by Amber Garza
Break Free
by Amber Garza
Other titles by Amber Garza
Contemporary Romance:
Falling to Pieces
Star Struck
Love Struck
Tripping Me Up
Winning Me Over
Finding Me Again (Novella)
Head Above Water
Single Title Suspense:
Engraved
Delaney’s Gift Series:
Dazzle
Shatter
Betray
YA Christian Thrillers:
The Prowl Trilogy
Prowl
Entice
Unveil
To connect with Amber Garza online:
http://www.ambergarza.com
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Amber-Garza-author
Or to sign up for the newsletter: http://eepurl.com/sp8Q9
To the true love of my life, Jesus Christ, who knows the worst of me and yet has never stopped loving or pursuing me.
PROLOGUE
My face was on fire. And I’m not speaking figuratively. No, it was literally on fire. The flame, bright and red like blood singed my flesh, ate away at my porcelain skin. I clawed at it, batted it away, but it grew and spread like a ravage disease. Nothing could abate it. Nothing could stop the pain. The horrible, searing pain.
My cries for help went unanswered.
His eyes watched me, uncaring, as the flicker of the flame danced in his irises. There wasn’t a hint of remorse as he stared at me, frozen in place. Then again, what did I expect when he’s the one who did this to me? Did I expect him to suddenly jump into action, play the part of the hero when all I’d ever known him to be was the villain?
Water finally stopped it. Glorious, cold water that I lapped onto my flesh, and splashed onto my skin until the flames quieted. But still the scent of burnt flesh lingered in the air, turning my stomach. And the intense pain was still there.
Reaching up, I grappled the tender flesh, skimming it with the pads of my fingers. Without even looking in the mirror I knew my face was damaged, scarred beyond repair.
That’s okay. I figured it matched my heart.
In school my teachers had taught me all about safety and not talking to strangers. But they never told me what to do when the danger lived in my very own home.
ONE
It wasn’t the first time he tried to kill me, but it sure as hell would be the last.
There was a time when I wanted Heath more than anything else. A time when one look from him brought me to my knees, made me worship the ground he walked on. All that ended the first time he beat the shit out of me. Now all I saw when he walked into the room was a monster. A monster way worse than the ones I’d imagined hidden under my bed as a child. There were times I swore I saw fangs when he smiled, a flicker of neon color in his eyes, horns protruding from his head, claws growing out of his fingers.
I had to fight the urge to throw up in his mouth every time he kissed me. His hands burned like hot irons when he put them on my skin. I imagined them leaving a trail of burn marks in their wake.
That’s all I was anyway. One giant scar. Marred beyond repair. Ugly. Broken. Damaged. Wasn’t that what he said in his fits of rage? Weren’t those the words he spewed as his fists rained down on me?
If it weren’t for the fact that he supplied the drug I needed to survive, I would’ve left long ago. But I didn’t know how to survive without meth. It had been my coping mechanism for as long as I could remember. I’d read enough self-help books to know that other people used methods like yoga, meditation, green tea and shit like that. There’s no way any of those things would work for me. Clearly those people had a different life than mine. I needed something a whole lot stronger to get me through my hellish days. But now even meth wasn’t working. The beatings were becoming more frequent, and even the best high wasn’t erasing the pain and agony I had inside. It was time to jump ship.
Heath came into my life at the right moment. As if he’d been waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike; looking for a girl who needed to be saved. I would’ve believed anything he said, as long as he promised to take me far away and never bring me back. I thought I was escaping into freedom, but all I did was switch nightmares.
But I was done. Through with all of it. He could find a new weak girl to prey upon.
While Heath slept off a bender I stole a couple hundred dollars from his wallet, preparing to leave for good. I contemplated stealing a stash of meth, but then thought better of it. If I was going to make a clean break, I needed to really do it. The drugs would just bring me back. It would be hell to quit, but it was my only hope of gaining freedom. And wasn’t that what I’d always wanted?
