Escaping From Hell
Chloe's POV
I opened my eyes and looked at the clock; it was just after midnight. I turned to the other side and saw my husband sleeping peacefully next to me. I looked at the bottled water on his bedside table; it was finished. He fell for the bait.
I got out of bed and pulled out a pair of leggings and a hoodie under the bed. I went to my side of the closet and pulled out a duffel bag, I packed up a few things. I opened the drawer and pulled out the fake bottom.
I took out my burner phone, my fake ID and passport, and some cash, fifty grand. I walked downstairs as peacefully as I could, hoping that my husband wouldn't hear me. This is the only chance I have.
I went to the monitor on the wall and saw the security footage; the guards were doing their rounds as scheduled; I just had to wait a few minutes. I hid behind the couch and watched from the glass door as they finished up.
I waited for them to go to the other side of the house, I quickly disabled the alarm and opened the door. I ran as quickly as I could to the other side of the house, careful not to make a sound.
I got on top of one of the rubbish bins and climbed the wall, I went to the other side and jumped off. I ran to the far end of the street. There was a car parked on the corner. The lights went on and off. It was Tessa, my best friend. She was waiting for me like she said she would. I ran to the car and went inside.
" Go!" I said to her frantically.
She drove us out of the property, I didn't say anything until we reached the highway.
" Are you okay?" she asked me.
" Yes, I am fine. Just take me out of here," I said to her.
Tessa and I have been best friends since childhood. She always had my back. When my father walked away to marry another woman and have another family, she was there for me. Always by my side.
Then we went to university, we had such big dreams, such big plans for our futures. When my dad left us, he left me scarred in more ways than anyone could imagine. I was only eight years old.
I remember when I went to visit him and his new family in another state; they made me feel unwanted like my father didn't love me like he loved his stepdaughter. The man took her out on father-daughter dates, something he never did for me.
To say that he ruined Christmas for me would be an understatement. When I went back home, I promised myself that I wouldn't go to his new home again. I have stayed true to that promise for over a decade. I haven't seen or spoken to him since then.
So after that, I didn't trust men at all, and then in my first year in university, I met him. A guy who came from England, I don't know if it was his accent or his blue eyes that caught me first, but the guy was handsome.
He was handsome, a bit rough on the edges, a playboy who rode a Lamborghini Gallardo to campus. He liked to wear black clothes, I wondered what kind of lawyer he would be. He didn't look like what you would expect from a man studying to be a lawyer.
He was so charming at first and made me feel special like I was the only woman he could ever be with. He told me about his estranged relationship with his mother and how he never knew his father.
I thought that we could heal each other, that we could build each other, with everything we went through as kids, we looked like a perfect pair. So when he asked me to marry him, I didn't hesitate to say yes to the man.
Then we got married and moved to another city, far away from everyone, including my best friend and my mother. He isolated me from everyone. Back then, I was too stupid and too much in love to see that I was being love-bombed.
I fell hard for this man, so much so that I ignored all the red flags. They had always been there. Like the time he beat up some guy in the club, just because the man asked if he could buy me a drink.
In the man's defense, the guy was drunk, and his friend apologized on his behalf; Derrick felt disrespected even then. He almost killed those men.
Or when he almost killed my class partner when he saw us together after class, talking and laughing about the lecture. I didn't realize it then, but he had always shown me who he was, I just refused to see it.
Perhaps I always knew what he was capable of. Maybe I didn't think it would happen to me. Like the time he almost broke my arm for allegedly flirting with our waiter one time or the time he grabbed my throat too tight during s*x and asked me if I was sleeping with the gym instructor because he saw the way, he was looking at me.
Many other incidents followed. It got worse to the point where I had to quit my job because he thought that I was sleeping with my boss and my clients; he told me that the money he was making was more than enough and made me feel guilty about having my own independence.
After that, things just became worse. This time, he left bruises. Even then, I couldn't see it. If anything, he played with my mind, made me feel like I was crazy, like I was imagining things.
I remember the time we went out on a holiday at some resort on a tropical island. I wanted to learn how to surf; the instructor was a man. I might not have seen it, but my husband said that I let the man touch me inappropriately.
I thought that he was going to beat me up and leave bruises like always, I suppose that would have been better, instead, he tied me up and forced himself on me, sodomized me to a point where I bled and couldn't even sit down for days, even then, he made me feel like it was my fault.
He made me feel like everything that he did to me was my fault. He never took responsibility for anything. Then, a few months ago, I realized that he wasn't going to stop, not until I was dead.
We argued that night; I told him that I was going to leave him, that I had had enough of his abuse, and the next thing, I woke in the hospital with a broken rib, a fractured arm, a busted lip, and a concussion.
When I woke up, I was confused and didn't even remember what had happened; he told me that I had fallen down the stairs. I didn't believe him then, even without my memory, I knew he did something to me.
Then, a week later, I started to remember bits and pieces until one day, it all came down on me like a flood; I remembered everything he did to me. I didn't fall. He beat me up and then lied about it.
You see, that man is a smooth talker, and not only that, the whole town thinks that he is a saint. On the outside, my husband looks like a good man, but he hides his true self behind his expensive suits and his devilish smile.
I knew that no one would believe that my husband was abusive, and I knew that he would find a way to turn this around and blame it on me somehow like he always does; that is why I stayed with him and took it all in.
My husband is a dangerous man; he doesn't know that I know that he has a bad past, that the man would do anything to get what he wanted, that made him dangerous; I was afraid of my husband, afraid to leave him because I thought that he would find me.
Then, two months ago, I went to the doctor for a simple check-up, and she told me that I was pregnant. That just scared me even more; I knew then I couldn't stay in my marriage anymore; I had to leave for the sake of my child.
So, I reconnected with my best friend; I told her everything that happened and asked for her to help me; one thing we could agree on was that my husband was never going to let me walk away from him.
So we came up with a plan, putting together the perfect plan to escape him. She got me in contact with one of her guys. He got me a new identity and an untraceable phone. Now, I am ready to begin my life elsewhere.
We drove for about an hour; we reached a bus station; I took my bag and got out of the car. Tessa gave me the bus ticket.
" Are you sure about this? You can come with me, spend the rest of the Christmas holidays with us? I am sure my boyfriend won't mind," she said to me.
" Tess, you have already done so much for me, I will be fine at the cabin. He won't find me there, that is the only place he won't find me at," I said to her.
" I am glad we connected Chlo, I'm so sorry that I didn't fight for our friendship," she said and hugged.
" Don't apologize, neither of us knew things would go like this, I love you, thanks again," I said.
" Stay safe and call me as soon as you get there," she said to me.
" I will call you, I promise," I said to her.
Just as we were standing there, the bus came, and I got on it. I sat and looked outside, I waved at Tessa as it pulled away. At that moment, I felt like I could finally breathe for the first time since I married Derrick.
I don't know when he is going to wake up; I doubled up on the dosage to take him out; I had to make sure that he wouldn't wake up and catch me trying to run away from him again. have My hand went to my stomach.
" We are going to be fine," I said gently and rubbed my belly softly. In eight hours, I will be in another state, a couple of hours out of New York in the woods where no one can find me, not even my husband.
I know that the drugs will be out of his system by then, and he will begin his hunt. Knowing Derrick as I do, I cannot fool myself into thinking that I was safe, that he wouldn't find me.
Even with everything I had done to get away from him, he wouldn't stop looking for me, and if he found me, he would make me regret leaving him even more if he found out that I didn't tell him about the pregnancy.