Chance (19 page)

“What is it, Logan?” she
asked, genuinely concerned. “What’s wrong?”

As soon as she saw him,
she knew why he was so upset. To make matters worse, it was all her fault! The normally
vertical filing cabinet was now lying on the floor. Logan was red in the face,
obviously extremely upset. He stood with one foot on the cabinet to keep it
still. He was trying to wrench the drawer open with his bare hands. He was reduced
to using brute force to break into his own property. Her heart hammered in
fear.

“I lost the God damned key
to this fucking thing!” he cursed, wincing from exertion, as he continued to
focus his efforts to try and force it open. “I always keep it in the same
fucking drawer! I don’t know how the hell I could've lost it.”

She tried her best to
keep an innocent, confused and concerned look on her face. However, inside she
was churning with guilt and fear. He glanced up at her and saw her watching him.
He was completely taken in by her act. She’d been so obedient lately, such a
good wife, why would he suspect anything else of her?

“Just go and make me some
coffee,” he ordered. “I’ll get it open, don’t worry.”

“Okay, darling,” she
smiled at him lovingly, then turned around and headed back to the kitchen,
utterly relieved he didn't suspect her and he wasn't angry with her.

She felt an overwhelming
amount of guilt and shame. This was all her fault. It was so stupid that she
didn't replace the key. All she wanted to do was to protect her family and to
get back her freedom. She didn't want to hurt him or upset him any more than
her leaving him was sure to cause. This had been totally preventable and
unnecessary.  

She realized she wouldn't
even need the key anymore, not if he succeeded in forcing it open. As she
walked into the kitchen, she wondered what could possibly in there that he
needed so badly. If he'd been this frantic to get into that cabinet, it was
obvious he kept important things inside.

The more she thought
about it, the more she was convinced that whatever information he'd held over
her father, was to be found in that cabinet, somewhere. It made perfect sense
for him to hide any documents that might be the only hold he had over her
somewhere she'd never find.

It would only be a few
more days before she had another chance to gain access to the office. However,
she decided to keep away for a while after the huge mistake she'd made with the
key. She still felt uneasy and angry with herself for her stupid mistake. Seeing
Logan’s frustration and rage as he attempted to and eventually succeeded in
breaking open the filing cabinet, also made her hesitate. She was afraid of
what she might find there.

***

Her next attempt was two
weeks later. It was prompted by Logan’s decision to order a new filing cabinet.
According to him, his '
most important documents were all just lying in
stacks on the floor
' after he'd wound up taking a sledgehammer and axe to
the cabinet in order to bust it open.

She realized her chances
to explore the contents of the cabinet might not exist once the new cabinet
arrived. She'd face the same problem of finding the new key all over again. In
addition, he might put it somewhere else that would be tougher to find. She
wanted to avoid that after all of the trouble she’d already gone to and caused.
If Charlotte went in now, the documents would be in stacks on the floor.
Apparently, they were all laid out, ready for her to rifle through and read.

Returning to the office
at the next available opportunity, she'd found the drawers from the broken
filing cabinet stacked up on the floor in the corner, the shattered pieces of
wood were in a pile next to it. Unsure of how long she had before Logan
returned, she sat cross legged on the floor and took a handful of papers out,
resting them on her lap as she began to look through them one by one.

It was a terribly tedious
and boring task. She was essentially searching for any mention of her father's
name amongst the hundreds of irrelevant documents. All the while, she was keeping
a wary eye on the time. She'd allowed herself thirty minutes, as he’d never
returned within thirty minutes in the past. However, on quite a few occasions, he'd
returned within an hour.

After thirty frustrating
minutes, she started putting everything away again, making sure it was in the
same order as when she'd started. She couldn’t afford him to suspect anything.
She repeated this each day, every time Logan left the house, until the day the
new filing cabinet arrived.

