The Victim (Book #1)

Chapter 15

I wanted to just take what I had when I came in, but Charlotte had gotten rid of the clothes that were too small on me. Wearing the Anders stuff was stealing, but I couldn't worry about that now. My uncle always told me I couldn't do anything right, and that I had no skills. He was wrong. Staying alive was my skill. And if that meant betraying the trust of the only woman who actually knew even a fraction of who I was, it was worth it.

I filled a light backpack with a blanket and a change of clothes, and then dressed myself in all black.

It would be a couple hours before I could leave, so I pulled out my laptop and typed up a goodbye note to Charlotte. I didn't mention the boys. I wasn't sure that I could, although I longed to at least tell Caleb that I would be okay.

At around midnight, I turned off the lights and got into my bed, to look believable if the boys came to check on me. Sure enough, Damon, Brooklyn, and Caleb all poked their heads in and whispered goodnight when they saw I was "asleep". I didn't answer but wished Dominic had said goodnight too. But that, too, was my fault. He couldn't have known it would be his last opportunity.

I checked the clock. 4AM. It was time.

I considered leaving through the window, but I'd have to break the screen to get through, and I really didn't want them to have to fix or replace anything when I was gone. I was a burden enough as it was. The front door would work just fine, especially considering Charlotte wasn't here and the gate out front wouldn't be too hard to climb. 

I slipped out into the hall in my socks, holding my yellow shoes in my right hand. The backpack was slung haphazardly over my shoulder, but I managed not to run it into any of the nice furniture in the hall.

I kept my breathing slow as I dropped the note on Charlotte's king-sized bed and slipped downstairs to the front door. I grabbed the handle and pulled the ornate wood to one side with a lot of my strength, finally getting it to swing open without a creak. And then I heard him.

"Where do you think you're going?" he said.

- - - -

I nearly had a heart attack as I spun around and faced the living room couch, seeing the shape that had once been lying dormant on it.

"Dominic?" I asked in shock. My eyes flickered to the door, and then back to him. If I ran, could I beat him out of here with the weight of the backpack? If I dropped it, how could I afford food or clothes wherever I was going?

He saw where I was looking.

"Don't even try it, Maya." He said sternly.

"What?" I forced myself to chuckle and my stance to relax. "I was just gonna take a little late-night picnic on the lawn." I patted my backpack, as if to imply that all the supplies were in there. It was a bad lie, but I said it with enough confidence that he might doubt his own motivation and leave me be.

"Oh yeah?" he asked, standing and getting closer. Never before had he seemed to tower over me so much as he did in this moment. He was a little bit further than arm's length when he stopped and crossed his arms over his chest.

"So, if I were to open your backpack there... I wouldn't find clothes, food, or money. I'd find-what was it again? Oh. Picnic supplies." He said with a straight face.

I nodded, heart still pounding out of my chest. I could hear it in my ears, and when I gulped, I could hear that too. It was strange how fear seemed to give me superpowers, despite being my worst enemy.

He raised his eyebrows sardonically and held out a hand for my bag. He wanted me to prove it.

I gulped again and shook my head, putting one protective arm around it.