Covenant Child

by Terri Blackstock

  I was shivering by the time we got back to the house, but I didn’t want to make a scene out in the yard and let everybody in Barton find out that our marriage was already falling apart. I held myself together long enough to get inside. But the moment the door was closed, I turned to him.

  “What happened to my thousand dollars, Rudy?”

  He looked at me like I was crazy. “It’s right here. We spent a hundred tonight, but the rest is—”

  I slapped it out of his hand. “Not that thousand dollars! The money I gave you for the lawyer! Where is it?”

  “I gave it to him, just like I said.”

  I got up in his face, my teeth gritted. “You’re a liar, Rudy. Lizzie was right.”

  He looked startled, caught . . . busted. Then slowly, his lips tightened into a snarl. He came toward me, a murderous look in his eyes.

  He showed me what he thought of my defiance with a backhand across my face.

  If he’d thought that would turn me into a purring kitten, he was wrong. I lunged at him, my own fists flying. I was ready to kill him if I had to.

  He balled his hand into a fist and hit me again, cracking my jaw. I rolled on the floor, clutching my face. “I hate you!” I cried, trying to get up.

  He kneed me in the nose, and his fist pounded my face again. Blood dribbled from my nose and mouth, and one of my eyes started swelling.

  I should have shut up then, but I had never felt such burning, lethal rage in my life. “You’re a liar and a thief!” I staggered to my feet.

  I grabbed the telephone and started dialing, but he jerked the phone cord out of the wall and threw it down with a clang.

  I spun around and grabbed for the lamp on the table. I was ready to use it in any way I had to, and he knew it. I waved it over my head, waiting to strike, as I backed toward the front door.

  He inched toward me, his eyes wild. I knew if he reached me, he’d kill me. There was no doubt in my mind.

  “Don’t you come near me or I’ll crack this over your head,” I said in a voice that didn’t even sound like mine.

  He came at me anyway, not showing one ounce of fear. He grabbed my arm, but I jerked away. Pulling my last bits of strength together, I crashed it over his head. He fell back, dazed, and I took the opportunity to bolt out of the house.

  There was no time to get to the street or flag down help, so I headed for my woods. I stumbled through vines and tripped over branches, knowing that it was my territory, and he wouldn’t be able to navigate his way through. I came out at the railroad tracks and ran across ties and ballast, fleeing for my life.

  I was gasping for breath by the time I got to Deke and Eloise’s trailer, but I fell onto the porch steps and banged on the front door. “Let me in! Please, let me in!”

  Deke swung the door open and gaped down at me. “What the devil happened to you?”

  I fell inside the door. “He beat me! He’s a thief and a wife-beater and a liar.”

  “Girl, what happened?” Eloise had her wig off, and her hair stuck to her scalp like a greasy cap.

  “I just need to lie down.” I stumbled toward my room. “Let me just stay here for a few minutes until I figure out what to do.”

  “Sure, sweetie,” Eloise said. “You go lay down, and we’ll take care of everything. Deke, you have to call the police.”

  They were only being nice to me for the money. I knew that. No one was ever decent for any other reason.

  I headed for the bedroom I had hoped never to sleep in again. But here I was, back with the couple that had held me hostage when I was too young to defend myself. It was all about money. It was always about money.

  If I was worth so much, why did I feel so worthless?

  I closed the door behind me and crawled onto the bed, curling up and swallowing the blood in my mouth. I was pretty sure my jaw was broken, and several of my teeth were loose.

  “Lizzie,” I whispered, wishing she were here beside me. I thought of calling her, but Deke and Eloise didn’t have a phone, and the cell phone was at Rudy’s house with my things.

  Then I heard a car door slam, footsteps banging on the front porch, a fist hammering on the door.

  “Let me in!” Rudy’s voice thundered through the walls. “I want my wife!”

  To my horror, Deke opened the door. The money, I thought. Deke would defend me because of the money. He wouldn’t let Rudy come in because of the money. Surely he could muster some courage because of the money.

