No longer would Shea allow herself to be a prisoner to this nightmare. She was escaping before it ruined more of who she was and stole from her the one thing worth living for.
Shea filled the suitcase to bursting, dropped to her knees, and grunted as she forced the zipper closed, another wave of terror pounding adrenaline through her blood.
Desperately, she whispered to the baby growing in her belly, “I’m going to take care of you. I promise, I’m going to be the best momma you could ever have. Just you and me.”
Just you and me.
Shea climbed back to her feet and drew her phone from her back pocket. She just needed to hear a sane voice. Someone there to remind her she wasn’t completely alone in this world that threatened to rip her apart. A reassurance that what she was doing was right.
Quickly she dialed her uncle Charlie.
He answered on the first ring. “Shea Bear.” Relief was evident in his heavy exhale. “You on your way, sweetheart?”
“Almost…”
Shea looked around the closet, gauging what she could grab in the short window she had. “I have to pack a couple more things and then I’ll be. I should be there by daylight.”
The trip from Nashville to Savannah was just shy of an eight-hour drive.
“Be careful, sweet girl. I’ll be right here waitin’.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, that simple statement filled with so much, so much gratitude to the man who she knew was saving her from this life.
She ended the call, hauling the overstuffed suitcase behind her out into the bedroom.
Moonlight filtered in through the transparent drapes, the darkened room cast in shadows and memories and regrets.
Shea’s gaze slid unwelcomed to the plush bed made up of satiny linens. Her stomach turned with nausea at the thought of ever having shared it with Martin Jennings.
But she’d be taking one good thing from this awful mess.
In the end, this baby was the only thing that mattered.
She grabbed the large duffle bag she’d already packed and slung it over her shoulder, maneuvered the suitcase over the thick carpet to the dresser against the far wall.
Her jewelry box rested on top of it.
It was chock-full of diamonds, gold, and gems—all tokens of this flashy, false life. But the only things she was after were the heirlooms her grandmother had left her when she’d passed—her ring and the matching necklace her grandfather had given her on their wedding day.
She opened the special bottom drawer where she stored them.
A noise clattered from the other side of the house. At the sound, her head jerked up. Freezing cold slid down her spine.
Then that noise was eclipsed by pure foreboding silence.
No.
Shea swallowed and slowly turned as the hairs at the back of her neck lifted. Craning her ear, she trained her attention out beyond the bedroom.
Listening.
Fear tingled as a flash of goosebumps swelled across her skin.
She could sense it.
Smell it in the air.
The stench of evil.
Something wicked coming her way.
Just outside the door, the wooden floorboards creaked. Shivers vibrated uncontrollably through her limbs, and she fumbled backward and bumped into the dresser.
The jewelry box rattled.
It was as if the sound was the strike to a match.
The bedroom door burst open, and her heart took off in a wild, thundering sprint.
There were three of them, all dressed in black, masks over their faces, wild eyes staring at her through the dingy duskiness of the room. Slowly, they encroached.
A tiny whimper trembled from her tongue, eyes darting between the three of them. One stood out from the others, taking a step in front, and a shocked cry jutted from her mouth when the malicious blue eyes stared her down.
The fierce need to protect her baby shot through her in a panic of survival.
She spun and raced for the bathroom door.
All she had to do was get to that door and lock it behind her.
There was a window—a window to her escape.
Shea pushed herself as hard as she could go.
But the man in front was faster.