank God. He hadn't taken the baby from her. Not yet. Perhaps her promise that her death would mean a double homicide conviction had gotten through his rage, but she didn't think so. That wasn't Robert's style. He was all about torture, about inflicting intense suffering. That she was scheduled to be induced on Tuesday, a mere five days away, would mean nothing to him. The baby meant nothing to him. It wasn't, after all, his to begin with.
She raised herself gingerly from the bed. Her face hurt where he had hit her and her back was threatening to seize. On the floor at her feet lay the shattered remains of the crystal lamp that had stood on the bedside table. A shame. She had loved that lamp, she thought incongruously.
Staggering to the door she tried the handle only to find it wouldn't turn. She didn't know what he had done to it but obviously she wasn't going anywhere. The window looked out on the city from six stories up. Giving in to her panic she banged uselessly on the door and begged to be let out only to be met with a cold silence on the other side.
Dragging herself back to the bed she caught a glimpse of herself in the dresser mirror, and what she saw didn't surprise her. Gone was the vibrant, spirited young woman of four years ago. Her once lustrous dark hair hung limp about her battered face, now streaked with gray that, along with her haggard features, told the story. She looked far older than her thirty-one years. Marriage to Robert had done that to her.
Sitting down, she thought back and wondered not for the first time what had gone wrong. She thought they had been happy, that they were in love, when she had met him at the alter. Robert was a very successful litigation attorney with a focus on a future in politics. She had been a fresh paralegal at another firm when they had first met. They had dated for three years before he finally popped the question and she had said yes with tears of joy in her eyes. Looking back she could only shake her head at her naivete. There had been so many subtle signs of his true nature yet she had refused to take them seriously. Even when her parents and friends warned her of impending disaster she had continued blithely along her rosy path. She hadn't seen the vicious briars hidden beneath the blooms. But they had been there and showed themselves after a mere month of wedded bliss.
The baby kicked, startling her and sending her suddenly to the bathroom across from the bed. After she was finished she returned to the bed and sat, fear filling her as she rubbed her belly comfortingly. What was she going to do? Even if she could get out where could she go? He'd found her twice now despite the best efforts of those who sought to help her.
Looking around the room she mentally inventoried what it held. Stupidly she had never considered getting a weapon. She didn't even have a baseball bat. She'd been too complacent, certain that she had at last found a place where she could lower her guard enough so that her stress wouldn't endanger the child she carried. Now that complacency had once again brought danger to her door. Tears welled, as did a slow burning anger. She was tired of running. Tired of being afraid of her own shadow. And she was long over Mister Robert Hammond, esquire.
Her thoughts softened as she thought of Craig. Her staunch friend who, for one night, had been the one man with whom she had felt so safe as to fully give herself to in ways she now realized she had never given Robert. That one night she had discovered the depth of the love he had harbored for her since junior high. That one night she had known what she had missed by not seeing the truth before her. And that one night was all she would ever have.
But that wasn't true . He had given her his daughter and the lifetime of love that he had held for her alone. Then he had sacrificed himself for her freedom by drawing Robert away long enough for her to escape to the first domestic abuse shelter. His battered body had been retrieved later from a dumpster in a rough part of town, a bullet hole in his head. Robert was nothing if not thorough.
She rose and walked carefully to the window, one hand still on her belly while the other rubbed her aching back. Pigeons roosted on the ledge beyond the glass, watching her with expressionless eyes. The window opened but who would hear her scream? This side of the building overlooked a vacant, overgrown field. There were no people scurrying about. The neighbors, she had already learned, were not of the type to lend themselves to trouble. They might call 911, if she were lucky. Those who had helped her escape had set her up in this town so far from where she had started. The first apartment had been carefully chosen for its location and its anonymity. They had given her enough money to establish herself with her new identity. Then she had found out she was pregnant.
Without insurance and unable to work as her pregnancy advanced she had been forced to leave the safety of that apartment and take the one place she could afford. It was an old building, kept up well enough but obviously not a safe choice. But what choice had she really had? Somehow Robert had found her and without any difficulty taken her prisoner.
Somewhere in the apartment she heard a noise and whirled just as the knob on the door rattled. Panic filled her and she looked frantically about her for a weapon. Her eyes settled on the broken lamp and she had just enough time to lift a palm-sized shard of glass and secret it behind her. As the door opened, her panic gelled into frightened fury as her mother's instincts kicked in. She would do what she had to to protect the child within her.