She still hadn't found anything,
not a single shred of evidence. Nothing she'd seen had her father's name on it.
Perhaps there wasn't anything to be found at all, she thought to herself. Maybe
Logan had been bluffing. He definitely knew Charlotte well enough to be confident
she'd never risk hurting her father in any way.

I wouldn't take that
risk, would I?

The now regular forays
into the office were beginning to cause her more stress than she'd felt they
were worth. Particularly because they weren't actually yielding any results.
Twice he'd come home not long after she'd packed everything back up. With each
attempt, she felt as if she was pushing her luck beyond its limit.

She had to be vigilant at
all times, or he'd catch her. She wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone. It was
tough enough to admit it to herself. However, she couldn't help thinking that in
the worst-case scenario, she'd pictured him catching her in the act and pulling
a gun on her. Damn his hoarding of paperwork—if he didn’t have so much, she'd
have been finished in two sessions.

Finally, she got down to one
last drawer. Her task nearly at an end. It was a Friday. Logan left without saying
a word. With a thrill of happy anticipation that she could finally stop this
task she dreaded so much, she went and retrieved the key to the office.

Surely if there was
nothing incriminating about her father in the final drawer, that would be all of
the proof she needed that Logan had been bluffing. She could rest assured Logan
had simply misled her by using her love and protective impulses for her parents
so she'd remain his prisoner. Then she could leave without having to fear for
any consequences that might harm her family.

Charlotte waited a
suitable amount of time after she'd heard the engine kick over. She got the key
from the drawer and put it in her pocket. Then she went to the office door. She
took the key from her pocket and reached for the doorknob. 

"What the fuck are
you doing?" Logan's deep, loud voice boomed from behind her.

She jumped and spun around
in a panic, with her heart in her throat. She automatically closed her hand
tightly around the key.

"Uh…I was
just...uh...." she tried to think fast.

"Get away from that
door," he growled loudly as he quickly crossed the space between them in an
instant.

He grabbed a hold of her
wrist and slammed her up against the wall.

"You stay the fuck away
from my office, bitch! If I ever catch you there, I'll break your fucking arm!"

While he'd been physically
rough with her on many occasions in the past, it had always seemed like impulsive
acts. He'd lost his temper, reacting to something that upset him. This was the
first time he'd ever threatened her with violence. Of course, there was no
doubt in Charlotte's mind he was capable of that and more.

Later, when she thought
back to that moment when he caught her at the door, she was just thankful he
hadn’t come home a few minutes later and found her inside. She had the feeling
a broken arm would've been the least of her problems.

At that moment, as he
glared down at her and she saw his eyes full of rage and hateful violence, she
made a firm decision. She decided to leave him as soon as possible, no matter
what.

“What were you doing near
my office,” he said more quietly when he saw the single tear roll down her
cheek.

“I was about to vacuum
the house and was just checking to see if your room needed it, too. Please
Logan, you’re hurting my wrist,” she pleaded.

She saw his rage
dissipate as he processed her lie. It looked as if he was waking from a dream,
he blinked, let go of her and stepped back.

“Well, it doesn’t. I take
care of that room. Besides, it's locked. Just stay clear of my office,
Charlotte. Now, come with me, I’ll make you a cup of tea,” he was calm now,
back to the old Logan she preferred.

He wanted to take care of
her. He took her hand, more gently this time and began to lead her down the hall.

Shit! The key! I’ve
got to get it back!

“Wait, darling!” she said
pulling up short. "I just need to use the bathroom. I'll be right there.”

“Fine,” he snapped. “Make
it quick.”

Charlotte did make it
quick, as soon as she was sure he was in the kitchen, she bolted up the stairs
and returned the key to its rightful hiding place. Then she took a couple deep,
calming breaths before heading back down to join her psychopathic husband.

Now that her decision to
leave him was made, it was a matter of building up her courage and picking the
right moment to escape. She decided she'd have to do it while he was out. She'd
have a bag packed and ready to go. Whenever the opportunity presented itself, she'd
just sneak out of the house and go.

