was leaving Anderson, this flat, this godawful life I had with him, and I wasn’t looking back. I felt sick to my stomach as I kept jumping at every noise. I grabbed a bag and shoved some clothes inside, followed by my purse and a spare pair of shoes. My gut was churning, and I looked over my shoulder every few seconds out of blind fear.
After our fight Anderson had left the flat, saying he needed to cool down before he did something he would regret. Punching me in the face and making me cry were apparently not things he regretted doing, but he would regret them later. I knew what was going to happen next. He would come back to me with a gift, likely flowers, and he would be on his knees, crying, as he apologised for hurting me. But this time he wasn’t getting my forgiveness.
When the small bag was packed, I got dressed. I changed out of my pyjamas and put on a pair of thick leggings, a T-shirt and a hoodie, followed by my coat. I slid my feet into socks and my trainers, and put my hair up into a bun on the top of my head. I didn’t need anything else, but I hesitated because I had nowhere to go. I knew in my heart that my parents would come for me, but I couldn’t trust my father not to attack Anderson if he showed up. I couldn’t risk him getting arrested, because Anderson would spin the situation in his favour. He was a master manipulator; he could argue with God that He was really the Devil and he would somehow come out on top.
“Elliot,” I whispered.
I had no right to call him. Just the simple thought of him caused my chest to ache with need. I loved him – I loved him so much and I always had – but I’d ruined everything with my own stubbornness. I couldn’t call AJ as I’d cut him off too. I’d cut everyone off, because Anderson made me. He was the only person I needed – that’s what he’d said. And I’d believed him too. I shook my head as I left the bedroom and then paused by the house phone.
“Bailey.” I blinked. “Bailey.”
I hadn’t spoken to her in years, but she would help me, I knew she would. I picked up the phone and dialled the number I remembered, and hoped it was the one she still used. The phone rang a few times, and I held my breath as I waited for an answer.
“Hello?”
“Hey.” I cleared my throat. “Hey, Bailey?”
“Hiya,” came her response. “Who’s this?”
“It’s Noah,” I said. “Noah Ainsley.”
Using my maiden name felt good, and also like a big fuck you to Anderson.
There was a pregnant pause, then a whispered, “Noah?”
“Yeah,” I answered. “It’s me, Bails.”
There was a rustle on the other end of the line as if she was moving, then I heard her breathing.
“Ye haven’t phoned me in years,” she said. “Ye don’t even look at me when ye see me on the street.”
There was no hate in her voice, no accusation or bitterness, only hurt.
“I’m so sorry, Bailey,” I said, my voice cracking. “I’ve been . . . I’ve been stuck for a very long time. I’ve been trapped in this world with Anderson, and I’m finally seeing now that it’s not a world I have to remain part of if I don’t want to. And I really don’t want to.”
I heard Bailey’s gasp. “You’re leavin’ him, aren’t ye?”
“Yes,” I answered. “But I need help. He’s out right now and I have nowhere to go. This is my only chance.”
“I’ll come for ye,” Bailey announced. “I’ll come and pick ye up, Noah.”
I released a nervous breath. “Really?”
“Of course, but why d’ye want to leave, tonight of all nights?” she demanded, and when I didn’t answer right away, she cursed under her breath. “Has he hurt ye, Noah?”
“Don’t tell Elliot,” I blurted. “He’ll kill Anderson.”
Things had ended badly between us but I knew him . . . he was a real man. He’d go ballistic if he knew how Anderson had been treating me all these years – how he’d abused me in more ways than just physical. Even though I’d hurt Elliot and hadn’t given him the chance to speak to me when I should have, I knew he would still come to my aid. That was the kind of man he was: a gentleman.