  I heard words exchanged. Then that stomping across the floor again, and the door to my room flew open. I covered my head with my arms and screamed as I scooted back against the wall.

  “You little witch! You thought you could get away from me, didn’t you?” He grabbed me up and lifted me off of the bed. I fought like a madwoman, but he was stronger than I was.

  He carried me out past Deke, who just stood there like the coward that he was, and threw me into his car. I screamed and wailed and cussed, but Rudy twisted my arm behind my back.

  “You shut your mouth or I’ll break this arm,” he said through his teeth.

  I had no choice but to shut up. I hoped he would release my arm before it did break. It felt like it was going to snap right out of the socket. Every time I tried to squirm out of his reach, he jerked it harder, making me arch and yell out with pain.

  “Why are you taking me back?” I asked him. “Why wouldn’t you let me leave? You got what you wanted from me. You have my money.”

  “Not all of it. I’m your husband, and I’m going to get that estate when you get it. We’re in this together. After that, you can go anywhere you want to, but the money is mine.”

  We got back to his house, and he dragged me out of the car and up the porch steps, threw me onto the living room floor, and bent down over my broken face. He squeezed my broken jaw with deadly fingers, and I thought I was going to pass out. I hoped I would. He was going to kill me anyway, and I wanted it to be quick.

  But it wasn’t.There was just more riveting, stabbing, nauseating pain, and he was enjoying it. I tried to fight my way up, but he wrestled me back down and hit me again. “Are we clear on the lawsuit?”

  “Yes.” I sounded like a wimp. I hated myself for not standing up to him, but the pain was making me weak.

  “Good.” He got up, and I thought he was going to let me go. I struggled to get to my feet, but before I could get upright, he kicked me in the side, crushing my ribs.

  I fell back to the floor, hugging my ribs and screaming.

  He dragged me back into the bedroom and threw me into the walk-in closet. I hit the floor, and the door slammed.

  A key rattled in the lock. I got up and flung myself at the door. “Let me out of here! I’ll do whatever you say . . . Please, Rudy. We can work this out!” I screamed until my voice was shot, and finally I collapsed on the floor. My side felt crushed, and my jaw was swollen and locked. My teeth hung loosely in my tender mouth, and my eye had swollen shut.

  The television came on at top volume, and I knew it was no use screaming anymore.

  At that moment, I thought it was over. I was as good as dead. I wished I could leave a note for Lizzie and tell her that she was right, that I should have listened, that she was the smart one.

  I knew he would hold me here until the lawsuit was settled and the check was deposited, and then he would kill me and bury my body in some hole in the ground, where no one would ever find me.

  Lizzie would never know.

  I was wrong . . . so wrong. I could be living in that mansion with Amanda, in that room she’d prepared for me. I could be learning and growing. I could be loved . . . and maybe it wouldn’t all be about money.

  But I had chosen the lie.

  As I lay there, waiting for Rudy to come back and finish me off, I started thinking how great it would be if I could get out of here. If I had just one more chance . . .

  I knew I’d insulted Amanda, shamed her, and she had probably washed her hands of me. I knew I couldn’t expect h
er to sweep into town in a limo to pick me up again. But maybe I could get to her. Maybe I could go to her and offer to work in that house and pay my way. If I earned my keep,maybe she would take me in. Maybe she would forgive me then.

  I sat up and took trembling inventory of my wounds. I got my feet under me and staggered up. I found the light switch, and the yellow bulb lit the closet. Frantically, I searched for escape. I caught my breath as I saw the small, narrow window at the back of the top shelf. I hadn’t noticed it before. Rudy hadn’t lived here long; he probably hadn’t noticed it, either. He never would have thrown me in here if he’d known.

  I looked around for something to stand on, and my eyes scanned the clothes hanging there. My own few things hung beside his . . . two waitress uniforms, the dress I’d married him in, a couple of pairs of jeans.

  My heart stopped as I saw the cord dangling out of the pocket of one of my aprons, and I remembered that I had left the phone there. Almost weeping in gratitude, I grabbed it out.

  I punched the power button, my hand trembling, but there was no charge.

