Chance (23 page)

“Send it,” he said.

Charlotte hit the send
button. He immediately took the cellphone back, ensuring she wouldn't receive a
reply from her parents or be able to send any more messages.

 “Now we can be a family
again,” he smiled an unnerving, insincere smile.

Then, almost as if he'd
read her mind, he added in a low and guarded tone, “I'll always find you, you
know? There's nowhere for you to hide from me. I'll always find you and bring
you back. But, if you ever try to leave me again, I'll go to your parent’s
house and I'll kill them both with my bare hands. Don’t think I won’t.”

Charlotte looked at him
horrified, her mouth opening and closing with no words coming out. She knew his
threats about ruining her father’s reputation had been lies. He didn’t have the
information he claimed he'd use against him. This threat was different. She totally
believed him. She knew he was capable of that.  

After his hideous threat,
it was a long time before Charlotte would even think about leaving him again. The
thought of him killing her parents was simply too hideous and terrifying to
fathom or risk.

Charlotte finally shook
off her doubts and rushed to the wardrobe. She had to move quickly and move
now. Enough daydreaming and feeling sorry for herself. Yes, a chance meeting
had led her to this mess, but only she had the power to get herself out of it.

The threat he'd made to
murder her parents was ever present in her mind. This time, she had a plan. She
needed a car. It was impossible to do anything without one. She'd drive directly
to her parents’ house, explain the situation and beg them to either contact the
police or leave with her. They could all run away together. They could go
somewhere else and start a new life in safety, away from him.

Charlotte snatched her
bag from the wardrobe and ran down the stairs without a second look.
Not knowing how long it would be
before Logan returned, she didn’t want to take any more chances. She wanted out
of this nightmarish prison NOW!

Charlotte picked up a
large vase and smashed the living room window. Ever since her last escape, he'd
kept every window in the house sealed and locked, as well as the front door. Breaking
the window was a desperate measure, but the only one she could think of that
would truly set her free. The glass had been the last physical barrier standing
between her and the outside world she longed for.

She used the another vase
to punch out the rest of the glass, hoping none of the neighbors had heard the
noise and report a break in. She couldn’t think of anything worse than getting
caught by the police before she could escape. If it happened, she'd tell them
everything, knowing full well the skill of Logan’s silver tongue.

She still had a small
bruise on her face from when he'd last hit her. It was a regular occurrence now,
him striking her. Her faded bruises would serve as evidence of his domestic
violence.

She scrambled through the
window and dragged the bag out with her. Then she raced to the car, which
thankfully, was not in the garage. Finding the remote would've been yet another
huge obstacle. With shaking hands, she unlocked the passenger door and threw
her bag on the seat. Paranoid thoughts began to run through her head.

What if he'd had a
silent alarm installed on the house? Logan or his henchmen could be racing back
to the house this very second.

With her stomach
churning, Charlotte ran to the driver’s side door. She pulled it open and got
in as quickly as possible. She was scrambling to insert the key in the ignition
when she heard a faint siren in the distance. She instantly dropped the keys onto
the floor and moaned in horror as she bent over with her face squashed up
against the steering wheel as she felt around blindly for them.

By this time, she was so
panicked she didn’t notice the sirens were now receding. Her hands finally
grabbed the keys. She jammed the correct one in the ignition and pulled her
door shut. She started the car and slammed the transmission into reverse, the
tires sent up a hail of pebbles as she screeched backwards, onto Logan’s
precious lawn. The wheels spun on the grass as the car jumped forward, back
onto the driveway. It had been so long since she’d driven a car, it felt very
unfamiliar to her.

She managed to pull to a
stop at the gates to check for oncoming traffic before speeding out onto the
street. She turned in the opposite direction of the way Logan always went. The
last thing she wanted to do was to run into him on the road.

She could hardly think
straight as she drove, not paying attention to where she was going. She just
wanted to put miles between her and the house. She'd worry about working out a
route when she felt safer, but not before.

