Wait For Me (Breaking Free Book 1) Read online

  This is just for fun, for old times sake, a sentiment she got mildly furious over when I shared it outloud a week ago. Nikki might be perfectly fine with flaunting everything she’s got for other men, but she’s always had a bit of a jealous streak. I know better than anyone that she doesn’t want anything serious, not really, but I suppose she’s happy enough to play pretend for the time being.

  What the hell am I even doing with this girl again, I ask myself as she climbs up into the passenger side of my truck. I don’t blame her for the trouble I got in, not truly, but she played a part. Granny would be rolling over in her grave is she knew I’d taken back up with Nikki. Maybe I don’t blame the girl sitting beside me for my run in with the law, but Granny sure did. Chrissy too.

  “Where are you heading?” Nikki asks, twisting around in her seat to face me. “I thought we were going into town.”

  “Let’s go get your car first.”

  “We can do that later,” she says, letting her hand fall on my leg. “I have some friends that are going to meet us there.”

  I sigh under my breath. So much for a quiet night out, but I don’t feel like arguing with her about it now. My eyes are on the road, but my mind is elsewhere. I’m about to turn twenty four years old, and I don’t have a damn thing to show for it. I’m ready to start a job doing roofs and drywall for a guy I went to school with. It’s a job, one I’ve done before, and thanks to my status as a felon, I really ought to be thankful for the opportunity, but it’s a dead end.

  Nikki is a dead end too, as awful as that is to think, but it’s the truth. Chrissy said something a week ago that’s been spinning quietly through my head ever since the words left her mouth. “She’s a trainwreck, Ryan. She’s just like mom. What are you thinking?”

  I had laughed it off, swallowing back my anger in the moment, but maybe my sister is right. Nikki never touched anything as heavy as our mother used to fool with, not that I know of anyways, but she sure likes to drink. She works part time in a laundry mat, and during her daytime shifts, she likes to pass the hours stoned too. Back before I got locked up, I was right there with her for a few months, not with the pot. I always hated that shit, but we got pretty well into coke for a while, and I did a good bit of drinking too.

  What am I thinking? It’s only a matter of time before I get sucked right back into that nonsense with her. Nikki might be a good time, but she’s not worth losing my freedom over again, not her, not any woman.

  When we get to the restaurant, Nikki’s friends have yet to arrive. We settle into a corner booth, and she decides to bypass appetizers in lieu of a cocktail.

  “Are you really going to make me drink alone?” she asks, right after the waitress left the table.

  “One of us has to drive.”

  “We’ll take a cab.”

  “I told you I have work tomorrow, and there is no way in hell I’m showing up to my first day hungover.”

  “Just have one then. Shit. What happened to you in that place? Most guys come out of the joint ready to let loose and live a bit.”

  “Is that so?” I wonder how many guys she’s sat with like this that are fresh out of the ‘joint.’ My guess is a few. Nikki has a type, and I used to fit it to a T. Maybe in her eyes I still do.

  “Mmhmm.” Nikki wet her lips, and tilts her head to the side. “So what was it like in there.”

  “You’ve been a time or two, haven’t you?”

  She waves her hand through the air. “That was just a holding cell, and county for a few weeks. I never did any real time.”

  “It was like a long, boring time-out. I read a lot, kept my head down, and tried my damndest to stay out of trouble.”

  “What kind of trouble?” Her top teeth press into her bottom lip as she waits expectantly for an answer.

  Knowing Nikki, I bet she’s already wet at the thought of me getting into trouble. Back in the day, I found myself in a few different fights on her behalf, the last of which is what landed me in jail. That along with the cocaine in my possession, and in my system.

  God, she really is a trainwreck, but I’m the fool who hopped on for another ride. I decide right then and there, I’m done. I’ll let her finish her drink, then drop her off back home. There’s no sense in doing it here in the middle of the restaurant and having her cause a scene.

  “You didn’t find yourself a boyfriend while you were locked up, did you?” she asks, with a lopsided grin.

