I turn the shower up as hot as it can go. Scalding. I let the water run over me, immune to the pain. Every time I shut my eyes, I see him coming at me.
You’ve made a fool out of me for the last time, Quinn.
His fingers closing around my neck, compressing my windpipe. Flailing around with my right hand until it made contact with the knife rack on the kitchen counter…
I swallow, and with trembling fingers, I turn up the water temperature as hot as it will go. My nerve endings are screaming, but I welcome it.
When I get out of the shower, my skin is bright red. I wrap a towel around my body and stare at myself in the mirror over the sink. Unsurprisingly, I don’t look great. My eyes are sunken in their sockets. My blond hair is plastered to my skull, cascading down my shoulders in limp clumps. Even though it’s wet, I can see the dark roots growing in—he pointed it out to me last night. Time to get to the hairdresser, Quinn. When I first met Derek, my hair was shoulder length and brown, but he liked my hair long and blond. But even after years of being blond, it never felt like me.
Well, that’s one thing I can change now.
I can’t do anything about the color—at least not yet—but it doesn’t have to be so long. I pick up the pair of scissors from inside the medicine cabinet. Before I can overthink it, I slice my hair off at chin length. I don’t spend too much time making sure it’s even, and also, my hands won’t stop shaking, which doesn’t help matters. The entire process takes about sixty seconds. I flush all the hair down the toilet so nobody will know I did it.
There. I look a lot different with my hair so short. It’s not enough, but it’s a start.
I pack a bag as rapidly as I can—I toss in some shirts, bras, underwear, and pants. I take all my jewelry, figuring I could hock it if I need to. I also open the shoe box in the back of the closet where I’ve been stashing money whenever I can, as well as my passport. Somehow I knew I would need it for a day like today. The money isn’t much, but it will get me through a few weeks, at least. I can also hit an ATM or two, but I have to be careful about that. Every time I withdraw money, I’ll be leaving a trail the police will follow.
I get a sick feeling just thinking about it. This is my life from now on. Hiding from the police. I’ll never see my home again. I’ll never see my sister again.
But it’s that or life in prison.
After my bag is packed, I hesitate at the top of the stairwell, my stomach fluttering. I was up there too long. Too many wasted minutes. What if Scott came back to check on me? What if he didn’t really believe I was watching the movie Scream?
What if the first floor of my house is crawling with cops, waiting to drag me away in cuffs?
My sensible sneakers thump on the steps. I take them slowly, watching to see if anyone is waiting for me. My heart is pounding. I was stupid to spend so much time up there. I should have grabbed whatever I could and run.
But the living room is silent. Just like I left it.
Thank God.
I won’t make the same mistake again. I don’t bother to look around the living room and make sure I’ve gotten every last thing. Everything I own is expendable. Anyway, what would I take? A picture of me and Derek from one of our trips? No way. I want to forget his perfect, handsome, smug face.
So instead, I go straight to the garage. My blue Toyota Corolla is sitting there, waiting for me. We have a two-car garage and Derek’s Porsche is right next to my Corolla. He never understood why I didn’t want a fancy, expensive car like he had. Why would I keep the same crappy Corolla I drove back when I was single?
He didn’t get it. This car is mine. I paid for it myself, unlike our ridiculously extravagant house and furnishings. It’s the last thing I own that still feels like me.
I climb in my Corolla and start up the engine.
And I run.
Chapter 3
I have no idea where I’m going.
It’s not like I did this with any kind of well-thought-out plan. I didn’t wake up this morning and say to myself, Hey, I’m going to kill my husband today! If I had done something like that, I would have filled up my gas tank beforehand, for starters.
I also would have picked a better day to do it, weather-wise. December has been unseasonably warm this year, but of course, today would be the day we get blessed with freezing rain. That lovely combination of rain and snow is slowly coating the roads and obscuring my windshield as I travel as fast as I dare. And all the while, the sun is dropping in the sky, making it harder and harder to see.
It’s like Derek is already haunting me from beyond the grave.