  It was worthless unless I could get to an electrical outlet.

  I looked on the top shelf, saw a hard suitcase and three boxes. I took a coat hanger off of the rod and, reaching the suitcase, slid it quietly off of the shelf until I could grab the handle.

  The TV still blared in the bedroom. I got the suitcase to the floor and set it under that window. Trembling, I stepped up onto it, then reached for those empty boxes. They weren’t heavy—they held only a few items of clothing that Rudy hadn’t unpacked after he moved in. I pulled them down, then stuffed them with clothes from the hangers so they would bear my weight. I stacked one on top of the other, then put the suitcase on top.

  Slowly, gritting my teeth against the agonizing pain, I climbed to the top of the suitcase, balancing by holding on to the shelf. I slid prostrate onto that shelf, biting my lip to keep from screaming out. Breathing hard, I rotated the handle until the window levered open. But it didn’t open all the way.

  It didn’t leave room enough to get through, so I knocked it up with the heel of my left hand, breaking the frame.

  I froze. Had Rudy heard the noise?

  The television still blared, and I prayed he had fallen asleep. Beating your wife half to death does take it out of you.

  I threw the phone out, heard it thud lightly onto the grass.

  Gritting my teeth, I slid my feet through the window’s opening, then scooted my body down until my rump rested on the sill. It was like being reborn, pushed into a new world, frightened and damaged, but I managed to slip the rest of the way out and dropped to the ground.

  I didn’t wait to see if Rudy had heard me. With life-or-death determination, I grabbed the phone and cord, clutched my side, and ran again toward the safe haven of the forest that had always sheltered and hidden me.

  In the darkness, I strained to see the landmarks that told me where I was. The fallen tree, the thornbush growing out of a stump, the path that Lizzie and I had used so often. My breath whistled as I ran, and I knew that my rib had penetrated my lungs. I couldn’t gasp enough air in, and I was growing weaker as I went.

  I managed to trudge on, across the railroad tracks this time, deeper into the woods.

  The old gas station from which Lizzie had left with Amanda was lit up on the highway, and I stumbled out and headed toward it. It was closed, so no one was there, but I found an outdoor plug in the front of the building. Shaking, I plugged the phone in.

  Gratitude gushed through me as its light came on.

  I found Amanda’s number, pushed talk . . . and waited for my sister to answer.

  THIRTY-NINE

  Lizzie answered after the first ring. “Kara?”

  Her voice sounded frantic, breathless, like she already knew why I was calling.

  “Lizzie!” I knew I didn’t sound like myself. I was hoarse and couldn’t catch a breath, and my jaw would hardly move.

  “Kara? You’re hurt, aren’t you? The pain . . . it woke me up. I knew you were in trouble . . .”

  As sorry as I was that she felt this pain, it gave me hope to know we were still connected. “Lizzie, he beat me.”

  “Rudy beat you? Are you all right?”

  “No! You were right, Lizzie. You were so right. I should have listened to you.”

  “Kara, tell me where you are.”

  “I’m at Zeke Stafford’s gas station . . . but I can’t stay here in the light . . . the phone doesn’t have a charge.” I couldn’t breathe. “He’ll find me and drag me back.”

  I heard a commotion on the other end, other voices, then Amanda took the phone. “Kara, I want you to wait there for the police. Do you hear me? I want you to—”

  I saw headlights coming up the road and I knew it was Rudy. I jerked the cord out of the jack and hid behind the building. I sat there in the shadows, trembling and watching. I was right. Rudy knew I was gone and was searching for me. His car slowed down . . .

  “Please, Lord . . . Oh, please, please let him pass.”

  I’d never had a prayer answered before. In fact, I didn’t remember ever praying. But I was overcome with gratitude when I looked again and he was gone.

  I had to get out of town. I couldn’t let him find me.

  I put the phone in my pocket, along with the adapter cord, and made my way to the SOS. It was still open, though a skeleton crew worked in the dark hours of the morning.

  I went between eighteen-wheelers parked in the lot behind the building, then reached the back door. I stumbled into the kitchen. Andy Yarbrough looked up at me and swore under his breath. “What in the blazes happened to you?”