  “I can’t say I did.”

  “Did you think about me?”

  “I thought about getting the hell out of there, and straightening my life up.”

  Nikki starts to crack up. “Maybe you didn’t find you a man, but I’m starting to think you found the lord in there.”

  “Can’t say I found that either.”

  “Oh, there they are.” Nikki says. She leans up and waves to a couple who have just meandered in through the door.

  The woman looks to be about our age, a few years older perhaps. She’s wearing even more eye makeup than Nikki is currently, if that’s possible, and she’s dressed in head-to-toe black. The man is huge, stalky, probably about forty if I have to guess, but there’s a lot of hard living evident on his face, and the edge of some tattoo peeking out the top collar of his white tshirt, and winding around the back of his neck.

  Nikki hops up from the table to give the girl a brief hug. “Be right back,” she says to me with a little wink. “We’re gonna take a trip to the little girl’s room.”

  Seriously? I guess I’m expected to chit chat with this guy, who I don’t know from adam. He slides into Nikki’s seat in her absence. Coincidentally enough, his name actually turns out to be Adam, or at least that’s what he tells me. When I ask how he knows Nikki, he says flatly, “I don’t.”

  Nikki and her friend, if that’s really what she is, are gone for so long I just about run out of pointless chatter to fill the space between me and this Adam guy. I try to feel him out a bit, but he doesn’t let go of much.

  Before the girls return, I already have a pretty good idea what’s going on. My suspicion is confirmed as soon as I get sight of Nikki’s eyes, her pupil’s blown so huge hardly any brown remains visible around the outer edge. There is a little nod from the girl beside Nikki, then Adam slides out of the bench seat across from me and they depart.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I say in a low voice. “Seriously, Nikki?”

  “What?”

  “Don’t what me.”

  “I don’t like meeting those two at my place. I don’t trust them.”

  Letting out a bitter laugh, I shake my head and stare towards the door. “You about ready to get out of here?”

  “I sure am,” she says in a husky voice.

  I throw some money on the table, and stand idly by as she downs her drink. Once we are outside the restaurant, I pull out my phone to call for a cab.

  “Why don’t you drive us?” Nikki wants to know.

  “I’m going to drive myself, and you’re going to ride home in this cab, because you’re sure as hell not getting in my truck with whatever you’ve got on you right now.”

  Nikki huffs. “Stop being a pussy.”

  “You know I’m on parole.”

  “Come on, Ryan. Just drive careful. Don’t get pulled over. It’s not like I live far.” Staring up at me, she molds her body up against mine. “Don’t you remember when we’d do lines, and fuck all night. I know you remember.”

  I hold Nikki back by the shoulders. “What I remember is staring at a concrete wall for thirteen months, trying like hell not to lose my mind. There is no way I’m going back to that place. If you want to waste your life like this, go right on ahead, but I’m through.”

  “Are you breaking up with me?”

  I really don’t want to get her started. Hopefully that cab shows up before she throws a hissy fit right out here on the sidewalk. “I’m saying you ought to take a few days, and think about what you want, but this isn’t what I want anymore.”

&
nbsp; “Ryan, I waited for you.”

  Holding back my laughter is impossible. “I bet you did.”

  “Well, I missed you anyways. I missed you like crazy.”

  “I missed you too,” I say with a small sigh. Part of me missed her, but I think what I really miss is the girl I fell for back in high school, and she is not that girl anymore. She hasn’t been for a long time.

  The cab pulls up, and idles at the curb. I hand her enough money to get her home, or maybe to the bar. Now that she’s high, Nikki probably has no interest in sitting alone. “Don’t drive tonight.” I hold the door open for her, and she climbs inside.

  “I love you,” she says.

  “Nikki, if you really loved me, you would’ve never put me in this spot in the first place.” I close the door before she can respond, and walk away.

  Walking away from her is something I should’ve done a long time ago.

