Disappear

By Linda Oaks

Where do you hide when there's nowhere left to run?

My life was an illusion built on fear, until one day, fate intervened.

I tried to run.

I tried to hide.

I tried to disappear.

At a small bed and breakfast in the middle of nowhere, I found myself, and then, he found me... Gus Gallagher, my aunt's next-door neighbor.

He was persistent. He was everything I feared and everything I wanted. He was determined to win me over, but I was determined to drive him away. The possibility of more could never become a reality, not with him.

Soon though, I learned he was everything I needed.

The life I live now is an illusion based on deception. This time though, the lies I tell are my own. I knew eventually I'd get caught in my own web of deceit, but this wasn't my choice.

In the shadows the past is lurking; patiently waiting and set on revenge.

My life was unbearable until the day I decided to disappear.

My name is Laney Sloane and this is my story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Painted Hearts Publishing
• Release date: Dec 19, 2018
• ISBN: 9781946379900

Linda Oaks

Linda Oaks has always had a passion for books. At the age of five, she was a book ofthe month club member. Her love for books eventually led her to a love of writing. Sheresides in Eastern Kentucky with her husband, two children, three dogs and a petrabbit named Dozer. She can be found on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. She canalso be reached by email at [e-mail]. She loves connecting withher readers.

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Disappear

Linda Oaks

Disappear

Copyright © 2018 Linda Oaks

Published by Painted Hearts Publishing

Smashwords Edition

About the eBook You Have Purchased

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Unauthorized reproduction of distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Disappear

Copyright © 2018 Linda Oaks

ISBN 10: 1-946379-90-5

ISBN 13: 978-1-946379-90-0

Publication Date: December 2018

Author: Linda Oaks

Editor: Lili Booth

All cover art and logo copyright © 2018 by Painted Hearts Publishing

Cover Design by E Keith

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

Chapter One

Dull brown eyes stared back at me in the mirror. How or when I’d lost myself, I didn’t remember, but the girl I’d once been— the one who’d loved to laugh, who loved life… she wasn’t there in my reflection, not anymore. A tired sigh whispered past my lips. I forced myself to shove the depressing thought aside and tucked a dark strand of hair behind one of my ears. There wasn’t enough time in my day for self- pity. Picking up a tube of lipstick from the bathroom counter, the sudden click of the front door echoed throughout the silence of the house.

Shit, I muttered, quickly shoving the lipstick back inside the cosmetic bag and throwing it into an opened drawer. Victor despised clutter. Hurrying from the room, I plastered a wide smile on my lips. One, I wasn’t feeling. He insisted, I greet him at the door, just like a proper wife should, but today of all days, I’d lost track of time. It was such a foolish mistake on my part. As soon as my eyes met his, I knew this evening would not go the way I’d planned or even hoped.

He remained silent and stared straight through me with narrowed eyes. Nervously, I run my hands along my upper thighs, my denim jeans coarse beneath my palms. Filled with unease, I forced myself to walk the remainder of the way across the room to join him. It was all I could do not to turn around and run, but Victor loved the chase just a little too much, and if I ran… it would only end badly for me. My throat grew tight, a giant ball of unease making it difficult to swallow.

Hazel eyes remained locked on mine. He turned, closing the door behind him. The lock clicked into place. He set his cooler against the wall directly underneath the key rack in the exact same location he did every evening. This time though, our routine differed. He didn’t hang up his keys. Instead, they remained clenched in one of his big fists. His knuckles were white, and my stomach began to churn. The telling tightening around his mouth proclaimed his displeasure. Bushy brown eyebrows lowered menacingly, drawing my attention to the pronounced v now residing in-between his eyes. Clearly, he was pissed.

Silently cursing myself for my own stupidity, I forced a bright smile and came to a stop standing before him. My gaze momentarily flickered from his to the dirty blue and white cooler sitting next to the wall. Drawing in a deep breath, I bent down intending to retrieve it, trying not to draw attention to the change in our routine, even though I know I’ve royally screwed up this time. His expectations made me sick. Every evening when he arrived home from work, I’d take his cooler into the kitchen, emptying the remaining contents inside and meticulously scrubbing away the dust and dirt of the day from the plastic.

