2. Laurie

Iwas worn out. I'd had a hell of a day at work. I stayed late, and I was sure Tommy was going to be furious with me. There were plenty of leftovers for him to eat, things I cooked earlier in the week for him, but that wouldn't be good enough. He always wanted a fresh meal, and he wanted me to put it on the table for him. I brought my car to a stop in the driveway and blew out a long breath as I cut the engine. Why was I here? Why hadn't I already run? I could've just kept driving and gone anywhere.

Except I didn't have enough money to last long, and I'd have to find another job if I didn't want him to find me. How the hell was I going to do that in this economy? I'd lost my parents when I was twelve, and the family I'd had left couldn't wait to get rid of me when I turned eighteen. I didn't have any local friends. He'd made sure of that.

I could call Beck, but it had been so long since we'd talked, and every time he'd offered help, I'd denied there was a problem.

I caught sight of myself in the rearview mirror and realized the makeup I'd applied so carefully that morning was starting to fade. I could see the bruise along my cheekbone. I hoped like hell no one at work had noticed.

I couldn't tell if Tommy was home yet or not. He always parked in the garage; I wasn't allowed to. He said his expensive car deserved protection, but since mine was just a piece of shit, it stayed outside. There was room in the garage for two fucking cars if he'd just move some of his shit out of there.

I'd been trying to save money, knowing if I was ever going to get away from Tommy I needed enough to live on for a while. I'd stupidly let him take over my finances after I moved in. He knew how much money was expected to come in, and he monitored it like a fucking hawk.

At least he did when he wasn't too drunk, but getting him drunk on purpose was a risky endeavor. The more he drank, the more likely he was to get violent like he had last night.

I was scared he'd track me down and kill me if I left him. But if I stayed, the situation was going to kill me eventually, one way or another. How the hell had I gotten myself into this mess?

I unlocked the door and walked inside. I heard noises coming from the kitchen. Cautiously, I moved in that direction. When I was nearly there, I saw the source. Tommy was fucking the hell out of Martin, one of the guys I worked with and someone I thought was at least a casual friend. Apparently, he just wanted to get to know me so he could get under Tommy.

Martin was sprawled over the counter as Tommy stood, pistoning him with rough strokes. Martin was crying out, squirming, thrashing. I couldn't tell if he was trying to get away or if he was begging for more. When he saw me, he tried to push Tommy away as he yelled, "Laurie's home."

Tommy looked over his shoulder and fucking smiled.

"What's going on?" I hated myself for saying the words as soon as they were out.

Martin struggled, trying to free himself, but Tommy pinned him down, gripping his hips so tight his knuckles went white. "Don't you dare move."

"But Tommy, he?—"

"Shut up." Tommy turned to me. "I left work early. You were supposed to be home. When you weren't here to do your duty, I found someone who would. If I can't get what I need from you, I'll have to replace you, and then where will you be?"

Had that been an option all along? I wanted to pack my things before I left, but I knew my best chance of getting out was to just go. I hadn't been stupid enough to keep my cash reserves in the house. I'd slipped away one day during my lunch break and opened a bank account on my own. I'd also set up a safe deposit box for a few important documents, and I kept a gym bag with a change of clothes and a few essentials in my car. I had my ID and my phone on me. Most of the clothes I had were ones Tommy decided to dress me in. I could live without all the things in this house, and I could sure as hell live without Tommy, no matter what he thought.

I looked at Martin. "He's all yours."

When I turned to leave, Tommy yelled, "You can't just walk out on me like that."

"If you're replacing me, then there's no need for me to stay."

"I hope you realize you're not getting shit from me. Don't you even try asking. If you walk out, you're not ever coming back."

I nodded. There was so much I wanted to say, but I wouldn't take that risk. He could change his mind any second. The best thing for me to do was to get as far away as I could before he did. I opened the door, then slammed it behind me as I ran to my car. I started the engine, threw it in reverse, and backed out so fast my tires squealed. I was finally going to get away.

Later that night, I sat on the bed in a cheap motel room eating a pack of crackers I'd gotten from the vending machine. What the fuck was I going to do now? Walking out had felt good. I was glad Tommy had fucking cheated on me. I was glad I'd walked in on him and Martin because I don't know how else I would have managed to escape. But I was terrified to go back to work. Would he come after me, or was it really over?

Call Beck.

I wasn't sure if I could. We'd met at the University of St. Louis and become close friends before I'd had to drop out because I couldn't work enough to pay tuition and keep my grades decent. I'd always intended to go back, but when I ended up with Tommy, he told me it was a waste of money. Why had I ever listened to a word he said?

Because he was gorgeous, because at first, he treated you so well, and because he's a damn good manipulator.

And I was a damn good doormat.

Beck had more money than God, and I knew he could fix every one of my problems. He'd offered to pay my tuition, but I'd told him no. He swore I'd given him far more by being a true friend, but I hadn't done that expecting anything in return, certainly not thousands of dollars. I didn't want to be indebted to him. Clearly, I was a fool. I'd refused to let him give me anything, then turned around and accepted gifts from Tommy until I became beholden to him.

Even then, Beck had offered to help me. He'd told me he considered anything he did for me a gift. The money he spent would have meant little to him, but I'd never been comfortable with our wealth disparity. I started talking to him less and less, especially once I was completely under Tommy's thumb.

