Free Fall

Chapter 17

Not long after Orlando helps me get cleaned up and leaves me sitting numbly in the middle of my king sized bed, I hear the apartment door open and hushed voices coming from down the hall.

"Where the f*ck is she?"

Damian's harsh tone breaks me from my daydream and I look up as he throws our bedroom door open. I can feel the anger rolling off of him and filling the room.

Orlando appears in the doorway seconds behind him.

"Don't do this, Man."

"Stay the f*ck out of this, Orlando," even as he speaks to his friend, Damian watches me with eyes full of a mess of anger and pain that reflects my insides.

Orlando and I look at each other fleetingly before he backs out of the doorway, looking wary.

"You lied to me. You knew, didn't you?"

I look back at Damian. I stand up from the bed to face him. "What? Day, knew what?"

"You knew you were pregnant, and you got rid of it. Didn't you?"

"What?" I shriek. "Of course n—"

"Then why did you say those things last night? Why were you so angry that I bought up having kids? You didn't even tell me, you just killed it."

"Damian, listen to yourself. What are you saying? I would never!"

There's no recognition of my words on Damian's face. There's no love for me in his eyes.

He shakes his head and takes a step back, toward the door.

I step into him and take his face in my hands.

"Look at me. I love you. I would never do this, Day. I'm just as scared, hate this just as much as you do."

Damian pushes my hands away and shakes his head, but says nothing.

"Please don't go, don't leave me alone," I beg him.

"I can't believe you. You're sick," he says so softly, sounding so broken, and then turns and leaves me alone.

Orlando catches me before I hit the floor and cradles me again as I cry so hard that the pain in my head and throat almost surpass the agony in my chest.

***

The next two days are a blur. Orlando hardly ever leaves my side. He takes care of me like I'm his old mother on her death bed. He practically has to force feed me a few times to get me to eat anything. Even then, I don't keep much of it down.

Three days after Damian found out about the miscarriage and left me, he sends two men to the penthouse to pack several boxes of his things—just necessities like clothes and anything important in his office.

It's obvious what the message is: this is still his home, but not while I'm here.

The men he sends leave a gift for me. A small jewelry box with an engagement ring. It's simple, like Damian knew I wanted, and both our names are engraved on the underside.

"I can send it back to him," Orlando offers when he finds me with it on the floor of the bedroom.

I tell him I want to keep it.

I find an old silver chain from a necklace I'd since lost the charm for and string the ring on it so I can wear it around my neck. It gives me a weird sort of solace, a physical reminder of his cruelty that can remind me to stay angry with him.

"How can he love me and accuse me of something like this? How can he abandon me at a time like this? Those things don't line up. I don't know who I was kidding. Everything—our entire relationship...it was always just about owning me, possessing me," I profess, more to myself than anything.

Orlando, who I didn't realize was listening, says, "He's hurting, just like you. But he's being cruel. Maybe you should—"

He doesn't finish his thought.

"Should what?" I press.

He shakes his head. "I'm just thinking."

"About what?"

"How to get you out of here. Where to send you."

I turn on the sofa to look at him, feeling more clarity and emotion sweep through me than I've felt in days.

"You can't take the private plane, he'd be able to track you."

I swallow hard and remind myself of what Orlando went through the last time he betrayed Damian, and on a much smaller scale than this. I can't sacrifice him to Damian's rage again.

"Orlando, I can't ask you to do this."

He looks at me, all confidence. "You haven't asked me. This is my choice. You need to get out of here."

"He'll find me," I counter. "There's nowhere I could go where he wouldn't find me."

He nods. "I know. But at least you'd have time. You can't mourn the death of your child while Damian holds his pain over your head. The only way your relationship ever has a chance of surviving is if you have time."

I let myself start to feel excited and I stand up, look around.

"Um, what should I do? Pack something?"

"I'll help you start packing. A lot of your jackets and shoes have trackers in them. I'll show you what to take."

He starts to lead me to the bedroom, then stops and looks frazzled for a moment.

"You're going to need new IDs. I'll call my guy and I'll book you a flight for tomorrow afternoon, it's the soonest we could get them done."

"That's—that's fine. It's good."

He pulls out his phone and then pauses, looks up at me.

"Are you sure you want this? We can't go back."

"I don't know, but I have to do something."