Authors: J.A. Howell
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Copyright © 2013 J.A. Howell
All rights reserved.
Cover design by J.A. Howell
Edited by Bridgette O’Hare
For Robert.
I love you.
Thank you to all my family and friends that have been so supportive and encouraging with my writing, I couldn’t have done it without any of you. To my friends Madi, Andrea, Michele, Tyffani, Andrew, and Hannah- Thank you for all your feedback and encouragement as I pieced together Possess and it’s characters.
To my online and offline writer buddies, thank you all so much for your words of wisdom, encouragement, and taking the time to share your knowledge with me. Last but not least, thank you to my awesome editor Bridgette O’Hare for working with me on The Possess Saga.
Escape
Tonight would be my last meal with Jackson Donnings, so I wanted everything to be perfect. Two pan-seared rib-eye steaks sat in a cast-iron skillet warming in the oven. Medium rare, just the way he liked it. A side of roasted veggies drizzled with butter had already been arranged on the white Lenox china just so, waiting for the main entrée to complete its fine presentation. I turned back to the stove and dumped sautéed onions into a copper sauce pan, stirring them into the creamy mixture as my diamond bracelet slid back and forth on my wrist. All the while repeating the recipe in my head, so as not to overcook it.
Reduce heat and let simmer for three to five minutes.
As I looked up from the sauce, I caught a glimpse of myself in the stainless steel backsplash and cringed.
No, now is not the time to let your emotions get in the way,
Harley
. I needed to focus on the task at hand. I needed to finish cooking dinner. Jackson would be home soon.
I grabbed a cloth from the kitchen sink and busied myself with wiping down the black granite countertops. Five minutes later the sauce was done and I placed the dishes on the table with wine glasses, flatware, and a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. The deadbolt on the front door clicked as if on cue, and a moment later Jackson’s footsteps echoed as he walked toward the kitchen. With a deep breath, I smoothed the rich blue silk of my dress over my thighs.
Be strong, you can do this.
“Mmm. What is that delectable smell?” Jackson turned the corner into the kitchen as his lips formed a sly grin. His dark, slicked hair almost matched his black suit. A powder blue tie brought out the steel gray in his eyes as he searched the kitchen, examining the exquisitely set table.
“I cooked your favorite.” I smiled.
“What’s the big occasion?”
“I wanted to apologize for upsetting you yesterday.”
The only thing I was sorry for was not doing this sooner. He stood there a moment, studying me.
“Well, if dinner is as good as it looks, then all is forgiven.” Jackson smirked and kissed my forehead. I winced as he tilted my face up to his and ran his fingertips over the tender bruise on my cheek.
“Maybe tomorrow I’ll take you to get some new makeup. Make you look a bit more presentable.” He kissed my neck, tracing his finger over the diamond teardrop pendant he had given me for my birthday.
I nodded in reply and took my seat. I watched him carefully as he removed his jacket and tie, then laid them over the back of his chair before joining me, flashing him a loving smile as I poured wine into our glasses. He winked at me, cut off a square of steak, and swirled it around in the sauce before shoving it in his mouth with his fork.
He looked from his plate to mine as his eyebrows pressed together curiously. “No sauce for you?”
“I’m just being precautious. The wedding is right around the corner.”
“Ah, yes. Would be a shame if you didn’t fit into your wedding dress, now wouldn’t it?”
I only nodded and took a sip of wine. I couldn’t bear to look at him any more than I needed to. I just wanted to be free from him. So far, nothing was happening. Several minutes passed and he continued enjoying his meal.
Maybe I didn’t use enough.
He paused for a moment, putting down his fork and narrowing his eyes at me.
“Harley?”
“Yes, Jackson?” My muscles tensed, but I offered my usual attentive smile.
“Could you be a doll and get me more sauce?” He licked his lips and ran a finger over the back of my hand. “It’s quite good and if you’re not having any, I could use some more.”
Oh yes, you could.
I stood, pushing my chair back, and walked back into the kitchen as my heels clicked against the slate tile floor. Jackson took a sip of wine and motioned for me to pour more sauce on his dish when I returned.
“Hmm. The wine can’t be
that
strong.” He looked confused as he placed the glass down. I glanced at him as I spooned more sauce onto his plate. His palms were flat against the table. He swayed slightly as his eyes glossed over.
“Are you alright, dear?” I asked. He cocked his head in my direction and attempted to focus his gaze on me. I placed the saucepan down on the table and stepped back toward my chair.
“I’m fine, honey. Why don’t you sit down? Indulge even. Pour yourself some sauce. You can always go see the trainer in the morning.” He squinted toward me with unfocused eyes.
“No thank you, darling.” I answered coolly with an innocent smile. He lunged from his chair in an instant, his eyes blazing as he reached for me. He knew. I jumped out of his way, causing him to tumble against the china cabinet.
“You stupid whore!” He growled as he tried to pull himself up, his fingers gripping the cabinet. “What the fuck did you put in my food?”
I backed toward the foyer as I watched him struggle to regain his footing. The drugs were affecting him, but they hadn’t knocked him out as I had hoped. As he staggered to his feet, I turned to run. He charged at me, catching me by my waist, slamming us both against the floor at the foot of the stairs. I screamed involuntarily as the searing pain reminded me of the previous evening’s injuries.
Jackson’s fingers clawed at me, grabbing a handful of hair as he bashed my face against the floor. Another painful cry echoed as white flashes blurred my vision. His knee dug into my lower back as he pressed his weight down on me. I felt the heat from his breath as he lowered his face to mine.
