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The Atonement (The Arrangement, #3)(61)

Author:Kiersten Modglin

He thought he’d won, but by some miracle, I’d managed my way out of it again.

“Thank you,” I told her once more as we slid into our seats and buckled up.

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you texted. Are you okay? We should really get you to the hospital. Those scrapes look really bad.”

“I’ll be okay. For now, I just want to get to my kids.”

She didn’t seem to agree with the plan, but didn’t immediately argue. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the police? Guys like that…they don’t usually give up without a fight.”

“He put up a hell of a fight,” I told her. “But going to the police will only hurt my children. I don’t want them to know what a monster he is. I just want him to leave us alone.”

She swallowed. “I get it. Really, I do. It’s hard to recover from that… To know that part of you came from someone like him.”

Something in her voice made me think she knew all too well what I was saying.

“But I want you to be careful. I never wanted to get you involved. He’s dangerous, Gina. Unpredictable.”

“You didn’t force me to get involved. I inserted myself into the situation. I insisted you save my number. I wanted to help you, Ainsley. I’m not worried about Peter. I can take care of myself.” She was quiet for a moment, though she looked like she had something she wanted to say. Finally, she spoke up. “I know this…this company. They helped my friend. Mujer. They help battered and abused women and kids. It’s super secretive, but this woman and her husband who run it, they’re great. I can put you in contact—”

“I’m okay,” I promised, reaching out and putting a hand on her arm. “You’ve done more than enough. I’m going to go away. Take my kids and go. I’ll be okay now, thanks to you.”

She ran her tongue along her teeth. “Where will you go? Do you have family you can stay with, or…”

“I’ll figure out something.”

“Men like him don’t deserve to get away with this.”

“He’s lost everything he cares about, Gina. His company, his marriage, his family. Peter may not be going to jail, but…there are worse things.” I swallowed, stone-faced. The reality of it was bitter. It wasn’t easy. Peter hadn’t been wrong about how much I loved him, but that didn’t change the fact that I loved my children more. “He’ll be alone for the rest of his life.” I paused. “I know you don’t agree with my decision, but—”

“But it is your decision. And I respect it. Just…promise me you’ll be careful. Wherever you go.”

I smiled. “I will. I promise.”

“So, where can I take you?”

I gave her directions to my mother’s house, then rested my head against the window as she navigated us there, a pit in my stomach and throbbing in my head as I thought about the last time I’d told someone my husband was abusive. Poor Stefan…

That time, it had been to save my marriage.

This time, it was to save myself.

CHAPTER THIRTY

AINSLEY

The next morning, I awoke to the sound of a knocking on the door. My entire body ached, every movement as painful as if I’d been hit by a truck.

“You up?” Mom asked, pushing the door open and peering in.

“Yeah, I am,” I lied, easing myself up off the bed.

“Do you want breakfast? What time’s your flight?”

“Eleven,” I told her. “And yeah, breakfast sounds nice.” I stood and crossed the room. “Do you happen to have a toothbrush I can borrow?”

“Of course. Be right back.” She left the room and reappeared moments later with a red plastic toothbrush still in its packaging. Passing it to me, she studied my face. “There’s some antibiotic cream under the sink, too. The better care you take of it, the less chance it’ll scar. And what a nasty scar that would be.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

She nodded. “I can’t believe you ruined your hair like that.” I turned away from her, refusing to respond, and she went on. “Are you sure you’re ready to travel? Why not stay here for a few days and rest?”

“I told you…I have to go get the kids. I only stayed behind to take care of things.”

“And everything’s taken care of now?”

“Yep.” In the bathroom, I spread toothpaste on the brush and placed it in my mouth.

“Are you sure you shouldn’t see some sort of specialist? I mean, it just looks awful.” She was still eyeing the scrape.

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