  Chapter 3

  Faith

  I’m laying on top of the neatly made bed when Matthew returns. The bedroom light is off, and I have an arm flung over my eyes. My head didn’t really hurt this morning, but it’s pounding now. I’ve spent the last few hours praying and crying, but mostly crying. What good will prayers do me now? I have to say something, but I am truly fearful of how he will react. Matthew has a temper like you wouldn’t believe. I didn’t believe it either at first.

  “You still aren’t feeling well, are you?” he asks, sinking down on the edge of the bed.

  I shake my head slightly, and try my best not to shrink away from his touch. The warmth of his hand on my shoulder feels like a lead weight holding me down.

  “Have you taken anything, sweetheart?”

  I nod, although I haven’t.

  If he is cheating on me, maybe that will be enough reason to leave. I’m not sure that my family will see it that way though. I can still recall a few hushed arguments I overheard back several years ago that revolved around forgiveness. It’s one of those things I don’t like to think about, something I wish fervently I had never learned in the first place. My mother forgave, and I suspect I’ll be expected to do the same.

  “Sarah Coleman was happy to fill in for you this morning during the morning praise, and I’m sure she can do the same tonight if you’re still not feeling well.”

  Maybe it’s Sarah, I think. I’ve seen the way she looks at him, but a lot of women look at Matthew. He’s something to look at, that’s how my mother phrased it to my aunt when he first came on as the associate pastor at the church. I used to think he was something to look at too, back before we were married, and I got to know the real Matthew Ward.

  When Matthew first started looking in my direction, I felt surprise more than anything. There are far prettier girls than me at Mount Zion Holiness Temple. The only thing that ever set me apart from any of them is my voice, or so I thought at the time. It wasn’t until after we were married, and I found a picture of Matthew’s late wife that I understood the way I looked played a huge part in catching his eye.

  “We need to talk,” I say, sitting up, and scooching over a few inches so his leg no longer touches mine.

  Matthew tilts his head to the side, and waits patiently with a questioning expression.

  “Tell me the truth, Matthew. Are you cheating on me?”

  His face shifts in a flash to rage. “Do we really need to have this discussion again?”

  “It’s a yes or no question.”

  “No, Faith. I’m not cheating on you.”

  “Can you explain this?” I lean over to grab the torn, foil edge from the small box on the bedside table.

  Matthew blinks a few times. For a split second he appears alarmed, then his features quickly smooth out. “I’m not sure what you want me to say. It looks like a piece of trash.”

  “That’s what I thought too. I found it in your pants pocket, but it looks awfully similar to this.” I reach over to grab the unopened condom for comparison.

  “Where did you get that?” he asks in a sharp voice.

  “That’s not important, and that’s not what I’m asking you.”

  “But I am asking you. Where did you get this from, Faith?”

  “I-I… from Chrissy. Well, from her brother.”

  “Is that so?” His eyes narrow to slits. “I thought I told you I didn’t want you seeing that girl anymore.”

  Swallowing a lump at the back of my throat, I force myself to look him in the eye. “I thought I told you I’m a grown woman who can choose my own friends.”

  Matthew’s hands closed down around my wrists in a crushing grip, until both the condom, and the torn bit of condom wrapper fall from my grasp.

  “You’re hurting me.”

  “And how do you think having these baseless accusations flung at me feels? You don’t think that hurts?”

  “I-I’m sorry, but-”

  “There’s no but about it, and you’re not sorry. Do you do this kind of thing for attention?”

  “N-N0”

  “Maybe you’re the one cheating on me, hmm? You neglect your duties at church this morning to go have a chat with your friend’s brother, and somehow I’m the one under suspicion? You and that Chrissy always stuck together like glue. Birds of a feather-”

  “Stop trying to twist this around, and make me feel crazy. I’m not crazy!”

  “Sometimes I wonder, Faith.”

  “Something is going on, and I’m not crazy!”

  The pressure on my wrists increases, and my joint pops. Wincing, I start to cry. “Matt, stop it! You’re really hurting me, and… you’re going to leave a mark.”

