Pursued Read online

  Pursued

  by Kristin Vayden

  Published by Astraea Press

  www.astraeapress.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

  PURSUED

  Copyright © 2013 KRISTIN VAYDEN

  ISBN 978-1-62135-156-6

  Cover Art Designed by AM Design Studios

  To my Husband, Harry. There’s not a day that goes by that I’m not utterly and completely thankful that you are mine. You’re better than any hero I could ever describe. I adore you with every fiber of my being.

  I love you.

  Prologue

  If you told me, seven years ago, that this would be my story, I would have laughed at you. Stuff like this didn’t happen to good girls like me. No. I was happy and thrilled with life. My husband loved me. I had one beautiful baby boy and another on the way. But, though I would have laughed at you, part of me would have wondered if maybe all the silent fears and suspicions I harbored were more than just the product of my overactive imagination. Perhaps they were premonitions of the future. But I would have disregarded the thought immediately. After all, didn’t I just say that stuff like that wouldn’t happen to someone like me? But we can’t see the future, can we?

  Chapter One

  “Mom? Um, can you come over?” I struggled to keep my tone as the tears poured off my face and wet the countertop on which I was leaning. How had my life come to this? My shoulders slumped under the weight of the world.

  “Sure, Abby. Is everything all right?”

  My mom’s tone was subdued, tender as she waited for me to respond. Of course she would ask that. I didn’t want to lie, but I didn’t want to tell her that type of news over the phone. Choosing the lesser of two evils, I nodded before answering. “It will be.” As my mind replayed all the horrific events of the past months, I listened for any noises from my kids’ room in case they had woken up early from the sound of my sobbing. Sure enough, I heard a little gurgle from Chase’s room. A small smile parted my lips enough to allow a taste of my salty tears as I rose and made my way to his room.

  “Okay…” she answered cautiously.

  Before she could ask me about my strange answer, I chose to distract her.

  “Mom, Chase is awake, I gotta go. I’ll see you whenever you can make it. Love you. Bye.” A moment later I tossed the phone onto the rocking chair in my baby’s room. Chase was squirming in an effort to free his hands from the secure bundling I had wrapped him with when I had put him down for his afternoon nap. The three-month-old was one of the few reasons I had to smile, him and Javan, his two-year-old brother.

  As I leaned over the crib to pick him up, I heard a thump, thump, thump from the other room that let me know that Javan was awake as well, kicking the wall. With Chase happy to be free and sucking on my shoulder, I left his room and went across the hall. I opened the door, and a blur of red hair ran out and into the living room. The toddler bounced up and down as he pretended to be a jackrabbit. My lips pulled into a wide grin in spite of the tears that still trickled down. With a silent prayer, I thanked Jesus for my children.

  Chase was hungry, so I sat on the couch and nursed him while keeping an eye on Javan, who was in the process of emptying out his basket of toys. Once the basket was empty he began to play with it, leaving his toys behind. A sigh escaped my lips, and I wondered, not for the first time, why I even bought toys when all he really wanted was pots, pans, plastic containers, and baskets.

  A knock on my door interrupted my thoughts, and I adjusted Chase so that I could walk and nurse at the same time. The knock sounded again, this time in a short rat, tat, tat, tat that let me know it was my mom. Javan heard the familiar knock and ran past me to the door, jumping up to try and see out the window. “Gamma! Gamma!” he shouted.

  “Hold on, baby. Step back so I can let grandma in, okay?” He obediently stepped back.

  “Hi Javan! How’s my handsome grandbaby? Did you miss Grandma?”

  My mom glanced to Chase, who was no longer nursing but staring intently at his grandma. Her grin at her littlest grandbaby was short-lived and turned to a frown as she regarded my face, no doubt noticing the tears.

  “Oh no, I knew something wasn’t right. I’m glad I came so soon.” Her forehead wrinkled with concern, and she glanced down to Javan. “Javan, dear?”

  He looked up expectantly.

  “Please let Grandma go. I need to get inside before we let all the bought air out.”

  Javan grinned and stepped back just enough to let my mother in, and the door close behind her, before he tackled her leg once more. She grunted at the force of his two year old body hitting her, but an indulgent grin spread across her face. She tossed her purse onto the side table and picked up Javan and carried him into the living room with me following behind.

  “Javan? Would you like to watch a movie?” I asked. His eyes lit up. After handing Chase to my mother, I set up the movie. With Javan settled down in the living room, my mom and I walked into the dining room.

  “Coffee?” I offered, knowing she’d need it.

  “Please.”

  The familiar motions of filling her cup and putting a splash of cream in were my only consolation against the anxiety building in my chest. Her eyes were intent on me as I moved about the kitchen. The coffee steamed as I set it in front of her, and she turned to place Chase in the baby-rocker next to the table.

  “Okay, what’s going on?”

  Her eyes searched my face, and I found myself glancing down. Why did I feel like a failure?

  “He left, Mom. I don’t know when or if he’s coming back. It’s over.”

  My mom’s expression was tender as she reached across the table and held my hand. Her fingers were warm from holding her coffee mug, and they felt comforting against my skin.