Hard fingers curled around my wrist taking me by surprise. My breath hitched in my throat. My mouth parted in a soundless O. Please God, no. My hands began to tremble, and I froze in place; afraid to move, afraid to speak. My eyes immediately snapped to his.

What in the fuck do you think you’re doing? he growled, his voice low and menacing, his fingers tightening around the bones of my wrist painfully grinding them together. Tears pricked my eyes. For a second, a flicker of emotion registered within his stare. Delight, maybe? Victor loved any show of weakness, so I fought to keep my emotions in check, my smile firmly tacked in place despite the pain he inflicted. He loved nothing better than to make me cry.

I was using the bathroom, I said, lying through my teeth as I straightened to stand before him. His gaze drifted from mine to the station wagon keys hanging on the rack. His cruel lips curled upward into a grin as he lifted the keys from their hook and deposited them into the front pocket of his jeans.

A sudden increase in pressure had an unwilling gasp parting my lips. That look, I knew it only too well. The look of a lion waiting to pounce on its unsuspecting prey, but I wasn’t unsuspecting. Sometimes, I wished I were. I was aware of what was going to happen next, and like the prey within the lion’s grasp, I waited with bated breath. Please Victor, let’s not to do this, not today. It’s our anniversary.

Pot roast simmered in the oven, the smell filtered throughout the room making me queasy. Despite my best intentions, a tear streaked down my cheeks, and it was then, he smiled. Oh no. After dinner, you promised, we would go to the theater, I quickly reminded him, my words were rushed and panicky. Maybe, I could turn this around. There was still time. Trevor is already next door at Julie’s. We have the rest of the night to ourselves.

There were only a few places I was permitted to travel without him, and every time I left the house, I had to call and check in with him. It was imperative he knew my every move. Victor controlled every aspect of our lives, but to the outside world, he was the nicest guy you’d ever met; laid back, witty and devilishly handsome. It was only here, within the walls of our home, he became who he hid…a monster. My life was his. He forbids me to work. My job entailed keeping our home, taking care of Trevor and making him happy; a task I failed on a day-to-day basis.

Less than eight months into our marriage was the first time Victor laid a hand on me. The blow hadn’t hurt. More than anything, the fact that he’d struck me had left me momentarily stunned. At the time, I’d been pregnant with our son, Trevor. My Victor, the man I’d dated for a year, whom I’d eagerly agreed to his proposal of marriage, and was supposedly happily married to would never lay a hand on me in anger, especially not over something as trivial as a bag of garbage waiting in the kitchen to be taken outside to the trash bin. Of course, he apologized, claiming work was stressing him out. It would never happen again, he’d said reassuring me, but he lied. It did happen again, over and over.

There was nothing I could do to stop his abuse, no way to diffuse the situation. Unsuccessfully, I had tried more than once, and it only seemed to enrage him more. Nothing I did was right. It was impossible to please him. The mention of counseling had earned me a busted lip and black eye. The one and only time I’d tried to leave him, he made sure it would never happen again. For two days, I’d crawled throughout the house, trying to take care of Trevor and myself. In a rage, he’d beaten me black and blue. He’d also threatened to take Trevor from me. He was right, who would believe me?

There was no hope of repairing the fracture that had splintered our perfect lives. It wasn’t long until I came to conclusion, there was no way I would ever escape him. I became his own personal punching bag, his way of coping with life when things didn’t go as expected or planned, paying the penance for each one of his failures and his unhappiness.

My love for him was quickly replaced with mistrust and fear, and eventually over time grew to hate. I despised Victor Edgar Sloan, upstanding citizen, devoted father, loving son and pillar of the community. Gone was the happy girl of yesterday who now was only a distant memory. Selfishly, Victor had killed her with his cruel words and fists. After three years of marriage, there was no longer any doubt in my mind that eventually he would kill me for real.

A hard hand struck the side of my face, his knuckles cracking against my cheekbone. My head jerked back, pain exploding behind my right eye. The right side of my face throbbed. A startled cry burst from my throat when his hand clamped over my mouth. As if I were nothing more than a rag doll, he yanked me against his bulky frame. His thick arm tightened around my ribs, squeezing the breath from my lungs.