  “Andy, I need money,” I managed to say. I tried hard to get a breath, but my lungs just weren’t taking it in. My side hurt so bad that I wanted to die. “I need it quick. Please. You’ve got to help me.”

  “How much you need?”

  “Enough to buy a train ticket. Please. I have this phone I can sell you if you could just give me forty or fifty dollars.”

  “Are you kidding? I ain’t got that much on me.”

  “Please. Get it out of the cash register. The phone’s probably worth a hundred bucks. Come on, Andy. You’re saving a life. I’ve got to get out of town.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Did your new husband do this to you?”

  “I don’t have time to go over this! Please. You’ve got to help me.”

  He drew in a deep breath. “Well, all right. Just a minute. I’ll be back with the money.” He left the kitchen, and I stepped into the pantry, out of sight, and waited for him to come back. In a moment, he returned with two twenties.

  “You give me that phone,” he said. “When the boss comes in in the morning, I don’t want to have to explain why we’re short. At least he’ll have this.”

  I thrust the phone at him. “Call the police for me. Tell them Rudy beat me and locked me up. And if he comes, don’t tell him I was here. Say you haven’t seen me. Promise me!”

  “All right,” he said, already heading for the wall phone.

  “And then call my sister,” I rasped out. I tried to get my breath. “Number’s on the phone, under Amanda.”

  “Okay, okay.”

  I bolted out the back door, wondering if he’d really do any of what I’d said. Agony almost paralyzed me, but I made myself move. I headed for the train station as fast as my feet would carry me, but it was a long walk that seemed to take hours. My lungs seemed like a balloon with a gaping hole, and I kept stopping to rest. I feared I would collapse in the middle of the woods, only to be found days later when some nasty hunting dog smelled my decay. I made myself trudge on, soaked in sweat and whistling each breath. I made it to the depot just as darkness had begun to lift.

  I checked the parking lot for Rudy’s car. It wasn’t there, so I went in and leaned against the counter. “What’s the next train out of here?” I asked the depot manager through my teeth.

  He regarded me with alarm. “Girl, you ne
ed a hospital.”

  “I don’t have time for a hospital. Hurry. What’s the next train?”

  “Well, we have a seven o’clock headed for Dallas.Where you trying to go?”

  I burst into tears and covered my face. “I just want to go to Jackson. Is there a train to Jackson?”

  “Not until ten o’clock.”

  “I can’t wait. I have to get out of town now. What’s the next train out?”

  “Well, you could take that train headed for Dallas and change trains in Monroe. That’d get you out of town. Then you could head back to Jackson.”

  “I only have forty dollars. Please. It has to be enough.”

  He took the two twenties, punched some numbers into his little computer, then nodded. “Forty bucks is just right.” I doubted that was true—maybe one person in this sorry town had some kindness in him, I thought. “But you’ll need more when you get there.”

  “I’ll worry about that then.” I took the ticket and held it against my heart. “Please. If a man comes in looking for me, just tell him you haven’t seen me. You’ll be saving my life.”

  “Do I need to call the police for you?”

  I thought of Andy at the SOS. “They’ve already been called.”

  I headed into the bathroom and went into a stall. I sat there, waiting until I heard the train pulling up. Then, when I was sure it was time to board, I rushed out, still soaking with sweat and struggling to breathe.

  I climbed on the train and limped from car to car. I found a seat at the very back and lay down, just in case Rudy got on and looked across the heads to see if I was there. I curled up in a fetal position, groaning at the pain. I started to cough and put my hand over my mouth to muffle it. The blood was still wet on my face.

  “Help me, Jesus,” I whimpered. “I’m dying in a sticky, stinking seat in the back of an old train.” It was appropriate, I thought. A horrible end to a terrible life. “Please, Lord, get me to Lizzie . . . I’m so sorry for all I did. Let Amanda give me another chance.”

  The train had pulled away from the station, and I realized I had escaped. But I couldn’t breathe, and the pain was more than I could bear.