Into the Storm (34 page)

I had argued with Trevor over using the helicopter. He thought we should cause a distraction and walk her out of the library’s back door and drive away. “The drive will only take a few hours. The helicopter will get noticed, Joshua. We need permission to land and there will be records; traceable records,” he had insisted. “You’re reacting to your pain. You need to step away, Joshua.” He stared at me. “We need to think this through, rationally.”

I had stood up, angry and frustrated, sending my chair flying and slamming my hand down on the table. I didn't care that I was yelling now. 

“
Yeah, I’m reacting to my feelings! I’m fucking done with
thinking
, Trevor! Last time I thought it through I sent her away and that was the fucking wrong decision! My gut is telling me to get her out fast and that’s what we’re going to do. I won’t risk being pulled over and her being taken away from us! The helicopter is the safest, fastest way. I don’t fucking care how much money it costs to change the records and get this done. Make them an offer they can’t refuse. Arrange for the helicopter to land—just fucking do it!”

Frank had to step in and calm us both down. He agreed with me and, grudgingly, Trevor went upstairs to make the arrangements while Frank and I sat with Cecilia going through the information we had on Rabbit’s schedule.

Rabbit’s life was very regimented and she was never alone. For weeks ahead, each day was planned out and there didn’t seem to be many variances from the daily schedule, aside from the functions they attended. Mondays and Thursdays were to be spent at the library. Tuesday and Wednesday mornings were to be spent with a trainer and the afternoons at the hospital.

Friday mornings were again with her trainer and the afternoon was scheduled as a spa day at a private women’s club. Cecilia told me she probably had lunch and spent the afternoon being groomed. I snorted. Like she needed that. She was naturally lovely and didn’t need any
grooming
in my opinion. Her evenings and weekends were spent either at Brian’s side at a function or alone inside her house. I shook my head. I thought I had sent her back to her
life
, but she simply existed in the environment she had gone back to.

Frank’s people even had a few pictures of her, taken at one of the many functions they attended. It hurt seeing how blank she looked again, devoid of emotion, her eyes always downcast. I couldn’t see any new marks on her but her clothing covered her completely. And, her glorious hair was once again rolled tightly and hidden away.
She
was hidden away.

I pulled a hand through my hair. The phone calls had stopped. I knew she thought she had been abandoned. I could see it in her defeated stance of the latest photo.

I just had to hold on and know it would be done soon.

I picked up a picture and traced her partially hidden face.

“
Hold on just a few more days, Rabbit. We’re coming.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Rabbit

Three days. For the next three days every chance I got at the hospital or library, I called the number on the card. I had to be careful how often I went to the lounge so Bob didn’t suspect anything, but he never followed me into the staff room at either place and there was a phone in both lounges. But the number just rang and rang. A few rings each time and then nothing. It just cut off. After the first few attempts, it occurred to me that maybe the soft noise I heard meant there was an answering machine on the other end and, hesitantly, I left a message. Then another, then another…

It’s Rabbit. Please. Joshua. I need you.

Please, Joshua. I remember everything. I’m scared …

It was him, Joshua. I don’t know how long I have until he knows and I’m being watched …

Joshua … I want to come home.

Joshua … please.

Every time I called, I prayed I would hear Joshua’s voice. That he would tell me it was going to be okay. At the end of the first day, I was convinced I had written down the wrong number, but once the card was dry the number disappeared again, and even when I re-wet it nothing came up, so I had no way of checking. But I had been so careful when I wrote it down. So I kept trying. I was desperate. Today was my last day out of the house and the watchful eyes followed me everywhere. By the time Bob came to my door and informed me it was time to leave, I was completely lost and dejected.

Had he changed his mind? Did he just not care anymore?

My head felt too heavy to hold up and I slumped down in the back of the car.

If Joshua didn’t care … then I was truly alone. Nothing meant anything.

And then … I gave up.

The rest of the week passed by in a haze of sad fogginess. I did everything expected of me and acted the part of the confused, quiet wife well. My behavior was exemplary at all the functions we attended. The weekend passed by in a haze of events and duties. I slept fitfully, waking up frequently, sobbing into my pillow. My appetite was non-existent and my spirit lower than I could ever remember it being.