This time, she'd leave
him without making the mistake of warning him.

This time, she'd go
straight to her father. She'd tell her parents everything and warn them about
what Logan had said. If he really did have some kind of damaging secret,
perhaps they could work on it together. They could do some damage control to prevent
it from getting out, before it did too much harm.

She strongly suspected there
was nothing to what Logan had threatened. It was all a bluff to convince her to
stay. If she were right, then it wouldn’t matter. Charlotte felt incredibly embarrassed
and ashamed by the idea of having to admit to her parents that her wonderful
relationship with Logan, wasn’t at all like the picture she'd painted in their
infrequent communications.

However, she knew he
parents truly loved her. Deep down, she knew they'd always support her, no
matter what. She already knew they weren't crazy about him. That had been
clear. Yet they stood behind her despite their own reluctance.

The day she'd finally decided
to leave wasn’t a particularly different day from any other. They hadn’t argued
and nothing bad had happened. Yet somehow, she just felt as though that day was
the day to leave. As she heard his tires crunch on the gravel driveway as his
car left, she felt a burst of energy and excitement and she leapt out of bed.

Charlotte grabbed her packed
bag from a dark corner of the wardrobe. She'd only packed two sets of clothes,
so as not to alert Logan if he'd looked in her closet. She hastily stuffed a
few last minute items in it. She quickly stripped off her pajamas and put them
in the bag, as well. Then she dressed in jeans, a sweater and her Nikes.

The mistake she made last
time, was letting him know she was going to leave him. It had given him chance
to convince her otherwise, to work his special brand of manipulation and blackmail.
This time, there'd be no such chance for him to intervene. By the time he came
back home, she'd be long gone.

She should've known it
wouldn’t be that easy.

Charlotte had to climb
out of a ground floor window, because he’d taken to locking her in every time
he left the house. As far as he was concerned, she had no need to go out on her
own, therefore no need for a key. When she'd protested these arrangements,
telling him she might become trapped in the case of a fire, he'd called her
silly and told her she was overreacting. She knew it was nothing more than an
excuse to control her and keep her prisoner. However, she never said anything
to criticize his decision.

It would've been
pointless to argue with him. She knew that by now. He made up his mind and
wouldn’t be changing it. She let him think she believed his ridiculous
suggestion that she'd be safer if she were locked inside the house.

Charlotte ran down the
stairs with her bag. She didn’t even waste time checking the door. She ran
straight to the window in the living room. It was the easiest one to open. She cursed
when it only opened approximately six inches. No matter how much she tried, it
wouldn’t go any further. She inspected it to see why it wouldn’t budge any
further and found a heavy nail embedded in the timber frame.

“Fucking bastard!” she
screamed into the empty house.

No way in Hell was she
going to let that stop her. She grabbed the bottom of the open windowpane with
her hands and launched a kick at the wire-meshed screen. It was flimsy and went
flying out onto the grass.

“Fuck you, Logan,” she
whispered, as she pushed her bag through gap onto the lawn.

Six inches wasn’t much,
but Logan may have overestimated how much room a desperate Charlotte might need
to escape. She was a slender girl, always had been, and she was truly motivated
to do this.

She took a deep breath
then braced herself on the windowsill. Once she got her head through by turning
it to the side, she squeezed the rest of her body through the gap as she
wriggled her way through on her belly. She used her hands to crawl all of the
way out before falling face first onto the grass and laughing in triumph.  

She was relieved to find no
one was watching her as she stood up and brushed herself off. It had been a rather
awkward and unflattering maneuver. It also would've looked extremely suspicious
to be squeezing her way out of the house through a window as if she were a very
confused burglar.

Adjusting her hair and
clothes then closing the window behind her, she picked up her backpack and
flung it over her right shoulder. Her heart was beating quickly, and she was exhilarated
at the thought of escape. It was such an exciting moment for her. She'd dreamed
of this moment for so long.