“What were you going to do, Harley? Run away from the big bad wolf? Do you really think you can just leave
me
?” He dug his knee in harder, pain shot up my back and through my hips. There was no escape. He was too strong.
“Harley, after last night I . . . I think you’d know…better.” His words began to slur. I squeezed my eyes shut as tears threatened, praying the drugs would finally kick in. A few seconds later, Jackson’s body slumped over with an unceremonious thud as his head hit the floor, trapping me beneath him.
I squirmed from beneath him and gasped for air as I pushed myself off the floor. My heart pounded in my chest as I mentally ran through the rest of my plan. Kicking off my high heels, I raced up the stairs. There wasn’t much time. There was no guarantee he would stay knocked out for the amount of time I had estimated. As I flung open the bedroom door, I discarded the expensive silk dress on the floor with disgust and grabbed the packed duffel bag I had stuffed in the back of the closet behind his collection of tailored suits. I had packed enough clothes for a couple of days as well as my clothes for tonight. Shoving the suits aside, I hastily pulled on the pair of jeans, boots, and the warm blue sweater before flinging the duffel bag over my shoulder.
Almost there, Harley.
I headed straight for Jackson’s office at the end of the hall. He didn't think I knew about all his little side ventures – all of which were illegal, or at the very least immoral, but I knew. I also knew he had cash stashed in several places throughout the house. I had watched him tucking some away just the other night.
I went straight to the bookshelf that covered the entire back wall. Various business journals, financial records, and dusty first editions passed down through his family stuffed the shelves. I scanned the top shelf for the large, ornately decorated Bible – a dead giveaway when I had located it earlier.
Jackson and Bibles mixing? That was a joke.
I snatched it from the shelf and opened it to reveal a large wad of cash, a small .380 pistol, and an extra magazine of ammo inside the hollowed interior. I inhaled a sigh of relief and tucked the cash into the bag along with the gun. Just in case.
Now it’s time to go.
The rest of my plan was not nearly as laid out, but I'd run out of time to work through every last detail. If he awoke before I left, I would be lucky to see the next morning. I held onto the resolve I had earlier and tried not to think about the gravity of the situation as I tip-toed down the stairs as quickly and quietly as possible. His body still lay motionless on the floor as I stepped over him. I briefly considered the gun in my bag. It would have been so easy to finish Jackson off right there as he lay unconscious, unprotected. But I was better than that. Maybe given the chance he might have killed me tonight, but I wouldn't sink to his level.
Fuck him.
I glanced around the foyer, looking for his car keys. They weren’t hanging in their usual spot.
Crap. They’re still on him.
I knelt down and cautiously reached a hand into one pocket. Nothing. He stirred slightly and I froze, my breath catching in my throat. I stepped over his body and carefully reached into the other pocket as my fingers wrapped around his key ring. I slowly pulled them from their hiding place, squeezing them tightly to keep them from jingling.
Don’t wake up. Please don't wake up.
Standing, still holding my breath, I eased toward the front door on the heels of my boots. I didn't dare turn my back on him. Even unconscious, I didn't trust him. Jackson Donnings was a monster, a monster that would never get a chance to hurt me again.
I planned to do whatever I could to make sure he didn't find me. With one last glance at his massive form sprawled across the floor, I turned the door handle and stepped out onto the front verandah. His precious Mercedes convertible was parked in the driveway. Hurrying toward it, I pressed the remote, the doors unlocked and a few seconds later, I was pulling away from the imposing house that had slowly become my prison over the last year. I let out a breath, relief washing over me. I wasn't free yet, but I was finally getting away from Jackson. I never wanted to lay eyes on him again.
I turned the wheel and drove down the long driveway, my finger readied on the remote attached to the sun visor. A press of the button separated the wrought iron gates at the end of the drive. I turned onto the road and headed for the bus station. It had less security than an airport, they wouldn't search my bag or check my ID and I needed to be as anonymous as possible.
I drove for over forty minutes until I saw the sign for the bus station. A few blocks away, I turned the Mercedes down a darkened street. Not the best of neighborhoods, but perfect for my purpose. I parked the car on the street and put down the top before shutting off the engine. With a deep breath I glanced at myself in the mirror. Jackson had left a fresh cut on my bruised cheek and a small trickle of dried blood under one nostril. I wiped the blood away with my sleeve and combed my hair to cover the cut on my face before tugging off the diamond earrings, necklace, and bracelet. Each a gift from Jackson. Each a reminder I didn’t want of him and the past year. I could pawn them, but Jackson didn’t give run of the mill jewelry. If I pawned them, he would likely be able to track them down – which meant tracking me down. I wouldn’t take that chance. I deposited the jewelry in the center console, in clear view, and grabbed my bag from the passenger seat as I climbed out of the car, leaving the keys in the ignition.
Despite my injuries, I reached the bus station ten minutes later. I approached the ticket counter and bought two tickets – one heading for Minnesota, the other for Maine. Just in case he knew anyone here, I needed to keep things confusing. Both buses left within minutes of each other and since I personally preferred to head toward the east coast, I boarded the second bus as they made last calls for passengers.
I eased into a window seat toward the back of the bus and placed my bag in the empty spot beside me. Despite the pain circulating through my body in dull throbs, I was able to get comfortable. My eyes quickly grew heavy and my breathing slowed. I couldn’t remember the last time I'd slept peacefully, but with the distance between Jackson and me growing by the minute, the adrenaline that had pumped through my veins dissipated. I yawned, placed a hand over my bag, and finally let myself give in to sleep.
I did it. I escaped.