“If something ever happens to me, you are to find our attorney. He’ll tell you what to do.”
Her chest ached at her father’s last words that he’d spoken to her over the phone. She hadn’t expected them to be his last. She’d learned that fate was cruel. Her father had been killed in a car crash, yet his words had stayed with her.
When she showed up, the attorney didn’t say a word, just led her into his office and gave her an envelope. He’d left the room while she poured the contents onto his desk.
Car keys to a funky Ford, a key to a safety deposit box, a new identity and a thousand dollars in cash were stuffed inside the manila envelope, along with a handwritten letter from her father.
Dearest Jennifer, I left this in case I was no longer here to help. Now is not the time for tears. Now is the time for courage, bravery and action. Dearest, I want you to know I am always with you, watching over you from above. You’ll have to start over someplace new. You’ll have to stay hidden until it’s safe. You’ll know when it’s time. Stay hidden until he’s not looking for you. Until then, take the safety deposit box key to the National Bank of Idaho in Boise. Use the money to start a new life.”
She traveled west in order to put as much distance between her and New York as possible. She used her cash sparingly and when she was almost out she went to the bank in Idaho to retrieve the money her dad had left. She was shocked to find over a hundred and fifty thousand dollars in cash shoved into the box. Thankfully she’d brought a duffle bag with her to carry it out of the bank.
Grace had thought she was in love when she’d met Michael Case. She’d been a dancer in the New York Ballet and had been waiting tables to make ends meet. Michael had come into the restaurant late one night and had charmed her from the start. She was impressed by his generous nature and the lavish lifestyle he led. The abuse didn’t start until three months after she’d moved into his Manhattan penthouse.
Their first fight happened when he told her she needed to leave the ballet. She’d told him he was crazy and that she’d never quit. Ballet had been her dream since she was a little girl. He didn’t like her answer. He’d beaten her, fracturing her leg. She’d passed out from the excruciating pain. When she came around she was in the ER with Michael at her side. He’d whispered that she was to tell the doctor she’d fallen off a horse, . then threatening to kill her if she didn’t obey. So, she’d lied.
After her leg was put in a cast, he took her back to his penthouse.
He’d proposed a week later. Still reeling from his violent attack, she didn’t speak. His blue eyes changed colors, like his mood, and she knew he was about to hit her. She’d said yes to avoid his abuse. The next day she called her father when Michael wasn’t around.
Her father told her to get to his attorney’s office in Connecticut immediately. He said he’d meet her there.
Just as she was packing, Michael strode into the bedroom where she was busy throwing clothes into a small bag. She looked at him and placed his engagement ring on the dresser. The ten carat princess cut stone set in platinum was worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. Her freedom was worth far more.
He beat her until she lost consciousness. She remembered feeling the pain of her own ribs cracking as he kicked her while she was curled up in a ball on the floor. He rained down blows until she blacked out. The last thought she had was praying to die.
She woke up in a hospital, hooked up to machines. When the doctor asked how she got such injuries, Michael told him she’d, once again, fallen off a horse and was dragged. Before Michael left the hospital he made sure to shove that damn ring on her finger as a reminder of who she belonged to.
She sucked in a deep breath as she forced those horrible images away.
Even in her freedom, she was still trapped in the hell of her memories.
***
The sun dipped low in the sky, casting the last rays of daylight across the small town. Most of the stores had closed for the day and only the few cozy restaurants on Main Street were still open. Grace pulled her car to the side of the street and glanced down at the address scribbled on the card. According to the address, Allison lived above the antique store on Main Street.
Grace grabbed the cake platter and opened her door. She knew she’d better take the dish back to Allison before she came looking for it. It didn’t help her peace of mind when Sloan had shown up unexpectedly on her doorstep. She decided to be preemptive. Armed with a map of the town and Allison’s address, she quickly found the apartment.
Grace walked around the building on Main Street and eyed the aged wooden steps leading up to the loft apartment.
A single Adirondack chair and small table adorned the small stoop. A green plant perched in the middle of the table, its vines trailing over the sides in a green cascade.
Grace held her breath and knocked.