Protecting My Hart (Protectors Series Book 1) (7 page)

BOOK: Protecting My Hart (Protectors Series Book 1)
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“Deal.”

“Goodnight, mi Tesoro. Te amo. Sweet dreams, Hartley.”

“Goodnight, Slyde. Sweet Dreams.”

It’s been almost three months since I was attacked and since Slyde left. I haven’t gotten my period for a few months, and I’m freaking out. I’ve taken a test I bought a while ago when I thought I could have been. I bought more than one, thank God because now there is no way anyone would take me to the store. Things still haven’t been that great here. JD doesn’t speak to me, he yells. I don’t get attacked but I am used as a personal blow job machine. Although, it’s not just personal, it’s for the whole damn crew, but only if they catch me out of my room. So I try not to leave unless it’s really late at night or early in the morning to get food. A few of the guys will come into my room and drag me out. If I fight it, I get bruises. I’m definitely not safe here anymore. Scratch that. I stare down at the bold blue plus sign on the test.
We’re
not safe here anymore.
Shit
. Now what do I do? My hands rub over my stomach where my baby is growing, and my eyes fill with tears. I’m happy, but I’m also completely terrified. I don’t know how to be a mom, but I guess I don’t have much of a choice. I have two options: one, I tell JD about the baby on the off chance he might be happy about it, or two, I run like hell as far away from here as I can get. However, with option two, I have nowhere to run to and no money to run with. It’s not just me anymore, and I have to keep my baby safe. Option two it is.

Planning what I’m going to take makes me sad. I’m not going to be able to take all my belongings, and as much as I would love to bring my books, I just can’t carry them. I know where JD keeps cash, so if I wait until the middle of the night, I can pack some sandwiches and grab the money and leave. I would have a few hours at least before he noticed I was missing, and seeing as how he hasn’t bothered me for days, I could potentially have longer. So, tomorrow night I make my run, it’ll give me a little more time to prepare. With the test in my hand, and the other on my stomach, I walk back into my room. The door flies open, and JD storms in. I freeze and stop breathing. He glares at me, and then his eyes fall to my hands.

“What the fuck is that?”

“Um.”

“Is that a fuckin’ pregnancy test? You fuckin’ got yourself pregnant?”

“Yes.”

“Motherfucking hell. What the fuck did you do?”

“I know you’re not happy. I can just leave. You won’t have to deal with me anymore.”

“Leave? You’re not fucking leaving.”

“It’s OK, JD. I can just go.”

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! “Bitch, did you not just hear me? You are not leaving!” he screams as I fall back on to the bed.

“Please, JD. Please just let me leave.”

In a flash, JD is straddling me, his hands around my throat, squeezing tighter. I’m gasping for air, my hands wrapped around his wrists trying to loosen his grip.

“JD, stop.”

“You are not leaving. You belong to me, I decide what happens to you, where you go and when. You are not having a kid either. Ain’t got time for that shit. You hear me, Hart? You. Belong. To. Me. I decide. You ain’t leavin’.”

He presses tighter then releases me. Crying and gasping, I suck in as much air as I can. SMACK! SMACK!

“I’ll deal with this shit tomorrow. Take you to a clinic. Have this problem taken care of.”


No!
I won’t do it. I’m not getting rid of my baby!” I jump up off the bed again.

“Fuckin’ slut, you will do as I say!” His fist slams against my cheek knocking me to the floor. His foot connects with my still sore ribs, and knocks the wind out of me. “Don’t fuck with me, Hart. I ain’t in the mood for your fuckin’ shit.” With that, he walks out of my room, slamming the door behind him.

I stay on the floor simply because I can’t move. My arms cradle my stomach, sobbing, gasping for air, and praying that he didn’t hurt my baby. Slowly, as my breath returns, I climb onto my bed. I have to leave tonight. I won’t let him force me to kill my baby. I am so in love already, I’ll do everything in my power before I let any harm come to my child. I’ll die first. The plan stays the same, it will just happen tonight. Slowly, I get up. Grabbing a duffle bag, I pack as many clothes as I can along with some bathroom essentials. Next, my backpack. I toss in a sweatshirt and flashlight and a small blanket, leaving room to put sandwiches and a couple water bottles. I also grab my wallet out of my drawer. I’m really upset I can’t take more stuff with me, but it’s just not going to be practical. I pack only things that I’m going to need, but the one thing I do grab that I don’t need, is the Teddy Bear Slyde gave me the last night before he left. Nobody has ever given me anything like that before. I know that it’s just a child’s toy, but it was the sweetest gift I could have received, and now I have a child I can give it to later. With my bags packed, I leave them in my closet just in case I get another visit tonight. Now I just lie in bed, waiting and listening for the noise on the other side of the door to quiet down. My plan, depending on how much money I can grab, is to either make my way to the airport or to get as far away from this house as I can get. I have to find a job and a place to live. I also should probably see a doctor at some point to check and make sure my baby is OK.

