Eyes on Us Book 3

The silence was deafening.

I never really understood that saying until now. Lying on the floor, unable to move, waiting to see if he would come back. I longed for someone, anyone, to come find me and save me.

But it was just a quiet night in Arizona at my apartment complex. If no one came when they heard me screaming bloody murder, they definitely weren’t coming now that I had finally stopped.

It probably took me an hour to wake up. My head was pounding from all the kicks, and I was sure that I had a broken rib, maybe two. It hurt to breathe or even exist right now.

Once the divorce was finalized, I was so sure that this part of my life would be over. I felt safe for the first time in years.

He made me feel that I was safe from him for weeks, and when I heard the knock on the door tonight I didn’t even think twice about opening it before checking to see who it was.

Hope almost got me killed today, hope that I was finally going to live a normal life.

After three years of physical and mental abuse, I should have known better than to think that I was free from him just because we were now divorced.

He only gave me the divorce because I had twisted his arm with the domestic violence charges I had against him from the last time he beat me so bad that he actually caused me to miscarry his child.

Our baby…my baby.

When his lawyer said he would sign the divorce papers if I dropped the charges, I didn’t realize that he was going to be looking for revenge, but I also knew that he had the money and resources to drown me in legal fees.

It seemed like the right choice at the time. What else was I supposed to do?

It took another hour for me to be able to actually get up off the floor. When I passed out, it must’ve scared him enough to leave. I’m sure he probably thought that I was dead or soon to be.

He’s only ever beaten me like this one other time, and it was the last time he hurt me before I filed for divorce.

I slowly walked to my room. I tried to hurry. I didn’t want him coming back and finding me still here, still alive. It was so painful to breathe, but walking was the most excruciating pain I’ve ever felt.

My chest was on fire. My head felt like it was going to explode from all the pressure. Somehow I was able to stay up and not just completely collapse on the floor.

I slipped on my black Vans, I grabbed a black hoodie, and as I walked by the mirror in my room I almost gave myself a fright.

I had bruises on my face already, not to mention the swelling, including a bleeding head wound. My lip was really busted and swollen.

Sadly, he had done worse before, including giving me a concussion and two black eyes. This I could work with; really heavy makeup could hide this in a week or two.

I found the manila envelope that had everything I would ever need. Including a cell phone that he would never be able to trace.

I texted the only contact on this phone my location. A car would be arriving in ten minutes, so I hurried and packed a bag before it got here.

First things first, I grabbed every piece of jewelry and electronic device I could find. I would pawn them later for cash.

I couldn’t take anything from my bank where I had my settlement from the divorce. It was too risky. I didn’t want him finding me.

It was the beginning of summer, late April, so I packed leggings and shorts, along with just T-shirts and underwear. Anything else I would have to buy wherever I found myself.

I saw the lights of the car coming into the parking lot. I recognized it immediately as the ride I had called for. I put the hoodie on even though it was ninety degrees outside, and I silently said goodbye to everything I knew.

The bus was pulling into the station. Two days of riding on this bus. From Phoenix to Chicago. I was ready to be off of this damn bus and breathe actual air for longer than thirty minutes every couple hours.

As soon as the bus was stationed, everyone made their way out. I managed to be the first one off; I had to run to my train, but luckily it wasn’t too far, it was actually in the same station.

I was taken to a women’s shelter two days ago and presented with my options. I could try to press charges again or I could go into hiding.

I thought about pressing charges, but I knew how that would look in others’ eyes.

I’ve dropped the charges before, so would they believe me a second time? The truth was that they probably wouldn’t.

I chose to go into hiding. I am perfectly okay with leaving that old life behind. There’s nothing but pain when I look back and think about it. Plus there’s a chance he’ll give up and just let me be.

They gave me box dye, and I dyed my blonde hair a brown color. Then they gave me a bus ticket to anywhere I wanted to go.

I chose to go to Illinois. Newland Beach specifically; they have a connected women’s shelter there.

