“Brody.” I sniff. “Brody will help.” With a nod, I scroll through my missed calls, ignoring that my hands are shaking. God, I have so many nice texts from him asking how I’m doing. And I never responded because I was fucking the monster.

Monster.

I push on his number and bite my lower lip, looking at my door again, wondering if the man who is currently having sex with my mother and some random woman will ever walk through this doorway again.

“Raven?” Brody’s sweet voice is like cold, stinging water thrown in my face. It’s the last straw, really, and I start sobbing.

“Raven? What’s happened? Are you hurt?”

“Oh, Brody. Thank you for answering.” I try to say more, but I’m crying so hard he stops me.

“I’m calling the cops. I can’t even understand you.”

“Noooo, no cops. I just need you. Can you come and get me, please?” I say, looking up at the ceiling, hoping that will help get me under control. At this point, I’m not certain I’m using complete sentences. I do know the cops should not be involved. I’m trying to get away…not locked up.

“Okay. I’m leaving now. Be outside the gate in a half hour. Can you do that?” His voice is calm and soothing. Any other time, it probably would have aggravated me, but right now, I cling to it.

“Thank you.” I hang up and keep stuffing as much as I can in. For some reason, it feels like I have a lot more than what I arrived with. I should leave the expensive clothes and shoes. Where I’m going, I won’t need them, other than to maybe sell them since I may never come back, at least not for years. It’s hard to breathe. My nose is stuffy, and my eyes are so swollen and red, they feel like sandpaper.

Grabbing my bags, I ignore the music and other sounds coming from their room. If I focus on that, I’ll throw up, and I need to get out of this shithole.

Not seeing anyone, I throw my carry-on and handbag over my shoulder and pull my large Louis Vuitton bag down the long driveway.

“Raven?”

Shit, it’s Iain yelling at me. Just keep walking, just keep walking, plays in my head. Christ, I’m a mess.

“Hey, Raven. What are you doing?” He catches up with me. The floodlights come on.

“I’m leaving.” I keep walking until I get to the gate.

“I’m assuming Mr. Powers has no idea you’re going?”

“Look…” I heave my bags over to my other shoulder, trying hard not to start crying again. “Can you please open the gate? I have a friend coming for me.”

He simply stares at me.