Freedom. I wondered what that looked like. Was it even possible for someone like me to find it? I was skeptical, but willing to try. I picked up my backpack filled with all the belongings I had in this world. Sad that it could fit in a backpack. Even sadder that it wasn’t full. I could count off all my belongings on my fingers and probably not reach all ten. But I didn’t care. Things didn’t matter to me. Actually, nothing did.
I stepped over a pile of empty beer cans discarded on the ground near the coffee table, which was filled with overflowing ashtrays. There was a half empty pack of cigarettes and a lighter next to it. I shivered. Most meth addicts smoke, but I could never bring myself to do it. The first time I tried, I held the cigarette between my lips and flicked the lighter. When the flame danced from it, I started to draw it to my lips. I could feel the heat radiating from it, and that’s when fear struck. I completely lost it, screaming and clawing at my face as if it were on fire again. Heath slapped me, demanding that I snap out of it. Only I couldn’t. It’s like it was happening all over again. From then on I knew I could never smoke. Even when Heath lit up his cigarettes I stayed as far from him as possible. In his particularly evil moments he’d flick on his lighter and tease me with it, bringing it close to my face or flashing it in my eyes.
I strapped my backpack on my back, and it caught on my long dark hair. I gathered up the strands, tugging them out. My hair was my favorite feature. It’s long and sleek, and I could use it to cover up the hideous scar on the right side of my face, the skin that was burned beyond repair. No amount of skin grafts in the world could make my cheek look normal again. I always wore thick bangs, straight and blunt, hanging right above my eyebrows. Hell, I’d grow them out over my entire face if I could. I liked to keep my face as covered as possible. I’d been told by guys over the years that my light blue eyes were beautiful, a startling comparison to my dark hair. But it’s usually right before they slept with me and never called again. Or right before they shoved their fist in my face. So I didn’t believe them. Besides, I knew the truth. If it’s true that your eyes are the window to the soul, then my eyes must have been sad and dark to anyone who was really looking. Then again, I doubt anyone had ever looked that hard.
And, frankly, that was fine by me. It was safer that way.
When I stepped outside, the cool air circled me. Goosebumps rose on the bare flesh of my arms. I had a jacket in my backpack, but I didn’t bother grabbing it. The cold felt good. It made me feel alive. For a girl who was mostly dead, that’s saying something. Heath always told me that I was dead inside, that I lacked emotion, that I didn’t feel anything. I agreed with him, telling him I was ruined, numb. But the truth was that I did feel things. I felt it every time he called me repulsive and ugly. I felt it deep inside in that place where I stored the painful words spoken over me. The beatings I could take, it was the words that left the biggest mark. My physical wounds healed, but I could never erase the words that ran through my mind day and night.
Trash. Worthless. Damaged. Hideous. Stupid.
I wo
re those scars even more prominently than the ones people could see. I wore them in my heart, the place no one could reach. The place that no one could heal.
Cars passed me on the street as I walked along the sidewalk. The sky was dark, the windows in the apartment buildings lit up. If only I had a car, then I could hit the open road and never look back. But Heath never let me drive. He kept me close, where he could watch me. Too bad he wasn’t watching tonight. Heath would be shocked when he found me gone. He didn’t think I’d ever leave him.
I smiled. A small smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes, but it was a start.
A car filled with teenage boys drove past. A few of them gawked at me from the back window. I looked down at my scuffed tennis shoes and pulled my hair over my face. But I knew it was too late. They’d seen the scar. I could tell by their horrified expressions. And along with that, I’m sure they noticed the latest shiner, and the bruises along my neck where Heath had choked me. My fingers fluttered over the bruises, remembering how awful it felt to have my air supply cut off. Although there was a part of me that welcomed it. A part of me that waited for death to come. I wondered what it would feel like to slip into nothingness. No more pain, no more sorrow. It could be blissful.
But Heath didn’t want to off me, so he stopped before it got that far. Bastard.