I can’t believe I’m going to have a baby. I have no idea what to expect or what I am doing, but hey, women have babies every day right? Surely I can do this too.

The noise seems to have died down. Quietly, I leave my room and head to the kitchen. I quickly make four sandwiches and grab three water bottles from the fridge. Going back to my room, I pack them in my backpack and place both my bags outside my window. Then I sneak back down the hallway to JD’s office, silently listening for any noise—all I hear is the sounds of sex upstairs. Reaching for the bottom drawer of his desk, my hand lands on the box in the back. Pulling it out and opening it, I count out about twenty-five hundred dollars. This will get me to Montana for sure. Stuffing it in my pocket, I replace the box and close the drawer. Back in my room, I take one last look around, say goodbye to my books, and climb out the window.

With both of my bags slung over my shoulders, I head into the woods to the creek and follow it. The moon is high and bright, lighting up the way, but not too bright that I’ll be spotted. I’m careful, watching and listening for anyone following me. I have to stay focused and get as far away as I can before the house starts to wake up. I try not to think about it—I will just become paranoid. I think the part that upsets me the most is the fact that I will never see Slyde again. I could have left a note, but if JD went through my stuff then he would track me down. Not that Slyde would go looking for a note; I’m not sure he will even care if I’m gone. He might be relieved, actually, to not have to babysit me. I know that he was just being nice, he was always nice.

The creek has led me to a road which I follow and eventually end up in town. The anxiety is starting to lessen, but not by much. I can’t stay here at all—too easy for him to find me—but I do need to find a place to hide for at least a day before I can get to the airport. Walking down the street, I try to stay in the shadows. The uneasy feeling of being watched and followed hasn’t left, it’s been there since I made it to the creek, but I couldn’t find anyone following me. The feeling is getting stronger now and I’m not quite sure what to do, so I just keep a tight hold on my bags and keep walking. Suddenly, there is a loud crash behind me causing me to jump and let out a small scream, but when I turn around nothing is there. Turning back around to continue my walk I’m overcome by a large man, his hand clamps over my mouth, his arms wrap me tight, and drag me into the alley.

“You fucking little no good whore, you should have never left. You had a good life. Now you get what you deserve,” the voice growls in my ear. It’s familiar, but because of the sheer terror consuming me, I can’t place it. I feel cold metal sinking into my side, pain exploding. “Fucking cunt.” Again on the other side, and I cry out. “Worthless piece of shit.” I’m sinking to the ground, and again I feel the pain in a different spot. “Trash.” Pain again. “You’re nothing, you never should have left.” Again the cold metal sinks into my body, but I don’t have the energy to scream—I can barely breathe. Satisfied with the damage he has caused, he gets up and walks away. My body fights for breath but is quickly losing the battle. I close my eyes, and the last thing I see before the darkness takes over my head is Slyde’s smile. The last thought that passes through is,
Momma is sorry, my little baby. So sorry. I love you.

Darkness.

Five Years Later

I see her across the street, I call her name. She stops, turning to look at me. Her lips form a wide smile, and it’s the most perfect thing I have seen in five years. I start to run across the street, but the distance between us continues to increase. I run faster but still don’t get any closer.

“Hartley!” I call out again. Her smile begins to fade, her eyes become sad. I keep running to her, but I’m not getting any closer. Tears fall from her eyes as she turns around and walks away. I can’t catch her.


Hartley!”
I yell out again. Suddenly, I’m awake and breathing heavily. The light comes on, and Beamer comes around the corner.

“You OK man?” he asks sleepily, but his eyes are razor sharp and watching me intently.

“Yeah. Just a dream.”

“Hart again?”

“Yeah, this time I see her across the street. She smiles, and I run to her, but I can’t get any closer. She starts to cry and then walks away.”

“Slyde. Man. I don’t know what to say. We’ve been looking, we can’t find her. She literally disappeared; there is no record of a Hartley Jackson for the last five years, even been looking in Montana.”

“I know, man. I appreciate it, and I keep looking too. I just wish I knew what really happened. Why she left. She didn’t leave me anything, any indication at all. It’s like she didn’t want me to find her.”

“Maybe she didn’t.” Beamer answers and I glare at him. I see the concern in his eyes too. “Or she might not have had time to leave you anything telling you where to find her. From what you have told me about her, it’s entirely possible that she figured you’d never
want
to look for her.”

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