She knew she was speeding,
but she didn’t care. With every mile she drove, she felt just a little safer.
Her heart was pounding in her ears with the excitement and adrenalin of finally
being free. This was it. She'd never go back. She'd tell her parents what had happened;
about the way he'd kidnapped her, raped her and threatened to kill them. They'd
protect her and themselves.

She'd report him to the
police and he'd be brought to justice for the various criminal acts he'd
carried out. He wouldn’t be able to bother her or her family ever again. She
felt happier than she could remember—well, since the last time she'd escaped
from his grasp, but she was somehow more resolute this time. Charlotte knew
what lengths he'd go to in order to get her back and to keep her, as well as to
exact his revenge. She'd be ready this time.

As she took a left to
head onto the freeway, she failed to check her blind spot. She heard a horn sounding
from somewhere behind her. Then another car in front of her slammed on its
brakes. She was driving way too fast and she started to lose control. She
swerved to avoid the car that was coming up behind her and then swerved again
to avoid colliding with the vehicle in front of her. This resulted in her car
facing straight into the oncoming traffic. She slammed on her brakes.

Time slowed and she saw a
car speeding at her. Its tires screeched as the driver slammed on her brakes.
Charlotte had even seen the other driver was a woman with stark red lipstick on
her lips as her mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ of surprise, just as their vehicles
slammed into each other.

The airbag blew in her
face and Charlotte saw nothing else.

***

She began to regain
consciousness, slowly becoming aware of flashing lights, blaring sirens and people
speaking. She blinked a couple of times. People were standing over her. Pain.
She felt pain. So much pain. She closed her eyes again. She could still hear
voices, but only occasionally.

Then she was suddenly
aware of movement. She felt herself being moved. She heard and felt the engine
of a vehicle. More sounds—sirens and lights. All just meaningless sensations
surrounding her, assaulting her senses. Then once again, nothing.

Sometime later, she was
awoken by a soft, gentle beeping sound. It was persistent and constant, but not
annoying. In a way, quite the opposite. She tried to open her eyes. It was
difficult at first. Her eyelids felt heavy and weak. She continued; battling
against the urge to keep them closed. Her natural curiosity drove her onwards
although her body seemed to crave unconsciousness.

Finally, she managed it.
She opened her eyes. She quickly closed them again. The lights were too bright,
too glaring and white. She lay there a little longer. Yes, she was definitely
lying down, she thought to herself.

Upon realizing she
couldn't open her eyes, she decided to play a game. She began to focus her
attention on each of her other senses, attempting to make herself more aware of
her surroundings, of what was going on. She was still full of curiosity about
where she was and what was going on.

She continued to hear the
rhythmic beeping sound. Whatever she was lying on felt soft and comfortable.
She tried to waggle her fingers. She succeeded. Then she moved her left hand,
raised it up a little and then down again. That too, felt heavy and sluggish.
Once more, she opened her eyes. It was easier this time, now that she was more
fully awake.

This time, she was also
determined to keep them open. She rapidly fluttered her eyes, blinking back the
light, forcing herself to adjust to it and to bring her eyes into focus. She
glanced around. She was in a room. A pale, cream colored room. It was small and
bare. She couldn’t understand what she was doing here, what had happened.

She cast her mind back,
trying to remember what had happened to her to solve the mystery of where she
was.

Logan. I'd been
running away from Logan. I’d taken the second car. I’d just gotten onto the
freeway…

Of course. It all came
back to her in an instant. There’d been an accident on the highway. Her. She’d
been involved in a car accident. She’d crashed the car. She had to be in the
hospital. She sat up, or attempted to.

A nurse came rushing over
to her from out of nowhere, pushing her gently back down onto the bed.

“You’re awake,” she
smiled at her. “The doctor will be in to see you shortly.”

Charlotte opened her
mouth. Her voice came out croaky and weak. It hurt a bit to talk.

“Wh-what happened?” she
asked, still confused.

“You were in an accident
on the freeway. Don’t you remember?” the nurse asked.

“A little,” she said.

“Just rest,” the nurse
told her kindly, before leaving the room.