I rounded a corner and headed for the bus stop. Heath could pay for my ticket out of town. Maybe I’d ride it to the end of the line. It didn’t matter where. As long as my past stayed here, I could go anywhere. I could leave it all behind, shed it like an old coat or a pair of worn out shoes. I’d never miss it. I’d never search for it. In fact, I hoped to never think of it again.
But I knew it wasn’t that easy. I could never outrun the memories no matter how hard I tried. And believe me, I had.
The bus stop came into view, and my heart stuttered in my chest. This was it. Time for a new beginning. As I took deliberate steps forward, I wondered if I could really do it this time. Would my attempt be successful or would I end up right back where I started?
Swallowing hard, I stepped into the line. A couple got in behind me, wedging me in. The family in front of me was loud as they chatted with one another. I scratched at my wrist, feeling itchy all over. I hated crowds. It made me claustrophobic. The man behind me bumped me with his elbow, and I curled into myself like a piece of origami, wishing I could transform like that. Change my shape and become something else. What would I want to be? A swan. Definitely a swan.
When I was little, I read a book about an ugly duckling becoming a swan. At the time it had given me hope that things could change. That maybe it was possible to alter your destiny. Life had ruined that idealistic view for me. But every once in awhile I’d feel a glimmer of hope.
The line moved forward. I looked up at the board above the ticket counter, at all the potential places I could go. My chest constricted. I’d never set out on my own before. A bud of panic took root in my stomach and started to bloom slowly, like a flower opening up. The petals fluttered inside of me. It was my turn. Forcing myself to breathe, I stepped forward.
I could do this. I wouldn’t let fear hold me back this time.
TWO
I pressed my face to the cold window, clutching my backpack in my lap as the bus rattled along the road. The effects of the meth I snorted earlier started to wane, and a headache pricked behind my eyes. My stomach rolled, and I dug my fingernails into the fabric of my backpack. Weariness swept over me as I crashed from my high.
“Where are you headed?” This was the second time the woman sitting next to me had tried to make conversation.
I wished she’d shut the hell up. Most people knew to leave me alone when I was coming down from a high. Not that I was ever a friendly person, but when I was coming down I was an outright bitch. But when I turned to the woman, I bit back a snarky remark. She had that whole sweet grandmotherly look down in her flowery top, velour pants and white Velcro shoes. Her hair was curled like she just went to the beauty shop, and she smiled her bright coral lips at me warmly. I used to have a grandma like this. She was maybe the only person who ever tried to help me. If she were still alive she would probably assist me now.
The woman stared at me, her eyes shifting to the right side of my face. I waited for the usual signs of horror – the eyebrow raise, the frown, the grimace, the furrow. But she did none of those things, and for that reason alone I decided not to be a total bitch.
“Red Blossom,” I answered, like I knew something about the place. In truth, I’d never heard of Red Blossom. That’s why I chose it. The lady at the bus stop counter had said that it was a small town in the middle of nowhere. It sounded perfect. After living in a city all of my life, the quiet would be a nice change. I’d always wanted to live out in the country, without traffic and noise. Besides, Heath would never look for me there. I was sure he’d never heard of the small town either, and he would never assume that’s where I’d go.
I thought about going all the way to Oregon or Washington. But it was winter, and I wouldn’t survive the cold. I didn’t have the clothes for it. Most likely I’d have to sleep on the streets until I found a job and a place to stay, so I needed to be somewhere with similar weather to what I was used to. I’d survived the streets before, and I could again. Even more so in a place where no one knew me; where I wouldn’t have to constantly look over my shoulder.
“Ah, that’s the end of the line,” the woman replied. “I’m getting off in Lodi. Visiting my daughter and son-in-law and my grandkids.”
I nodded, trying to imagine the kind of life this woman lived. A life with children she adored, and grandchildren to play with. It was a life I’d never known, and it made my stomach hurt. Then again, my stomach could have been hurting because I’d been high for days and hadn’t eaten anything.