  “He didn’t want to go to counseling?”

  A brittle laugh escaped my lips. “No, I am the one with issues, not him.” I put my fingers up and made quotation marks in the air as I repeated his words to my mother.

  “Ah, I see.”

  After all, this was not an event that had blind-sided us. No, I’d had months of threats, torture, and verbal abuse, which had created the grand finale of my marriage, where my husband had listed every single defect concerning my body, personality, and upbringing. Of course, that was after he had told me he was no longer interested in being a father and, even more so, disgusted to be married to someone like me. Any self-confidence I had before that night was now gone, destroyed, and buried along with any hope for my marriage to the man I still loved.

  “How bad was it, sweetie?”

  “Bad, Mom.”

  “Had he been drinking?”

  “No.” Which made everything hurt even worse. If he had been drunk, then it would have been easy to disregard half of what he said.

  “Well.” She leaned back and closed her eyes. “At least we know.”

  The truth of the statement was striking. Yes, I did know. I was no longer under the constant pressure of having the perfect smile, perfect body, immaculate house, and saying the perfect things at all times. In fact, I was free. My newfound freedom had come at a steep price, though. Immediately my thoughts went to Javan and Chase. They were too young to understand why daddy wasn’t coming home.

  “Yes, at least we know.” I nodded, closing my eyes
for a moment as well.

  “We knew this was a possibility, sweetie. He’s threatened this for a few months…”

  “I know, Mom, but I did everything, everything he asked. I made lists, Mom. In every room of the house! I didn’t miss anything he demanded. I love him, Mom. I don’t want this I don’t want this for my children Why, Mom? Why?” My voice broke at the end as I dissolved into tears as the sobs racked my body.

  My mom’s soft arms held me as I released my torrent of anguish.

  Why, God? I love you. I serve you. How could you let this happen to me, to my children?” The silent prayer went up before I could censor it, but I didn’t feel guilty about my plea. I was so lost. This wasn’t supposed to happen to me.

  “Honey, I’m so sorry.” My mom’s words were broken as she began to cry along with me.

  “Mom, I’m so sorry.” I began to apologize.

  “No. Honey, don’t even go there.” A fierce gleam in her eyes stopped my words. “Honey, you did everything possible to save this marriage. I watched you, counseled you, and prayed for you. You can’t do it all alone. Marriage is about two people, not one.”

  “I know, Mom, but I can’t help thinking I missed something.“ I spoke softly.

  “Can you think of anything you wish you would have done?”

  I paused for a moment, thinking over the past three years of my marriage to Jack. “No, not really.”

  “Were you faithful to the vows you spoke before God?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Did you honor and respect him, even when he didn’t deserve it?”

  “Yes. I did.” My mind flashed to a million memories of doing that very thing.

  “Did you want him to leave?”

  “No, but I prayed for him to change, and he knew I wanted us to get help. Maybe if I would have just—“

  “Just what? Let him demean you in front of his co-workers and family without speaking a word in private? No, that’s not obedience, that’s being a doormat.”

  “But that’s what he wanted.”

  “Just because someone wants something doesn’t make it right, love.”

  “I know, Mom, I just… why me, Mom? Why didn’t God save my marriage? I prayed, you prayed, Mom. Jack even prayed—“

  “Honey, prayer doesn’t equal obedience. Jack might have prayed, but that doesn’t mean he listened.”

  Her words sunk in deep and affirmed my own convictions. How was it possible that a man who knew right from wrong could so easily be blinded by selfish intentions and walk away from everything he knew to be right? A shudder went through my body as I thought about such an act.

  “So, what is the plan?” My mom leaned back in her chair and picked up her coffee. Her eyes searched mine as she blew gently over the steaming liquid.

  “Plan?” I questioned, confused.

  “Yes, baby. I guess what I’m asking is, are we talking separation or divorce?”

  The thought of divorce cinched my heart and stole my breath. I didn’t believe in divorce, it wasn’t an option. The only way I’d accept a divorce is in the case of abuse or adultery, and neither applied. But Jack didn’t necessarily share my convictions.

  “I don’t know, Mom. I don’t know.”

  Chapter Two

  A few weeks passed without any contact from Jack. As much as the unknown plagued me, it was also a time of rest from the constant expectations and fear that had become my world.

  “Javan?” I called as I searched the house. We were expected at my parents’ house for breakfast, and Javan was supposed to be finding his shoes.

  “Mom!”

  Javan tumbled out of his room and landed at my feet as I reached his door. A laugh escaped as he glanced up at me with a rascally grin. He was so cute. His bright red hair was enhanced by the paleness of his skin. The deep blue of his eyes was constantly changing with his mood but most often would sparkle with mischief; like now. The moment I bent down and helped him up, I heard Chase wail from the carrier I had left by the door.

  “Okay, buddy, let's go.”

  I grasped Javan’s hand as we headed to the SUV.

  My heart stopped, and I took a deep breath before I walked closer. Next to the SUV was Jack’s car and him leaning against it.

  “Daddy!” Javan yelled as he ran up to hug Jack's leg.