Except now, I really needed someone. Beck was the one person in my life who had never done anything to break my trust. He was one of the few true friends I'd had since I was a little kid. People often thought we were dating because we were so close, but things had never been like that with him. We'd first gotten close when he needed someone to talk to after a bad breakup. After that, he'd truly wanted to hang out with me as a friend with no other agenda. That was fucking refreshing.

Could I make it on my own? All I had were a few changes of clothes and basic toiletries. That wouldn't get me far. I needed to get out of St. Louis. I'd be safest if I was far away from Tommy. I would never be safe if I was where he could attack me or try turning on his charm again. I wanted to believe I'd never be manipulated by him again, but if I was desperate enough, if it was a matter of survival, I couldn't be sure how strong I would be.

It's okay to need help.

Beck had told me that so many times, but I'd never really believed him, even though I'd believed so much bullshit from Tommy.

I pulled out my phone and tapped Beck's name before I could talk myself out of it.

What were the chances he would even answer? It had been months since we'd talked and that was just by text.

My breath caught when he accepted the call.

"Laurence? How are you? I've been thinking about you and wanting to call." Beck had always called me by my full name. I wouldn't have liked that with anyone else, but with him, it just fit.

"I'm…" tears started running down my face. "I'm not good."

"What did that bastard do?" He'd given up the pretense of trying to like Tommy long ago.

"I left him."

"Thank God. Are you all right? Did he hurt you?"

"Not physically, not tonight."

"But other times?"

"Yeah." I knew Beck had never believed me all the times I denied that Tommy had hit me or pushed me down.

"Tell me what happened."

"I got home from work late, and Tommy was fucking a guy on our kitchen counter, a guy I thought it was my friend."

"Son of a bitch. I could make him disappear."

I didn't doubt that, knowing the money and power behind his family. "No. I don't want you taking any risks like that."

"If he comes for you. If he?—"

"Just let me explain."

Beck sighed. "Okay."

"Tommy basically told me that because I was late getting home he had to fuck somebody. Apparently, Martin was ready and waiting. Then he said if I didn't start doing better, he was going to have to replace me. I told him that was fine with me, and I left."

"And he let you just walk out?"

"He yelled at me, telling me if I left I could never come back, telling me he would never help me again."

"He's done nothing to help you, only to hurt you."

"I know. You might not believe me, but I truly do."

Beck sighed. "I'm sorry. I just hate seeing you hurt."

"Well, I'm out of there now, but I had to leave all my stuff. I've saved up a little bit of money. I've been trying to get enough so I could leave, but I don't know if I can go to work tomorrow. He could show up there."

"Where are you right now?"

"I'm in a motel."

"Are you safe?"

"It's not the best place, but it will do. I couldn't spend any extra."

"Money is not an issue," Beck said. "I have you covered."

"You shouldn't have to?—"

"I want to. I've wanted to help you for years. Just let me. You did so much for me in those weeks after Susan cheated on me. I was a zombie and you made me laugh again."

I lay back on the bed and stared at the crumbling ceiling. "That's not…I just did what any friend would do."

"Trust me, that's not true."

"I don't even know what to ask you for. I need a place to live and a job and?—"

"You're going to start by taking some time to relax and think. You deserve a vacation."

"That's not an option."

"Yes, it is. You're going to call in to work and explain that there's been an emergency, then you're going to go get a nice hotel room with the money I'm about to send you. And in the morning, I'll send along a plane ticket to Aruba."

"What the fuck?"

"I was supposed to be spending two weeks in Aruba, but something came up with my internship, and I have to start early. Worth will be there, but the villa I rented is huge. You won't even have to see him much if you don't want to, but he'll be there if you need anything."

Worth? His gorgeous older brother? The one I couldn't stop staring at when he visited during our freshman year? The man I often fantasized about to this day? "No, I can't do that. You can't —"

"The villa is paid for, and I can pay for your tickets with points if that makes you happy. You can agree to my plan, or I can come make you agree."

Was he serious? "What are you going to do? Kidnap me? Force me onto a plane?"

"If I come get you, I'll have a private plane. That'll make it a lot easier. In fact?—"

"Just send me the ticket." I didn't have other options, and who turns down a free Caribbean vacation?

"You need a chance to relax. It's an all-inclusive resort, so you won't have to worry about anything there. Everything will be provided for you. God knows you deserve that after everything you've been through."

"Beck, I haven't even talked to you in months, and now you seriously want to do all of this for me?"

"That's why you called me, isn't it? Because you knew I would help you. It doesn't matter how long it has been since we talked to each other."

"Why are you so fucking nice to me?"

"Because you're a great friend."

"But I've been ignoring you, hardly saying anything when you reached out to me."

"You were being manipulated and abused. The fact that you didn't have a lot of energy left over to keep up our friendship is understandable. I'm here to help, and I want to give you something nice. I'll call you while you're in Aruba, and we'll figure out the best way to get you back on your feet."

"Thank you. I don't know what else to say."

"You don't need to say anything."

"When do I need to leave for Aruba?"

"In two days."

"You're kidding?"

"No, I'm just glad you called when you did."

"I'll be fine. I don't have anything clean to wear to the airport, but?—"

"I told you I'm sending you some money. Get a better hotel to stay in and get yourself some clothes. You can buy more once you're at the resort."

"I shouldn't accept all this."

"For once, let me help you. Please."

I had reached out to him. What had I been expecting? "I'll never be able to pay you back, not for the kind of stuff you want to buy me."

"This isn't a loan; this is a gift."

"Thank you, Beck."