As if on cue, my tummy growled. I drew my backpack tighter into my body, and stared back out the window. Trees and fields blurred past until it looked like green paint splashed on a blue canvas. My eyes drooped. I leaned my head back into the vinyl seat and closed my eyes, allowing myself to succumb to the sleep that had eluded me for days.
When I awoke the old woman was gone, vanished as if she’d never been here. The seat beside me was empty, thank god. It was quiet, save for some snoring and heavy breathing. I glanced around to the few passengers left, most of them sleeping. I stretched my legs, working out the kinks, and released my death grip on my backpack. Since no one was next to me, I set the backpack down, resting my open palm on it. I squinted and pinched the bridge of my nose in an effort to soothe my terrible headache. My stomach churned, and my mouth filled with moisture. I cursed myself for not stealing some drugs. There was no way I would survive without them. Regret lodged in my throat, making it hard to swallow. Maybe I wasn’t strong enough to do this. I wondered if I should go back, until I caught my reflection in the window like a transparent head floating against the dark night sky. My battered face stared back at me, reminding me why I couldn’t return. Drugs or no drugs, I couldn’t. He would kill me next time. I was sure of it. I had no choice but to leave.
I was surprised when the bus driver announced our arrival in Red Blossom. I must have been asleep for a long time. Snatching up my backpack, I strapped it on and stepped out into the aisle. The few others passengers all filed out as well. Our feet pounded on the ground with each step. When I emerged from the bus, I shivered against the cold. Finding a nearby bench, I set my backpack down, and with trembling fingers yanked open the zipper. My fingertips brushed over my jacket, and I tugged it out. It’s thin so it didn’t offer as much warmth as I had hoped for, but it was all I had. Teeth chattering, I pulled my backpack over my shoulders and walked forward into the quiet night. The other passengers were greeted by family members or friends and ushered to awaiting cars, leaving me all alone.
Silence surrounded me and darkness swallowed me whole. Having no idea where to go, I just started walking. The lady at the counter was right. The town was in the mid
dle of nowhere. All around me was nothing but fields. Other than the gas station and a little grocery store, I hadn’t passed anything but vast expanses of land, and a couple of houses. And they looked nothing like the houses in the city. They were set back from the road and were miles from other houses. In the city the homes were all crowded, one on top of the other.
The longer I walked down the road, the more tired and sick I became. Shit. Withdrawals were already setting in and it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours. My desire for the drug burned through my body, running through my veins. Biting my lip, I fingered the bottom of my jacket, digging my fingernails into the flesh of my wrist. The headache had spread behind my eyes and down my neck. I continued walking forward, even though all I wanted to do was curl up into a ball and sleep forever.
The road was deserted, open fields surrounding me. Cows filled the field to my right, but to my left it was completely empty, nothing but tall weeds and yellow grass as far as I could see. I crossed the street and hopped the barbed wire fence. My tennis shoes hit the yellow grass and I picked up my pace. Maybe I could find a large tree to lay behind. I had a t-shirt in my bag that I could ball up and use for a pillow. All I knew was that I had to rest.
It didn’t look like there were any hotels nearby, and I couldn’t make it much further. Besides, I only had a little over a hundred dollars left, and I would probably need it for food or something. I couldn’t spend it all on one night in a hotel room. That would be stupid.
Tomorrow I would look for a job. Glancing down at my torn jeans and t-shirt, I winced. Who was I kidding? No one would hire me looking like this. Was I fooling myself to think this would work? The impossibility of my situation slammed into me, making it difficult to breathe. A barn came into view, and I froze. The barn doors were open, and inside it appeared to be dark and empty. One of the doors swung in the slight breeze, creaking on its hinges. I moved forward, stepping inside. Some hay was piled in the corner, but other than that it looked like no one used the barn for anything. I rubbed my arms with my hands, trembling in the cold.