Against my back, his chest heaved with excitement. Tears streamed down my cheeks. The coppery tang of blood coated my tongue as he ground his palm against my lips and teeth, his fingers digging into my skin. My nostrils flared desperately dragging in air as it became difficult to breathe. If I fought him, it would only make matters worse.

You know what’s going to happen now, don’t you Laney?

His hot breath reeked of peppermint, and I fought against the urge to gag as bile crept up the back of my throat. Go fix my plate, now, he ordered, suddenly shoving me away from him. Pain shot up my arm as my elbow struck the corner edge of the kitchen counter.

Biting my lower lip, I quieted the muffled sobs threatening to escape. There was nothing that could save me now. It was too late. When had I become this person? This shell of who I was. How had I allowed this to happen? Now, he growled menacingly, rattling me from my thoughts. Don’t make me tell you twice.

My eyes met his, my body trembled. A smile stretched across his lips, transforming his handsome face. Victor’s smile had been the first thing that attracted me to him. Now, the sight of it sickened me with disgust.

We’d met on the job. I’d been hired as a temp to cover for the current secretary on maternity leave at the construction firm where he worked. As the time drew near for her return, she ended up resigning, and gave up her position to stay at home with her child. The job became mine. My first morning at the firm, Victor had walked into the office requesting an invoice. From there, the rest was history.

Standing at six one, he was a powerhouse of rippling muscle. Victor liked to take care of himself and regularly visited the gym. From the outside, he was truly stunning; masculine perfection at its finest. He was the type of man who could entice any woman’s heart to flutter just from the mere sight of him.

With thick, sandy blond hair, striking features and a set of deceiving dimples framing his slim lips, one look into those hazel green eyes of his had me falling head over heels. The falling, well, that had been the easy part. He’d been charming; showering me with attention, affection and gifts. He made it entirely too easy for me to fall in love with him.

Eight months later, he’d dropped to one knee after dinner at Cliché’s, a popular restaurant in the city of Dallas. It was there, he proposed, and it was one of the happiest moments in my life. Of course, I’d said yes. Who wouldn’t?

When I was a young girl, I’d dreamt of the fairytale, and there he’d stood before me, my prince charming and he was asking for my hand, but as with all good fairytales, there is also tragedy. Soon came the realization of the lie I would be forced to live. After the first incident, my world began to crumble, slowly caving in around me.

Turning in my resignation at work, I’d planned a wedding in less than two months’ time. Victor and I were married in a small, quaint church in his hometown with only a few close friends and immediate family in attendance. His parents, they were wonderful. My life was a dream come true.

Without a second thought, I’d given up my tiny flat and moved into his house before we even said our I do’s. For our honeymoon, he’d thought of everything, booking a luxury cruise for the two of us. For a week, he pampered me shamelessly. Often, I’d found myself thinking how did I ever get so lucky to marry a man like him? A month and a half later, I missed my period and discovered we were expecting. Victor had been thrilled with the news, and at that time, it seemed our lives would only get better from there.

Exactly one month before my due date, the incident occurred. Of course, I’d forgiven him. At the time that slap had seemed so insignificant, but that one small act had been the beginning of the end; the end of my fairytale and our undoing. Exactly six weeks following the birth of our son, my nightmare began and still to this day, I wished I could wake and discover it had only been a bad dream.

Lifting the platter from the oven, his chair scraped loudly across the kitchen floor as he took his seat. The hair at the nape of my neck stood at attention. With trembling hands, I quickly filled his plate and turned, walking over to the table to set his meal before him on the placemat next to his napkin, silverware and glass. Victor didn’t like to be kept waiting. He wasn’t a patient man.

I feel like a beer tonight, he commented, taking a bite of the tender meat and vegetables.

At hearing those words, my mind raced, doubt creeping in. Saliva pooled in my mouth almost choking me. Shit, I’d forgotten to buy his beer. I was so stupid. "Victor, how about a glass of sweet tea instead? I made it earlier." My words were barely above a whisper, my voice shaking. He laid down his fork in his plate, eyeing me.