They’ve already agreed to let me stay while the bruises and wounds on my face heal, and I can find a job.

This was my new life. Low profile. My hope was that John would never find me ever again. Or that he’d forget about me. I prayed to God that he would just move on from me.

“Have you decided if you’re going to stay with us over the summer?” Ace asks me.

We’re sitting at Addie and Eric’s dining room table. Everyone is in conversation with each other. Everyone is loud, and it’s a very comforting sound.

Though I lost both my parents very young, being raised by my aunts and uncles with my cousins, I never felt like I was missing anything.

I take a sip of my beer and set it down on the table. I look at my cousin Ace; he was in charge of this next album. We usually all took turns.

He was organizing the songs we would be recording and which sound we were going to have for this next album, and he wanted us to stay in Newland Beach so we could all record.

“I haven’t decided.”

I had homes in LA and New York, so I was always back and forth. Chicago was where Ace settled down with Laney because that’s where she is from. I liked Chicago, but I don’t know if I could spend a whole summer there.

“Just come in May; we’ll get your recording done and do some fun stuff with Laney and the kids.” I smile. I could do a few weeks. I wouldn’t mind that.

I could even make it back to LA to see friends that I haven’t seen since the tour started last year.

“All right. I’ll be there in May.”

Ace smiles. “Your brother wrote some really good songs for this album. Has he shown them to you?” My brother, Kieran, was a damn prodigy when it came to writing music for the band and anyone else.

“No, he never does.” I usually never hear the songs until we are already recording them.

“I’m surprised he hasn’t left us to go solo; he’s always had the talent to do so.” I look at my brother, who is sitting across the table.

He’s talking to Addie, Eric’s wife. She is a supermodel; even after having two children, she still looks great.

My brother, though, he’s currently very high and drunk. But if you ask him, he’ll say that he’s barely had anything to drink.

“He loves this band too much to ditch us,” I say to Ace. It was true. Kieran would have to be dragged by force if he was ever kicked out, not that we ever would. He was a great bassist.

“What did he say?” Kieran asks. I swear he has a sixth sense for knowing when people are talking about him. I roll my eyes.

“Stop listening to our conversation, Kieran,” Ace says to him. “Actually, now that you’ve inserted yourself, your brother agreed to come in May to Newland Beach. How do you feel about coming then too?”

Kieran jumped seats so he wouldn’t have to yell. “Am I allowed to do what I please?” he asks Ace.

“To an extent. I have two children in the house; I don’t want you bringing random girls over to screw, and I don’t want you smoking in the house.” Kieran thinks about what he’s said.

“I can have alcohol though?” Ace chuckles.

“Sure.” Then Kieran shrugs; he’s always so chill about everything. He’s my older brother, and I look up to him so much.

I never say that out loud, us O’Callaghan boys are too proud to actually say it out loud, but I know he knows.

“Then it’s a deal.” And they shake hands.

“Ace said you wrote some good music,” I say to him.

Kieran stares at me for a moment. I decide to just keep talking.

“Where do you get all your inspiration? I hardly see you with the same girl twice, let alone long enough to write a love song about one of them.” Kieran rolls his eyes.

“It’s true, the only girl I’ve ever seen you actually hang out with more than once is Bizzy,” Ace says. She was our childhood friend.

There was a time in Kieran’s life where he was in a group home for a year; that’s where he met Bizzy, and they’ve been inseparable best friends ever since.

“You two don’t know my private life. I don’t have to explain myself to either of you,” Kieran says.

Before we could say anything else, he gets up from the table and goes into another room. I look at Ace. I guess we struck a nerve somewhere.

“He’s drunk and high. Just give him time to cool off,” Ace says to me, and I just nod.

Kieran could take care of himself. It was the one thing I knew to be true about him. He was always okay. He was the stable one out of the two of us.

I take a deep breath and just continue to talk to Ace about the upcoming album. It was time to focus on that.