Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
That is why I know it is over without any doubts.
I don’t remember the good times anymore. When I think of the scales and how they tip … the good no longer outweighs the bad. His love and adoration to my son doesn’t give him a free pass to hurt me.
The first times he called me names or shook me around; I explained it away. Isn’t that what people do for someone they think they love? He always apologized. At first, they felt sincere, but in reality, they were mere words. I hoped the chaos inside him would calm. I could be strong while he was weak. He would see I was a safe space and this would improve. When nothing seemed to help or change, I began to explain it to myself. He has a brain injury. It is actually very easy in my mind to justify everything he did to me. Even now, I have to tell myself there is no brain injury that makes it okay to literally choke me to the point of passing out.
Leaving didn’t simply make him stop. His torment continues the more he keeps trying to have me back.
If only he would let go.
He can live whatever life he wants.
Without me and without my son.
Why can’t he let us go?
“Josie, I need to see you. We need to talk.”
No, we don’t. I have told him this repeatedly. The thing about Brett, no matter what, if I’m not telling him what he wants to hear, then he ignores it. “Sara is coming, I need to go. She needs to do my employee review.” I lie, no one is coming, and I don’t even know if Sara will come to this office today.
Sara is my boss. She handles all of the Sandhills and Coastal regions of North Carolina Agriculture. She does live in Sampson County; therefore, she frequents our office more than the others. However, her job requires her to travel. While Brett has met her, they aren’t in the same circles. He won’t question her about me. More than anything, this may give me the escape of this conversation. I know Brett and he will continue to push me to see him and frankly, that isn’t going to happen no matter how much he wants it. I made a promise to myself, on my son, he would never have another opportunity to put his hands on me again. It’s one promise to myself I refuse to break. There isn’t a doubt in my mind, if he gets the opportunity to kill me, he will.
Then where does that leave Justice?
“Funny you say that. Her car isn’t here, Puppet.”
I fight to swallow the lump of fear lodged in my throat. He’s here. He’s watching me. “Brett, you can’t be here.” I hate the tremble in my voice.
“Public building, Josie,” he replies before suddenly the line goes dead.
I look to the ceiling praying my tears won’t fall today. Once again, the safety of my office is ripped from me just like he’s taken the security of me being in my home. How can I get through to this man, we aren’t getting back together.
Ever.
Three
Raff
California Sober – Post Malone and Chris Stapleton
* * *
“Needed me some diesel,” I sing along with the music playing from the speaker mounted in the corner of my garage. Making my way to the back of the Chevy truck sitting in my driveway, I resume my attempt to remove the latch. Fucking piece of shit tailgate latch broke.
The 1964 Chevy C10 truck was my dad’s. I don’t drive her often because I prefer the freedom of my bikes. However, when I decide to get groceries, I do take her out. The single cab doesn’t leave much room for bags, but I had to make it work when this latch broke.
I continue to sing along to Post Malone and Chris Stapleton as I give my attention to the truck. I back it into my driveway without using the garage to park it since I keep my bikes in there. Out of the corner of my eye, her red Chevy Blazer in catches my attention as she backs into her driveway.
Really, it’s our driveway. The only two houses in the entire neighborhood with a shared driveway. It’s the strangest set up, but our houses sit in the middle of the cul-de-sac, our mailboxes in the dead center. From there a huge concrete slab is laid that eventually splits going to her converted garage space and to my actual garage. We have grass and room between our houses, but this odd shaped shared driveway connects us.
Josie and Justice are home.
This might be the dumbest thing I’ve ever gotten myself wrapped up in. Don’t let friends of friends close in, the lines can get crossed and well, it may not go well. They literally moved in this weekend. I thought about introducing, or I should say re-introducing myself, but decided against it. I met her briefly at Country Boy and Sara’s house. Country Boy and I had been cleaning up after a hunt when Country Boy invited me to hold over and eat with them. Next thing I know this woman and her kid are there.