"I don’t want fucking sweet tea. Are you fucking deaf? Did I ask for fucking tea?’ he growled, and then began to eat once more chewing a mouthful of food meticulously, his face calm as his hazel eyes regarded me. The urge to run swallowed me alive. I couldn’t do this, not anymore, but I have no choice. He would hurt me. Maybe, even kill me.

You forgot to get it, didn’t you, Laney? he asked, and I nodded, tears seeping slowly down my cheeks. He pushed himself away from the table and sighed loudly. Laney, you are such a disappointment. What is your job? he asked in a condescending tone, crossing his bulging arms over his broad chest.

To take care of the house, you and Trevor. I replied woodenly, wishing I were a million miles away from here, away from him.

Are you doing your job? he asked, his expression impassive as he waited for an answer.

Victor, it was only beer, I murmured, hoping he would understand what a big deal he was making over nothing, and it was then, I realized my mistake. He reached for me. Automatically, I took a step back. His eyes widened. Shit. What had I done?

With my heart pounding, I moved closer to him. I’m so sorry. Trevor and I will make a trip to the grocery in the morning and I’ll buy beer. I’m sorry, Victor. The words flew from my mouth like vomit.

You’re sorry, he echoed, his lips flattening into a thin, disapproving line. I’m the one who’s sorry I’ve had to put up with your shit for three years. You are fucking worthless. Go get my tea, cunt.

Fear sliced through my veins, my vision blurred by tears. I turned, hurrying to the refrigerator and removed the pitcher of tea. Walking back across the floor to him, I tried to think of a way I could make this better, but nothing came to mind. I’d already crossed the line with him, and once that line was crossed…there was no turning back. Yesterday whenever Trevor and I had gone to the grocery, he’d been cranky, and I’d wanted to hurry back home. The beer must have slipped my mind.

Hesitantly, I glanced at him from beneath my lashes and poured his tea. His expression was impossible to read, but as sure as breath filled my lungs, I knew I would have to pay for what I’d done. The smell of the roast was making me sick. One of his hands settled at my waist, and when I set the pitcher of tea on the table glancing over at him, he squeezed my hip; his grip firm, possessive and cruel.

What happens now, Laney? he inquired, eyeing me as he continued to eat.

You’ll have to punish me? I asked, and he nodded calmly reaching for his tea. With his eyes on me, he raised his glass, taking a drink and then sitting it back down on the table. The clock in the kitchen ticked loudly. My chest grew tight.

How do you propose I punish you? he asked.

He pushed his plate forward; a sign he was finished with his meal. Quickly, I reached for the plate intending to take it away, but he moved lightning fast, his fingers curling around my wrist. My eyes collided with his. How do I punish you? he asked once again, unable to hide his delight this time.

No dinner, I suggested, and he threw back his head, laughing. That sound, that once filled me with so much happiness now only added to my unease.

Now, Laney, he murmured, shaking his head sadly as he clucked his tongue. That’s not a fitting punishment for your fuck up.

Let’s just put this behind us, Victor. We can still have a good anniversary, I pleaded, but he shook his head, his fingers tightening around my wrist as he tapped his fingertips against the tabletop, his nails striking the wood hard. The sound echoed in my ears fueling my fear.

You want to put this behind us? he asked, and a ghost of smile curved my lips as I anxiously nodded my head. More than anything, I wanted this to end. There’s only one way we can salvage this evening, Laney.

Dread curled in my stomach, my muscles clenching in rebellion. He released my wrist and turned in his chair stretching his long legs out before him. His eyes held mine, his lids lowering. Through hooded eyes, he watched me. The lion toying with the gazelle. I knew what he wanted.

Swallowing nervously, I moved forward, stepping into the narrow v between his legs. Keeping my gaze focused on him, I knelt before him. Receiving no protest, my fingers trembled encountering the metal tab of his jeans. I unhooked the button and slid down the zipper. His nostrils flared, and he licked his lips. What I used to do out of love was now a necessity to my survival, and I hated it as much as I hated him. Hate was too mild of a word to describe how much I despised having him inside my mouth.

