My heart was pounding as I took off toward my car. That fucking asshole. I would make sure he paid. No one hurt my sister or those kids and lived.
“Just stay calm,” I told Celine. “I’m on my way. Where are the kids?”
A sob escaped her, then a sniffle. “All three are in my bathroom. I told them to lock the door.” Her voice was so shaky, I could barely understand her.
Rage bubbled up inside me. I’d given him the benefit of the doubt, and I’d let my guard down.
I’d come here to help her, to be here for her to lean on. Then I’d gotten so caught up in my own drama that I’d neglected to see what was really going on.
“Just breathe,” I said, channeling a calm I didn’t feel as I sped down Route 16. “And call the police.”
“No,” she cried. “I can’t. It will make everything worse.”
Peering up at the sky, I prayed to my mother to give her the strength to leave him. To finally realize she had to get far away from that asshole and give her children the life they deserved. She needed the police, a restraining order, and an excellent legal team. I could help with most of that, but not until she took the first step.
“I never thought he could be dangerous.” She sobbed. “Sure, he yells a lot, and he’s always accusing me of the most ridiculous things, but this?”
My hand shook as I gripped the steering wheel. I wanted him dead. My instincts were never wrong, and I’d had an inkling for a long time that he was an abusive piece of shit. She’d never come right out and said it. Had I pushed too hard? Or not hard enough?
“You either need to get the kids and leave the house or call the police. We don’t know if he’ll come back.”
I drove, silent, while Celine composed herself, her stuttering breaths slowing and evening out. “I’m gonna go get the kids,” she said.
Staying on the phone was the best idea, but they needed her. They were probably terrified. “Okay. I’ll be there in ten minutes. Just stay calm.”
“I’m scared,” she said, her voice trembling like it had when she was a little girl.
“Celine, I love you, and I love those kids. Please, I’m begging you, call the police. I’ll stay on the line while you do it. I don’t care what he’s said or done. The line has been crossed, and there is no going back. It’s time to be strong.”
“I don’t know if I can,” she sobbed.
“I have faith in you,” I said. “You’re just like Mom, and if she were here, she’d say the same thing. You are incredible, and you’re so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. We’re here for you.”
“Okay.” Her voice was reedy and weak. “Love you.”
Relief flooded me. “Love you too.”
I waited on hold while she called. For several minutes, the line was quiet, but when she clicked back over and said “police are on their way,” her voice sounded less shaky. “I have to end this.”
My chest swelled with pride for her. “If anyone can do it, you can. And you’re not alone.”
We stayed on the phone until I could hear the sirens in the background. Relief flooded my veins. “Okay,” I told her. “Go talk to the police. I’ll be there soon.”
Guilt tore through me as I navigated the winding mountain road. I’d come back to Maine to strengthen my relationship with her, to support her the way she deserved. And I’d gotten so distracted with Gus and the Hebert Timber and the baby. My stomach lurched as I thought about what could have happened tonight. And I vowed I would never let anything like this happen again.
Along with the guilt, bile rose in my throat, and then my stomach was twisting painfully. Shit. The sun was almost fully set, and it would be dark soon. This wasn’t an ideal time to pull over onto a country road, but I had no other choice as my festival food threatened to make a reappearance.
Slowing, I pulled onto the shoulder. There wasn’t much of one—this road was cut right through the forest—but it was my only option. The second the SUV came to a stop, I threw it in park and jumped out of my car to retch.
This was a new low. I was puking and flailing and scared, and people I loved were in danger.
Celine needed me, yet I was stuck here, heaving my guts up. The police were there, and she was in good hands. I knew that, but that didn’t ease my fears.
I’d had a plan, God dammit.
I was ruthlessly organized and executed each task with precision.
How had everything gone off the rails so spectacularly?
Holding tight to the bumper, I bent at the waist and threw up again. It was a pleasant reminder that I was not as invincible as I thought I was.
Finally feeling as though I could get in the car and continue to Celine’s, I pulled myself upright. Only when I did, my stomach bottomed out.
Holy Shit.
Ten feet away from me, standing in the middle of the road, was a moose. A big one.
My entire body trembled. This was bad. Very bad.
It was a bull with a huge rack of antlers, though he seemed more curious than aggressive.
Slowly, I inched around to the front of the car.
Was he watching me?
He didn’t move from his spot in the road, so I kept scooting, not taking my attention off him, holding on to the car until I reached the passenger side door. Heart racing, I jumped in, slammed the door, and hit the locks.