Her parents lived a four-hour
drive away and she had no access to a car and no money to her name. Yet she set
off happily, just thrilled to be out of the confines of the house that had
served as her prison, and on her own. As she walked onto the tree-lined street,
she became increasingly paranoid that Logan would come careening around the
corner and catch her at any second.

She was sweating in less
than a minute, even though it wasn’t hot by any means. She had no cash, no
possessions, nowhere to stay and in an hour and a half, it would start getting
dark. What on earth was she going to do? She hadn’t spoken to any of her
friends in nearly a year, not even by e-mail. She knew where they all lived.
Well, she knew where they had been living the last time she'd spoken to them.
They could've easily have moved somewhere else during that time.

What if my friends don’t
want to see me? What if they gave up on me and were angry that I rejected them?
Could I just turn up unannounced on their doorstep, begging to sleep on their
sofa?

She hesitated on the
corner of their street, wondering whether she should just take the easy option,
turn around and go back to her prison. Charlotte suddenly thought she knew how
prison inmates felt after years of confinement. It was the easy option. She knew
she had food there, a roof over her head, a husband who took care of her…
well,
in some ways, most of the time…
who claimed to love her more than anything
in the world.

NO!
She shrieked inwardly.

He's not my husband!
He's my prison guard…and a dangerous psychopath at that. I was merely his
possession, his sex slave and prisoner!

She was suddenly quite angry
with herself for even considering going back. She shook her head in disgust.
She couldn’t believe after all of her agonizing, after everything she'd been
through, she'd even consider turning around and going back to it all.

No, no, no, no…
She repeated to herself.

More determined than ever,
she broke into a fast stride, heading in the general direction of the center of
town. She carefully stuck to back streets. It was far too dangerous to be
walking along the main roads. If Logan drove past her, he'd surely spot her.
She shuddered to think of what he'd do to her if he found her trying to escape.
That would be taking control away from the psychotic control freak.

She cursed herself
silently for not planning her escape better. She really needed a car and they
had two of them. There was really no excuse for her to be on foot right now.
She could've easily procured the keys and hidden them. She figured if she’d
managed it with the office key and the filing cabinet key, it couldn’t have
been too much more of a problem.

She realized how ill
equipped she really was. She'd just hadn’t thought this thing through. So
focused on simply getting outside of the actual house, her planning seemed to
consist of that and only that. She really should've put some time and energy
into getting somewhere safely once she was successfully outside of the house.

As she walked, Charlotte
became lost in thought about her sham of a marriage. Thank God, she never had
his child to complicate things any further. She was amazed she hadn’t gotten pregnant.
Of course, he'd accused her of secretly going back on the pill. However, this
time she genuinely wasn’t. She was too frightened to try it again. Besides, she'd
been locked up without any chance to leave the house, call, text or contact
anyone outside, how could she have done it?

Perhaps she didn’t even
need to take the pill. She'd started to believe either her or Logan were
incapable of conceiving. The thought had comforted her, but the threat of
pregnancy still weighed on the back of her mind every time he'd had sex with
her. She knew if she'd conceived, she might never have found the strength to
leave him.

None of that mattered
now, she told herself on that cool fall evening. She'd finally left him and she
wasn’t going to go back. A plan began to solidify in her mind. It got cold at
night; she couldn’t exactly sleep out on the streets. After much thought, she
decided Bethany was the answer to the question of where she should go.

Charlotte knew where her
apartment was, or at least where it had been. The hardest part of going there
wouldn't be asking for charity, but admitting she'd been so terribly wrong
about Logan. She'd been blind when all of her friends had seen through him so
easily.

However, she knew she had
to bite the bullet and show up with her tail between her legs, admitting her
huge mistake. Desperate times called for desperate measures. She was certainly
desperate…and currently homeless. She chose her life, safety and freedom over
her pride.