Often, I imagined using my teeth, but then he’d kill me. A soft sigh whispered past his lips, and he nodded reclining in his chair. That was my cue. He lifted his hips helping me ease down his jeans and underwear. He was already erect, and at the sight of him sitting before me so smug and at ease, I wanted to squeeze my eyes tightly shut. I wanted to scream. Just get it over with, Laney.

My hands gripped his hair-roughened thighs as I inched closer and lowered my head. His hands fisted in my hair. He wasn’t gentle. Make it good or you’ll be sorry, he grunted, forcing my head up and down. Vomit swam in the back of my throat, and I closed my eyes allowing my mind to go blank. Don’t think about it, Laney.

He barked out commands; tighter, faster, yanking on my hair. When warmth flooded my mouth, I gagged as his hand wrapped around my throat, squeezing tight. Don’t you spill a fucking drop, he ordered, his thighs trembling beneath my hands. I nodded, tears burning my eyes. He loosened his grip from around my throat, his hand slipping from my hair as I sat back on my heels staring up at him.

That was good, wasn’t it, sweetheart? he asked, and I rubbed the ache in my neck plastering a fake smile on my lips as my stomach threatened to heave. The thought of what I’d done sickened me. I let him use me repeatedly. Only a weak person would allow someone to have this kind of control over them. I was weak, and I hated myself for letting him treat me like this. The thought of spending the rest of my life with him was unbearable. I couldn’t live this way, always cowering in fear and crushed beneath his thumb.

Wearing a cocky grin, he stood above me. His gaze on me as he pulled up his pants and underwear tucking himself inside. His hand remained in his underwear as he watched me. His eyes lowered, and it was then, he began to stroke himself. My jaw tightened, my fingers curling around my knees. Please, no more tonight. Since it’s our anniversary, I want you to go into the bedroom, and put on something sexy and wait for me.

When my eyes widened, he began to laugh. Oh, we’re not done yet, Laney, not by a long shot. Was that what you thought? he snarled, his expression turning ugly. There would be no sympathy from him, not that I expected it anyway. You thought you’d suck me off and everything would be roses. You’re so fucking stupid. Move your big fat ass, he grabbed my arm, jerking me to my feet as I struggled to stand. Clean yourself up and wipe that shit off your face. I like the red one, Laney and you better be wearing it when I get in there. Now, move. I did as he commanded.

With my back to him, there was the sound of his footsteps falling across the floor and then the flat screen television turning on in the living room. My jaw throbbed, my throat hurt, and my body ached with misery. My soul was empty.

Silent tears streaked down my cheeks as I stepped through our bedroom door and walked over to the dresser taking out the red negligée he’d purchased last month for my birthday. I hadn’t worn it since then. A shudder racked my frame. At that thought of the night that still lay ahead, I crammed my fist into my mouth to keep from crying out loud as I struggled to control my emotions. Stop this, Laney. Go and get ready. Don’t make him any angrier than he already is.

Hurrying into the bathroom, I turned on the shower and began to sob. My stomach clenched. I dropped the red scrap of fabric to the floor quickly lifting the toilet seat and threw up. My body wanted no part of him.

There had been times I’d prayed for the strength to end it, but still here I remained trapped in my own personal hell with Victor as my warden. Leaving wasn’t an option, and there was Trevor, my precious baby boy to think of. He was the only joy I had in this life, and I wouldn’t allow that monster to destroy him too.

Just a little while longer, Laney, I told myself, and wiped a hand across my mouth drawing in a deep breath. Pushing myself to my feet, I began to undress and promptly placed my dirty clothes in the hamper. Everything had to be in order or else. Stepping beneath the shower’s hot, stinging spray, I closed my eyes and prayed for the strength to make it through the night.

***

The shrill beep of the alarm clock woke me. Shut that fucking thing off, Victor growled from beside of me. Naked, I jumped from the bed half-asleep and hurried to the dresser fumbling to turn off the alarm. He pushed himself up in the bed, a menacing shadow moving within the darkness, and turned on the lamp on the nightstand.