  “Hi.” I offered tentatively. The protective walls I had built up emotionally in the past few weeks of his absence were firmly in place, and I waited for him to speak.

  Jack’s hands were tucked in the pockets of his blue jeans, and he leaned back, regarding Chase and me with steely eyes. “I, uh, I need to ask you a question.”

  My heart pounded with hope; maybe he had changed his mind? I glanced down at Javan, who was acting like a tourniquet to Jack's leg, but so far Jack hadn't even said ‘hi’ to his son.

  “Yes?” My voice betrayed me with a slight wobble. I swallowed in an effort to eliminate the lump in my throat.

  “I um, well, I want the SUV.”

  The pounding of my heart suspended as I processed his words. What did he want with the car?

  “The SUV?” I repeated dumbly.

  “Yeah.” He tried to take a step forward and realized Javan was still attached to his leg. “Go to your mom, boy.” He ruffled Javan’s hair, but his eyes didn't hold any warmth. Javan's face crumpled with hurt, and he shook his head.

  “No!”

  “Go to your mom, now.” Jack bent down to look him in the eye. Javan studied him for a moment before he turned around and ran to me. The tears were flowing down his face by the time he reached me.

  I waited, not wanting to speak. I didn’t want to risk saying something I’d just regret later.

  “Yeah, I need the SUV. I don't want to be making such a huge payment on a car, so I'm trading it in. I've already got the papers. I just need your signature.”

  “Oh.” I was caught off guard, but I recovered after a moment. “What am I going to drive?” I asked with more confidence than I felt.

  “You can have your grandparents’ car back. I don't want it. I'll get something when I trade in the SUV.”

  I wanted to argue, complain about how we purchased the SUV so I'd have a reliable car when I drove with the kids. But I didn't open my mouth. Months, years of his accusing me of undermining him if I questioned him in the slightest had turned me into the insecure wreck that I was, and I no longer knew how to fight.

  “Okay,” I whispered, as I took the fob and key off my chain and walked over to him.

  “Here.” I maintained eye contact, waiting for him to show any sign of remorse, but all I saw was a calculating glint.

  “You've lost weight.” His voice was low and I immediately stiffened, wondering what he would say. “Good.” He nodded and took the key from my hand and turned away. He hopped into the SUV before I remembered the car seats.

  “Wait!”

  He stopped and rolled down the window.

  “The car seats, I need them.” I spoke breathlessly as my heart pounded from the emotional stress of it all.

  He glanced at Chase and Javan before moving his fingers in an 'okay hurry up and get them' motion.

  “Here, I need your signature anyway.”

  He handed me the papers to sign before I even opened the back door. The names and amounts sent a tremor through me. Would I see any money from this transaction? A part of me hoped, but the rest of me knew it wouldn’t happen. At least he had been sending me grocery money and paying the bills. I didn’t want to ask for more. Fear that he’d accuse me of being money hungry and losing any chance of him coming home stopped the words from forming as I signed my name.

  The moment I had freed the car seats from the SUV he was gone, not even waving goodbye to Javan, who was jumping up and down frantically waving both hands in the air.

  On the way to my parents’ house, Javan stared out the window. The sparkle in his eyes was now gone. Soon we arrived at my parents’ house, and as soon as Javan saw the stack of waffles an
d sausage on my parents’ kitchen table, a bit of the sparkle returned. Chase wiggled as I pulled him from the car carrier and handed him to my mom as I took off my jacket. The house was warm and smelled like home. The temptation to close my eyes and pretend I was sixteen again was overwhelming. Just for one moment I wanted to pretend that I didn't carry the weight of a failed marriage on my shoulders.

  “Hi, Pumpkin!” My dad called to me from behind the waffle iron in the kitchen. His eyes twinkled as he glanced at me, but I saw the strain of his smile.

  “Hi, Dad.” I managed a weak smile.

  “Honey, where’s your car? Did…” My mom’s words died as she saw my eyes fill with fresh tears. Oh when would I get to a point where I’d stop crying?

  “Daddy.” Javan replied after swallowing a mouthful of sausage.

  My parents’ shocked expressions gave me a moment to gather my thoughts.

  “Um, yeah, Jack stopped by this morning. He’s turning in the SUV. He didn’t want such a large payment.”

  “He can’t do that, not without your permission! Your name’s on the title!” The angry tone of my dad’s voice spoke all the words I had been afraid to speak earlier. One part of me knew I needed to stand up for myself, but the larger portion of my mind and heart had forgotten how to do it.

  “I know, Dad, I gave him permission. I signed the papers.”

  Javan’s eating and my parent’s breathing were the only sounds in the room. My mom and I jumped when the timer dinged, and my dad went to release the waffle that just finished.

  “Honey, that was your car—“my mom began.

  “I know, Mom, but it’s not worth it. You know if I say anything he’ll just jump to some conclusion, and I’ll lose him even more.” I stared at my shoes as I spoke, hating myself for the coward I had become.

  “I hate what he’s done to you.” The deep voice of my father carried such weight as I heard the bitterness behind the words.

  “Daddy, you shouldn’t hate—“