Vicious Carousel (Suncoast Society #25)(2)

Today, she’d scraped her ankle bloody in the process, but she’d made it, freed herself from the damn chain.

Then, he’d surprised her, came home early, enraged that his manager at work was giving him hassles. She’d sat on the end of the chain, hiding what she’d done.

Unfortunately, she’d had to sit there while he’d pounded her with his fists, unable to defend herself as he took his frustrations out on her.

When he finally finished hitting her, he left her there while he headed for the shower. Then he’d emerged from the shower, took another swipe at her, and left for his other job.

She knew in her heart if she was still there when he got back, he’d do worse to her.

She stayed where she was, perched motionless on the couch, long after she’d flinched at the sound of the door slamming and the echoes of his car driving off had faded from her mind. She waited, waited.

Waited.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d gone off, and then snuck back to try to “catch” her doing something not allowed.

Finally, when over an hour had passed and her feet had gone numb from sitting like that, she slowly, painfully leaned forward, onto her hands and knees, and flopped onto her side.

Feeling began to flood into her feet and lower legs, painful pins and needles. She started flexing her feet, her toes, until she could finally sit up. The world spun and she had to lie down again. When she felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her, she forced herself back up into a sitting position and dared to put weight on her feet.

A new round of pain shot through her, sending adrenaline coursing through her veins as her heart pounded. Her head hurt, so, so bad.

But she’d done it. Despite the bloody furrows in the flesh of her right ankle, she stood, free of the chain.

Slowly shuffling, and with her head held at an angle to keep from tipping over, she trailed one hand along the wall for balance as she headed for the bedroom. The only thing Jack hadn’t taken from her was her purse.

Probably because there wasn’t anything of value in it. She had her driver’s license—not that she’d been allowed to drive in months—and her Social Security card.

Fortunately for her, she’d had fraud protection put on her accounts because of a skimmer getting her debit card number once at a gas station.

She pretended she didn’t know how to take it off, so Jack hadn’t been able to open any new credit cards in her name. She’d only had one credit card at the time she’d met him, and before she’d moved in with him, she’d used the refund on her apartment security deposit to pay it off.

Without telling him first, which she hadn’t thought she’d needed to at the time, and it had earned her a punishment caning.

At the time, he’d followed it with what had felt like a loving, cuddling session, with him reminding her that, as her Master and Owner, she had to run everything through him first.

She’d been in the wrong, or so he’d convinced her at the time.

Betsy found her rolling carryon bag under the bed and managed to drag it out, using the bed to climb back to her feet. She grabbed underwear, shorts, jeans, a couple of shirts, and a pair of shoes. Even though she had the phone numbers memorized, she found the bra in her drawer and dug the small piece of paper out of the hiding spot, where she’d kept it hidden, just in case.

After pulling on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, she managed to get her feet into a pair of sneakers. Then she had to sit on the bed for a moment, because…dizzy.

And…

She didn’t know why she was so sleepy. It wasn’t even…

Carefully turning, she looked at the clock on the bedside table.

Holy shit.

Somehow, it was now nearly ten o’clock. She didn’t know if she’d passed out on the couch earlier or what. That meant Jack had actually been gone nearly six hours already.

But she had to get moving. If she didn’t, he would beat her mercilessly for getting out of the chain.

She grabbed her purse and the carryon bag and headed for the front door. After a moment of fumbling, where she was afraid maybe she wouldn’t be able to get it unlocked, she pulled it open and stared around, in shock that she was, finally, free.

Well, sort of.

She pulled the door shut behind her and locked it with the only key she had since Jack had controlled her life. Yes, she had a few things inside the apartment, some books and photo albums she wanted, but her life was more important.

Getting out wasn’t an option anymore. It was mandatory.

She pointed herself toward a convenience store a few blocks away. She didn’t dare knock on anyone’s door. Jack had threatened her that if she went for help, to be aware that he’d already bribed several of them that they would call him.

That was more than likely a lie, and she knew it, but she wouldn’t risk it. It felt like she didn’t know anything anymore. What was real, what was lies Jack had told her.

Nothing made sense anymore.

She had heard all the warnings when she got into the lifestyle. Had seen people do stupid stuff. She thought she was smarter.

She thought she knew better.

She thought she was special. Well, even Jack had told her how special she was, and he was able to smooth over every red flag she thought she spotted with such finesse that she didn’t know which way was up.

She thought he was going to take care of her.