A soft glow of light immediately flooded the room. Blinking, I stared back at him, trying to focus. His eyes roved over my naked body as he leaned back against the headboard, his face relaxed. His blond hair was mussed from sleep. The blanket pooled low along his lean hips. Beneath his stare, I wanted to cover myself from his sight, but instead, I stood frozen in place. It was a little after six. He needed to get ready for work.

Come here, he ordered, and I wanted to scream no, but my feet were automatically carrying me across the room to him.

Standing at his side of the bed, I waited, anxiety streaking through my veins. He raised a hand reaching for me, and it was all I could do not to cringe. A single finger brushed the nipple of my right breast. At his touch, it pebbled even though all I felt for him was disgust. His hand cupped the weight of that one breast and then slipped down my ribs to my waist pausing at my hip. I didn’t want to do this, not again.

If you’re not pregnant by the end of the month, we’re going to see a doctor and find out why.

Victor wanted another child, but I did not, and he was currently unaware that I secretly continued to take my birth control pills. I would not have another child with this man. He yanked me down on the bed, and I landed on the mattress as he flipped back the sheet, his big naked body instinctively crawling over mine.

Trembling, I closed my eye as he shoved my legs apart and settled himself between my thighs. There was no fight left in me. What good would it do anyway? I couldn’t win.

We’re going to make a baby this morning. You remember these words, Laney, he said urgently, and I cringed as he pushed himself inside of me. My mind drifted as he rocked against me. I tried to block him out, but the sounds of his grunts of pleasure echoed like a cannon inside of my head. Please god, just let him hurry and finish.

With one final grunt, his body shuddered. He rolled over, stretching out on the mattress beside me and began to laugh. His chest was shaking, his deep, husky rumble filling the silence of room. Even though you’re not much to look at, you’ve got the best pussy on the planet, sweetheart.

My eyes held his, and he smiled. At least you’re good for something, right? He rose from the bed staring down at me. Don’t move, he barked, and I froze in place as he grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed. Lift your hips, he ordered, and I did as he commanded. One of his hands slid leisurely down my thigh, squeezing my knee. Stay put while I shower. Don’t ruin my day, Laney.

Heeding his warning, I nodded obediently. He was whistling as he walked over to the dresser. My eyes helplessly trailing after him. He grabbed a pair of underwear and socks from his drawer and then headed to the closet to take out his clothes. He walked across the floor eyeing me as I lay on the bed. Before closing the bathroom door, he smiled once more. Rage bubbled inside me. When the shower finally began, I drew in a deep breath wiping the tears from my cheeks. Little did Victor know that all his efforts were in vain.

Fifteen minutes later, the door opened. He stepped out of the bathroom and crossed the bedroom. Good girl, he said, sounding pleased. I was in the exact same position he’d left me in. Now go pack my lunch.

Scooting to the edge of the mattress, I stood suddenly feeling a gush of warm, sticky wetness between my thighs. Hold me in there, Laney, he ordered, and I nodded, secretly filled with a perverse sense of satisfaction that there would be no child from our union.

When I began to move towards the dresser, he held up his hand. I stopped, staring back at him. What now? I thought, I just wanted him to leave. You don’t need clothes. I don’t have time for you to dress.

He opened the bedroom door, smiling at me. For a change, he was in a good mood this morning. Walking past him, a squeal escaped my lips when a heavy hand landed on a cheek of my ass. Tears welled in my eyes. There was nothing tender or playful about his touch. That slap was meant to serve as a reminder of who was in charge here. My flesh smarted. He chuckled behind me. Red looks pretty on you.

Biting my lip, I hurried into the kitchen and grabbed his cooler as he made himself a cup of coffee. My hands trembled beneath the weight of his stare while I worked. Quickly, I cleaned and dried the cooler off. There was no dirt anywhere. It shone just like new. From behind me, I heard him huff. Tick tock, Laney. Get a fucking move on it, he growled. I can’t be late.

Pushing my thoughts aside, I focused on the task at hand and quickly packed his lunch then turned to face him. I’m finished, I announced, my voice breathless, and glanced at the clock. If he left now, he’d make it to work on time. It was only a twenty- minute drive. He drank a sip of his coffee