Honeysuckle

By Cynthia Williams

A year ago, Louisa lived in the city with her son, Joey. Life was hard as a single mom, but at least the constant fighting was over since she left her husband, Brody. Now, she has her own new apartment, and it’s all hers with no bad memories of the past. It’s small and quiet—maybe too quiet sometimes—but Louisa feels her life is headed in the right direction.

When Josh comes into the clerk’s office where Louisa works, there are no fireworks. It’s not love at first sight, but she does enjoy his attention and starts a new relationship. Josh brings so many good things into she and Joey’s lives. He’s funny and generous, helping to pay her bills and give Joey gifts.

The first time he hits her, she blames it on the pressure Josh is facing at work, but as the abuse continues, Louisa fears for both her son’s life and her own. Louisa turns to the only person who can help: her ex-husband Brody. Together, they travel a dark path to get Josh out of Louisa’s life for good. Can this long-time victim transform into a hero to protect the people she loves?

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Apr 25, 2022
• ISBN: 9781663232106

Cynthia Williams

Cynthia D. Williams, a multi-talented, high-spirited author with a unique eye for detail with an inspirational essence, which flows throughout her writing. She shares not only her world with her readers but her openness to cross barriers. She looks at her broad array of experiences as a foundation to all that she creates. She is not afraid to look within and share her mind, her stories, and her awareness of many topics that are not restricted by theme or genre. She is a universal conscious channeler, writer, artist, teacher, guide, and healer who has made it a priority in her life to inspire others to be who they would like to become. Her unique and eccentric experiences that shaped her views upon existence started at a young age, which inspired her to look beyond the veil of illusion and listen not to opinions or current trends but to the pure definition of nothingness where all is possible and created by existence as a whole.

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Copyright © 2022 Cynthia Williams.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-6632-3209-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6632-3210-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022907743

iUniverse rev. date:   04/25/2022

Contents

AUTHOR’S NOTE

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

AUTHOR’S NOTE

We live in uncertain times in an uncertain world. As we move forward, one step at a time, we are almost always forced to sidestep, bob and weave, or dance and fall.

The movements in our lives are not choreographed, balanced, or beautiful. Life is messy. It does not always go as we imagined. And there are not happy endings to every struggle.

The struggle is hard. Our screams are deafening. The tears can drown. And the pain, the pain is beyond belief.

Stories help us find a voice and meaning. They help us to find where we fit in and to see a chance at a future. Sometimes they just verify our existences. Good or bad, wrong or right, the stories are us. All of us.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This story is not real to me, but it is real to someone. This book is dedicated to anyone who reads it and finds himself or herself within. Also, to any who read this, see themselves, and find a voice or hope or solace or even just a reason to read it again.

And to my husband, who spent countless hours alone as I typed. Whose encouragement and belief in me held me up and fed my spirit.

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1

L OUISA DRAGGED HERSELF OUT of the wreckage, reaching for the gun just a few feet away. She felt the warmth of her blood running down the side of her face. But she knew she had to reach the gun. She did not want these to be her last moments, even as she heard his footsteps approaching.

Nice try, Louisa, he said, standing over her. With the sun at his back, she could only see a black, shadowy outline. You almost made it. Too bad about that last turn.

Louisa lay still, her fingers stretched toward the gun that now wouldn’t save her. She thought of Joey. Only four years old and soon to be without his mom. She couldn’t stop the tears even though she swore to herself he would never see her cry. How did this ever get so far out of control? At least Joey will still have his father, she thought. She recalled her last conversation with Brody about getting together to talk. To reconcile.

But none of that mattered now. As she lay on the ground, watching him reach the gun before her. He almost killed her tonight in her own home. It was the worst of the beatings. Now, as he stood over her, he said, I am your life, and I am your death. There are no others. Especially that pretty boy Brody. I alone will show you what a man is. And trying to leave me is a fatal mistake!

Louisa turned her head toward his voice. She refused to die as a coward, looking away and crying. She willed the tears to stop as she looked him right in the eyes.

He raised the gun. As she opened her mouth to beg for her life, a loud crack echoed through the wooded ditch. She put her head facedown in the dead leaves and grass. At first she thought he missed. But how could he? He was standing so close. She turned back to the man, and he no longer stood there. He lay facedown, the ground around his head turning red and then almost black as blood seeped across the ground. He was dead. But how? Who? And then she heard someone call her name. It was Brody.

Brody reached down and pulled Louisa the rest of the way out of the car. She had so many questions, but right now, all she could do was lean into his arms and cry. He held her,