Robert entered and she was suddenly struck by a strange truth. He wasn't a large man. Coldly handsome and self assured, he was no more than three or four inches taller than she and wiry beneath the expensive suit that he wore like armor. Why had she never noticed that before? He exuded danger, however, and she knew only too well what he was capable of. How had she ever thought herself in love with him? She forced herself to calm as she surveyed the situation. Somehow, she had to get herself and her child out of this apartment.
“So, my dear wife,” he almost purred, “Here we are again.”
He took a step closer and she took a step back, feeling the glass cutting into her palm.
“Get out of my house, Robert. Leave, now!”
“Or what? What could you possibly do to me with that bastard in your belly? Hmm?”
He took another step and she found her back against the wall beside the window.
“You've been a very foolish girl,” he declared conversationally, “Whatever am I to do with you?”
“I'm telling you, Robert, leave me alone. Leave me and my baby alone.”
“Shall I tell you how he died?” he taunted, “Shall I describe to you how your lover fought for you and died for you. I made sure he knew what I would do once I found you. I made sure he knew he had failed you. Then,” he shrugged, “I made him pay. Did you know his last words were that he would never allow me to hurt you again?”
Beth felt sick as the images he described filled her mind. Oh, Craig, was I really worth your life?
Yes
She barely had time to register the voice in her head before Robert lunged. Without thinking her hand with the glass flew from behind her back and raked down his harsh, handsome face. Blood spurted from the deep cut that ran from ear to mouth and he staggered back, shocked by the attack. Beth dropped the shard and tried to run past him, but he reached out and grabbed her arm with a bloody fist.
“Bitch!”
Raising his other fist he swung at her face and she flinched. But the blow never came. She heard him cry out and opened her eyes to see him struggling with a gray mist. She saw the panic in his face as he flailed, his fists and feet striking out but making no contact. He seemed to be dragged toward the window, the mist enveloping him like a shroud, until the window was blown open and Robert, now invisible, disappeared over the edge, sending the pigeons skyward as his scream echoed upward before ending in a hideous silence.
Frozen, Beth stared at the window with its ledge red with Robert's blood. What had just happened? The baby's kicking brought her back and she began again to breathe. Sinking onto the bed her head shook slowly from side to side. What the hell had just happened?
She could hear the crowd gathering six stories below the window and moments later there were sirens adding to the confusion. Looking about her she was startled to see the mist had returned and terror filled her, her mouth opening without sound. The baby kicked madly in her belly and she wrapped her arms protectively about herself.
But then, the mist began to take shape and slowly it took the form of a man. A man with a beloved face once again beautiful as in life.
“Craig?”
He smiled sadly at her and though his lips didn't move she heard his voice as clearly as if he had spoken them directly into her ear.
You're free, my love. You and my child.
“But, how...?”
You're free.
And with that he retreated into the mist, and he was gone.
Well written, gripping and hard to read because so many women seem to be caught up in these kinds of relationships. This scenario is particularly bad, with an ex-husband who is a lawyer who can operate above the law, he thinks.
Unfortunately, I didn't like the ghost of Craig solving the problem. I would have much more liked Beth to have actually created a mortal wound that would have ended Robert's terrorism of her. Or, have her awaken and find that, while it was only a dream, learning later that something had happened to Robert that coincided with her dream. (like his anger gave him a heart attack and he fell dead on the sidewalk under that window as he approached her apartment building).
I find real life stories better than fantasy ones. But it's your choice. Some people live in a fantasy world and want to be surrounded by fantasy.
Very vivid and compelling narrative. You really do have a knack for this kind of prose and is very engaging to the reader. Very descriptive, true to life, and realistic dialogue. Well done.
Second in The Chronicles of Illúmaril series, author Gary Caplan's The Return of the Ancient Ones is a distinct tale that illustrates how one's fiercest enemy can become one's most aggressive ally.
Winner 2012 NABE Pinnacle Book Award in Fan
A world of steam and springs. A breakneck race for power. Will one woman's defiance topple a kingdom? If you like feisty heroines, fearsome dragons, and fast-paced action, then you'll savor this steam-powered thrill-ride.
Deemed One of the Top 10 indie Fantasy releases of 2010 by Fantasy Book Critic, and listed in the first ever Publishers Weekly Indie Select issue, the original 235k word epic title was written in longhand in a Texas prison cell by M. R. Mathias.
