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725 Words
C H A P T E R F I V E
E S C A P E
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S O N G: F I N A L W A R N I N G
SKYLER GRAY
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Listen to the song and repeat till the end of the chapter
I breathed in deeply, tying back my pin straight hair. He made me straighten it, said it was too 'wild' and like me, would have to be tamed.
I pick my son up as he cries and touches my face with a chubby hand. Trying to hold back a wince, I smiled.
He's inquisitive and intuitive, my boy. He picks up in things, so he frowns, crying more.
It's humiliating. The fact that my son sees his mother getting her ass beat; It's humiliating.
Plastering a smile, I kiss his cheeks.
"Mama's okay, sweet boy. Mama's fine."
Only Mama's not fine.
Nothing is fine.
I have had it.
I warned him. I didn't have to say anything. He knows what he's doing is wrong and, in my book, that is warning enough.
Now, he's going to get hurt. Someone's going to get hurt. And this time it won't be me.
If he thinks I have ever entertained bowing down to him, he's more screwy than I originally thought.
He took me in before I knew I was pregnant; the only reason I stayed so long was my son. I couldn't leave, that's his leverage.
When I was pregnant it was always do what I want or get the baby beaten out of you.
When he came out he threatened to shoot him. My baby.
I had to work. I have money saved, but not enough, not enough to last long. I needed more. Now my Addison is nine months old.
He understands more. He's less temperamental. He can quietly occupy himself.
And most importantly, if I tell him to stay quiet, he will.
Now is the time.
Before Addison is traumatized like I was.
This is my final warning.
Whether he heard it or not, isn't my problem.
"Good morning, honey." I greet him with a smile and breakfast.
He grunts in reply.
"Oh! I'm sorry honey," I sigh sadly when I see him having trouble with a particularly tough piece of steak.
"Let me get a knife and cut it for you,"
"Hurry up you useless piece a s**t!"
I only smile.
Retrieving a butcher knife, I come back squatting beside him, I cut just how he likes.
Only, not the steak.
I lean back, plunging the knife into his thigh, twisting roughly. I don't let go until he pulls me back by my hair and slaps me.
All I do is sit up, shake it off, and come at him again. Perhaps if this was the first time he'd done this, I'd be too shocked to move.
But as it is...
"You b***h," I smile ironically. He's bleeding out of a hole in his leg and yet, he deems it a valuable use of his energy to insult me.
"Likewise," Wildly, I swing at him, making him howl in pain as I cut away at him.
Sometimes the blade came in contact with his skin; others not.
In end, he's a bleeding, howling mess, immobilized.
I spit on his striped body, grab my son, my cash, his car and got the hell out of Dodge.
The first thing I do is take a calculated risk.
Navigating the car to the club, trace my steps to the McDonald's, and hope my memory serves from there.
Then, I find the most expensive car he has and steal it. Time stands nearly still as I wait, slowly cruising the streets.
My heart jumps and flips when I hear sirens as they trail me to the side the road their chargers screeching to a stop.
I come out with my hands up.
"Get down the ground, ma'am!"
I do it.
"Is there anyone else in the vehicle?"
"My nine month old son,"
The officer trains his gun on me, motioning to his partner to check if my statement is accurate.
"She's telling the truth."
"Where's he?" I hear an enraged but familiar voice seethe.
"Well Mr. Kane," the officer starts.
I sigh, turning slowly, my hands still up with a smirk.
"Hello, Rich Boy."
- Writer