Monday morning, I woke up feeling un-refreshed and still groggy. I winced as I sat up and looked down at the fresh bruise on my arm. Brian’s handprint was visible on my forearm. When I had cancelled the session with the trainer yesterday, pleading exhaustion, he had lost it and berated me for several minutes. I made the mistake of standing up, thinking he was done criticizing me, and he had grabbed me, his hand squeezing painfully down on my arm to stop me from leaving. It was only my gasp of pain that seemed to bring him out of his rage before he flung me away from him and stormed out of the dining room. I had spent the rest of the day in my room, alone and frightened.

I made my way to the shower with a heavy heart, my week stretching out in front of me. It was starting again. I knew that soon enough the grabbing would turn into hitting and the hitting would escalate. I had to figure out an escape plan before he lost control. I wasn’t sure I’d survive his rages again. The months it had taken me to escape last time were a luxury I no longer had, and to make things even more difficult, I was now being watched. Somehow, I had to get away and find a way to start over. I needed to figure a way of slipping away from the eyes that followed me and escape. To where and to whom I had no idea. I had already risked Tracy, involving her with my car. I couldn’t put her at further risk. I had no one else to turn to. If Joshua didn’t want me, I wasn’t sure what to do. But I knew I couldn’t give up. I knew I had to get away from
him
.

I wondered about going to the police with the pictures I had. Would it be enough? If I told them what had happened, would they believe me? Could they protect me? Brian seemed to control every aspect of my life, and there were no public medical records of my injuries. I knew without a doubt that the doctor he took me to was being paid to stay quiet and not keep records when he treated me. The evidence I had before was lost, buried somewhere in the snow on Joshua’s property. Now that my memory was back, I knew my purse had been on the seat beside me before I hit the tree and must have fallen out in the chaos that followed. I wondered if it would ever be found.

I sighed as I felt the tears trickle down my face. Would
anyone
believe me? My head ached with the magnitude of what I was facing and I shut the shower off, dreading the day and the life that seemed to stretch on endlessly in front of me. Joshua had thought I would resent a life with him because of the limitations he lived with. Yet each day I had with him had contained joy and love. The stark reality now was my life here was a prison; one of coldness and obscurity, where I meant nothing. I may not have remembered my name when I was with Joshua, but I knew who I was and what I meant to him.

Brian wasn’t at breakfast. Mrs. Smith informed me quietly that he had an early meeting and had already left. I nodded. This often happened after he laid his hands on me. I was grateful for the reprieve. Still, I pushed the oatmeal around my bowl with no appetite, and eventually gave up and waited by the front door for Bob to arrive and escort me to the library. Mrs. Smith appeared wordlessly and slipped a granola bar into my pocket and patted my shoulder before walking away. My eyes followed her gratefully. Although she had always remained reserved, unlike the rest of the staff, she endeavored to be kind to me in small ways.

When I got to the library I forced myself to stay at my desk. There was no point calling the number. I didn’t even open a search engine to try and find a link to Joshua. I spent most of the morning working with Kate, planning the next fundraiser for the literacy program. More than once, she asked if I was okay and I smiled and brushed off her concerns.

Just after lunch, my eyes were heavy and tired and I knew I needed a coffee to make it through the rest of the day. Leaning forward, I picked up the mug my favourite little reader had given me, and stopped short as I noticed a small fuzzy object in the bottom. Curious, I turned the mug over and instantly my eyes filled with tears. A tiny, furry, stuffed rabbit, no bigger than a golf ball, sat in the palm of my hand. And, attached to the soft bundle, a small, blank white card. It was identical to the first card Joshua had given me. My heart began pounding and I looked around wondering how it had gotten there. I stood up on trembling legs and walked down to the staff lounge, the items safely in my pocket, my mug hanging loosely from my fingers. Bob remained seated at the other end of the hall. He barely even glanced my way. We both knew there was nowhere else I could go.

Two of the librarians were sitting quietly in the lounge, discussing something, but they were the only other people there. I walked to the bathroom, shut the door and stood in front of the sink. I reached in my pocket with trembling fingers and pulled out the small blank card and rabbit. My hands were shaking as I turned on the faucet and soaked the card, holding tightly to the furry rabbit. I set it on the edge of the sink, watching as Joshua’s writing appeared.

I heard you. It’s time to come home.

Be careful. Eyes.

Hospital. Tomorrow. 1 p.m.

~J

I sank to the floor, unheeded tears streaming down my face. He hadn’t deserted me. He still loved me.

Joshua was sending someone for me. Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, I was going home.

I just had to make it through one more day.

I closed my eyes, praying I could do it.

I made it back to my desk, looking calmer than I was feeling. I even remembered to take the coffee with me. My mind raced with the implications.