Page 11 of Domino
His eyes narrow and his jaw clenches as he stares into mine. “The only thing dragging me down is your fuckin’ attitude. And that’s gonna change, Ashley. I’m tired of your bullshit. Tired of—”
“Then why not just go our own ways?” I interrupt. “Instead of making each other miserable, and making our son miserable along with us, let’s think about him for a change and just part ways amicably.”
He remains silent for several long moments, my pulse racing even harder than before. His eyes are rimmed red and bloodshot, it looks like he didn’t sleep last night. Which makes sense, given the way he smells as well. That’s not unusual. Most nights, he sleeps in the recliner in the living room watching TV, anyway.
I honestly can’t remember the last time we shared a bed. To sleep, anyway. He’s made me have sex with him, though that’s always a dicey proposition since between the booze and the pills, he has a hard time even getting a hard on, let alone keeping it up. On those nights he can though, my skin crawls, I feel physically ill, and I have to just grit my teeth, close my eyes, and pretend I’m somewhere else.
“You’re mine. Cole’s mine. You both belong to me,” he hisses. “And I ain’t lettin’ either of you go nowhere. Do you understand me?”
When I don’t answer right away, Ryan grips my face tighter, and I wince. The pain is sharp and makes my eyes water. I kick myself inside, trying to shut out the pain, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.
“I said, do you understand me?” he repeats.
“I heard you, Ryan. Okay? I heard you.”
He grips my face even harder for a moment, staring hard into my eyes, before letting go of me. He turns and stuffs some snacks into his backpack before zipping it up and snatching it off the counter. As he slings it over a shoulder, he turns to me.
“I’ll be back at some point this afternoon,” he says. “I want the house clean and I want you to cook a roast for tonight.”
Yeah, fat chance of that happening. But there’s no way in hell I’m going to say that, so I simply nod as demurely as I can manage. He walks out of the kitchen and I hear him rummaging around in the closet. I step into the doorway just in time to see him pulling out his rifle case. He checks the latches on it, then turns and heads for the front door. Ryan doesn’t say anything as he walks out, slamming the door behind him, and I move into the living room, standing to the side of the window as unobtrusively as I can, so he can’t see me.
My stomach and heart both fluttering wildly, I watch at the window as Ryan’s truck pulls out of the driveway and rockets down the road. I chew on my bottom lip as I pace the room, waiting for the phone to ring. And when it does about ten minutes later, I damn near jump out of my own skin. I’m wound way too tight right now, but I think I can be forgiven, considering the circumstances.
“He just picked up Rory,” Maggie says. “It’s time to go. Pack up that precious angel of yours and get out of there, hon.”
As Maggie tells me that Ryan picked up her boyfriend for their hunting trip, hesitation and uncertainty take hold of me and I fall silent. Gripping the phone tightly, I pace the living room, my face flushed and red.
“Ash. This isn’t the time to get cold feet. You’ve got a window, but it’s not going to be open long. If you’re going, you need to go. And believe me hon, you really need to go. If not for yourself, do it for Cole.”
Her words stop me in my tracks for a moment. The sound of Cole chattering away in his bedroom as he plays with his toys fills my ears, and tugs at my heart. A thousand thoughts collide in my mind, pulling me in a thousand different directions. My eyes well with tears and I feel a hitch in my chest.
“Is taking him away from his father the right thing to do?” I ask.
“If that father is as terrible as Ryan is, then yes. It absolutely is.”
“But—”
“Think of the example he’s setting for Cole, hon. Is that how you want your son growing up? Do you want him thinking the way Ryan treats you is normal?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then what’s the hold up?”
A sigh bursting from my mouth, I start pacing again. As much as I’d like to say it’s hard to put into words, or that I don’t know, the truth is, now that we’re here at the place where the rubber meets the road, I’m terrified. I’m really standing on the verge of taking my son and running away. Starting a new life somewhere else. I’ve got no job, no prospects, and though I have a place to run to, it’s temporary.
I have no means of providing for my son. I have a paltry bit of money, but that’s not going to last very long. And what then? How am I going to feed my child? How am I going to get us a place to live? I won’t be able to give him the basics. What kind of a life is that for Cole?
Yeah, his father is a horrible person and would undoubtedly be a horrible example for him, but at least here, I don’t have to worry about him going hungry. For all of his faults and flaws, and there are many, while we’re not living the high life here, at least Ryan provides for his son. But out there, on my own? How am I even going to do that?
“Ash?”
“I’m here. I’m here,” I say, my stomach twisting itself into knots.
“You need to get moving, hon. We don’t know how long they’ll be out there,” she says. “For all we know, they’re going to go have a beer and come home. You need to be out of there before they get back.”
Pressing my hand to my forehead, I keep pacing the living room, running through all of the different possibilities in my mind.
“Ash. Honey. Do you really want Cole to be like Ryan when he’s his age? Because if he grows up with that as his major influence, that’s exactly what he’s going to turn out to be. You know that.”