Charlotte focused on a
framed print on the wall opposite her bed. It was a painting of the sea. The
colors were bleached out of it, as though it had been on the wall for years and
years. She knew she should feel alarmed, but whatever drug they’d given her for
her pain was very relaxing. It seemed to sap any urgency from her yet she could
still think, albeit not very clearly.

Being in the hospital
meant she was vulnerable. It wouldn’t be long before Logan knew exactly where
she was. Even through her mental fog, that was a troubling thought for her. She
needed to be safe from him.

As promised, a couple of
minutes later, the doctor came in. She stayed focused on the painting as he
helped her sit up on her pillows. He took a pen light from the top pocket of
his coat and shone it in her eyes, one after the other, before sitting down on
the chair beside her. He began to explain everything to her. She was only half
listening. She’d broken some kind of bone in her leg and had a few cuts and
bruises and a concussion, but no permanent damage. Apparently, she'd been very
lucky.

“What about the other
people involved?” she asked, realizing she was the cause of the crash due to
her distractions over Logan.

“They’re all fine,” he
assured her.

“Sorry…what…did you say
your name was?” she asked him groggily, finally looking at him. He'd said it
earlier, when he’d introduced himself, but she’d been so out of it, she hadn’t remembered.

“Brett Devlin,” he said
kindly.

That name seemed to echo
around in her skull. She recognized it but couldn’t quite grasp the memory or
place it. He was very handsome, with darkish blonde hair that fell over his
forehead, deep, warm brown eyes and a pleasant smile. Charlotte focused on his
teeth for a moment. They were perfect.

He looked like such a
kind man, she thought. She had the strangest feeling she knew him somehow. She instantly
relaxed; feeling as though she was a million miles away from the tense, uneasy
feeling she got whenever she was around Logan these days.

“You have nice teeth,”
she said, randomly.

He laughed softly.

“Thank you. You’re
probably still feeling a little funny from the medication, but I need to ask if
we should contact anyone about your accident, Mrs. Tyler? Your husband? Do you
have his number?”

Panic gripped her,
cutting through the medicated fog in her brain.

They were going to
contact Logan. Then he'd know where I am. He'd find me. He'd take me back to his
prison. He might just kill me this time! No! I can't go back!

“No,” she said quickly.
“It’s fine. Thank you. Just…when can I leave?”

She had to get out of
there as fast as possible. She had to get to her parents before he carried out
his threat to kill them. Before he discovered where she was and came for her.
She knew he'd be contacted by the police, about his car being involved in an
accident.

“A couple of days or so,”
he told her. “We’ll need to run some tests on that bump of yours, on your head.
It's just standard procedure. There's nothing to worry about. You should be
fine.”

The bump on her head wasn't
what worried her. However, Dr. Devlin was quite insistent she couldn’t go home
before then. He asked her again if there was anyone she wanted them to contact
and when she refused a second time, he smiled at her and said he'd be back
later to check on her.

She didn’t want him to
leave, but she nodded silently and didn’t protest. She knew he probably had many
other patients he had to check on. She wasn’t the only one in the hospital.

Later on, they brought
her some horrible, plastic tasting food she had a hard time getting down. She
was propped up on a couple of pillows while watching television on a small
screen that was hanging over her bed. It was a nice enough hospital and they
made her feel comfortable, but she couldn’t stop worrying about Logan showing
up.

This fear played on her
mind continually. Sadly, they were soon realized when Dr. Devlin returned a few
hours later and informed her her husband had been in touch and he was on his
way to visit her. Despite the drugs she was on, she began to panic.

Oh, my God! I'm so
vulnerable here. I'm a sitting duck. Will he hurt me while I'm in the hospital?
Will he somehow manage to kill me? Could he just grab me and kidnap me again,
bringing me back to his prison to be raped and tortured?

Tears sprang to her eyes
and she looked away. The doctor seemed to pick up on it immediately and came to
her side.

“Is everything okay, Mrs.
Tyler?” he asked. Sincere concern was present in his voice.