  He drops my hands, and grabs my jaw so I have no choice but to look at him. “Why on earth would I cheat on you? Those vows I took, before you and God, I meant every word of them, but sometimes I wonder if you did. I love you, despite your many flaws, and there is no other woman on earth I want to be with, so you need to stop with this foolishness right now.”

  His grip on my jaw loosens, and he leans in to kiss me. I turn my head, and his mouth lands near my ear. “I don’t want to do this right now,” I say, but he doesn’t listen. He never does. “Matthew, stop.”

  He doesn’t stop. He takes me hand, puts it right where I can feel that he’s already hard. How can he want to have sex at a time like this? I’m bawling like a baby, but that happens sometimes during, or after. He’s never let it stop him before.

  Matthew tugs at the collar of my blouse. “Take this off.”

  I know how this goes if I don’t cooperate, but there is no way I’m going along this time. Before I felt obligated as his wife, but if he is being unfaithful why should I have to put up with this? When it becomes clear that I’m not going to do as I’m told, he does it for me. A few of the buttons go flying off around the room. Vacantly, I think that I’ll have to hunt them down later and sew them back on.

  Which one will it be this time? Me on my knees, with my hands restrained, and him at the back of my throat so I can’t breath, or him inside me with his hand wrapped around my neck, so I can’t breath.

  Matthew likes to exert control over me in all things, going so far as to control if I can suck air into my lungs or not.

  I’m sick to death of putting up and shutting up. He’s going to hurt me no matter what I do, so I may as well say it. “Is this the sort of thing that Ruth liked? Because I’m not her, and I don’t like it. I hate the way you touch me. You can’t possibly think I enjoy this.”

  His eyebrows pinch together as he glares at me.

  I have no idea what Ruth Ward was really like, or what she liked. Maybe she enjoyed this type of stuff, but I sure don’t. I’m not talking about some kinky roleplay, like those goofy books about the billionaire that Chrissy is always going on about either. He actually wants to hurt me, for real. He gets off on hurting me, and he likes to inflict pain in other ways too.

  He goes out of his way to humiliate me in private. Nothing I do is good enough. Every single thing I cook is inadequate, and Ruth did it better.
Maybe I have a perfectly fine voice, but Ruth sang like an angel. I’m too bashful. I need to reach out and socialize more with the women of the church, like Ruth. He presided over a far larger congregation when they lived in Chapel Hill, and Ruth could tell you the name of every single parishioner that attended, even the ones that only came on Easter and Christmas. I’m disobedient, disrespectful, and too opinionated when it is just the two of us, and in his opinion I would do well to learn my place, like Ruth.

  Matthew is cruel in ways I never predicted while we dated. He was a totally different man during our one year courtship, and the years I knew him prior, but the night of our wedding I got a painful and violent preview of what our married life would be. I expected it to hurt a bit, being my first time, but it didn’t have to hurt that much. I saved myself. I waited, and all I got for it… I don’t like to think about that night. I wish I could erase it from my memory, along with the entirety of the last nine months.

  Marrying him was a mistake. Sometimes I wish he really would leave a mark on me, so I would have proof that the Matthew Ward everyone thinks they know is a mask, and the real man beneath that mask is a monster.

  I wasn’t praying earlier that my suspicions are false. I wasn’t even praying for a change in Matthew. I was praying for a way out, and I have been for months now. If I walk away from this man, and this marriage, I’m also walking away from that church, and everything connected to it, including my family. My whole life is tied up with Matthew Ward, and I don’t have a penny to my name, he makes sure of that.

  I’m trapped. Isolated. Alone. Lately when I pray, I don’t think anyone is listening. I haven’t felt listened to for a while now.

  At the mention of Ruth, his eyes get hard as stone. Matthew is allowed to talk about her, but I’m not. “You need to watch your mouth, Faith.”

  “Do you pretend like I’m her? Is that why you wanted me in the first place?”