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    Without A Voice
    Without A Voice
    Without A Voice
    Ebook131 pages1 hour

    Without A Voice

    By Lauren Ritz

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    About this ebook

    Don’t put yourself on the grid. No credit cards, new name, new city. Few friends, no family. Connections of any kind are a risk.

    Five years ago Mae left Justin in Orlando. Never again will she cower, wondering who he'll hurt next. She's done letting him punish her.

    Now she has real friends, people she cares about, a life worth living. After years of relative peace she's gotten complacent, relaxed her guard. Somehow, he's found her.

    There’s nowhere you can go.

    Mae can no longer cling to her safe obscurity if she's going to survive.

    Once she could have run and been certain Justin would leave those she loved alone. But he's changed. Justin is the whisper in the dark, a shadow on the street, the phantom no one sees.

    You are mine. I will never stop.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLauren Ritz
    Release dateMar 25, 2013
    ISBN9781301536474
    Without A Voice
    Author

    Lauren Ritz

    Lauren Ritz was born in Utah and continues to reside there, somewhat to the chagrin of those who know her well. She is commonly known as a walking insane asylum (just ask her) and a compulsive gardener.She began writing at the age of six with a “journal entry” about aliens flying through her bedroom window and landing on her wall. She tried to start earlier, but was handicapped by the fact that she couldn't draw well enough.She lives in Utah with bats in her attic, a cat named Darth Vader and too many books to count. She is a wannabe herbalist, but the herbs stay outside for the most part. Most of her plants are domesticated varieties and housebroken.No, she does not talk to the plants, but they talk to her. Luckily she's hard of listening.Writing is her love and her lifelong obsession, taking up the majority of her time when she isn't involved in other less compelling interests.

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      Book preview

      Without A Voice - Lauren Ritz

      Without A Voice

      By Lauren Ritz

      Smashwords Edition

      Copyright 2013 Lauren Ritz

      All Rights Reserved

      Intended audience: Adult

      Profanity: None

      Sexual content: None

      Violence: Mild (no blood), abuse, stalking

      Religion: Religious topics discussed

      Table of Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Author Notes

      Chapter One

      Mae's breath frosted in the air before she opened the apartment door, and frosted in the air after she stepped through. She made sure all the locks were secure and turned. There was a draft coming from somewhere. She left the light off as she padded through the short hall and stared blankly at the open balcony door.

      The porch already wore a white blanket of snow, and some of it had drifted in to rest on the rug. The muscles around her chest tightened.

      She wanted to leap across the room and slam the door shut, but she remained where she was. The old habits, habits she'd allowed to fade as she started to think this place was safe, resurfaced.

      The balcony connected with every other balcony along this side of the building, with a fire escape on either end. The privacy of the residents was preserved by flimsy railings between each apartment. It would be simple for someone to walk along, testing balcony doors. It had happened before.

      Her eyes darted to the left to the closed bedroom door and to the right into the tiny kitchenette. The light on the microwave blinked at her complacently.

      She could feel her heartbeat now, quicker and stronger than it should be. The safest exit was behind her, out the front door and down the stairs to the apartment manager's office. It would mean unlocking the door; two deadbolts, a chain and a bar—lots of noise, and time. She should have remembered that locking evil out was useless if it was already inside.

      The quickest escape would be that open door onto the balcony.

      She glanced around again. If it was a robbery, they were doomed to disappointment. The only things she had of value were a ten year old laptop computer in her bag and one of her rings, which she wasn't about to relinquish unless it was cut off her finger.

      Whoever had opened the door didn't appear to have broken anything, which was a relief in an odd way. It was all garage sale or thrift store furniture, but she'd chosen carefully and refurbished a lot so it looked good. Oak was her wood of choice, mixed in with a few pieces of wrought iron that she'd painted a dark green.

      Two of her own paintings graced the walls, in refurbished matching frames. While someone who had no interest in or knowledge of art might have grabbed them, they really weren't good enough to sell.

      The odds were getting greater that the perpetrator was still in this apartment.

      Best just to retreat, slow and easy, and unlock as quietly as possible.

      She started to move toward the hall and heard a familiar voice from the kitchen. Stay where you are, Mina.

      Mae made her next step back into a shocked retreat, staring as he flipped the switch and the kitchen light came on. She was parallel with the hall now, but if she tried to move he would move faster, and she had no doubt that he was armed.

      He was front-lit, the glare of the overhead spot-lighting him as if he was on a stage. Mina. How long had it been since she'd heard that name?

      Justin. Mae tried to keep her voice from shaking, keep him from hearing the loathing, and the fear.

      You remember. He took a step forward and she took a step back, so that she was lined up with a straight shot to the open balcony door. He would have to go either over, through, or around her furniture if he tried to chase. Mina.

      She shivered at the amusement in his voice. What do you want?

      I know what you want. You want to get away, call the police down on me. It's not going to work that way this time, sweetheart. His eyes flicked to the open door. Which way will you go? Same distance to either fire escape, and you're not a broken field runner, honey.

      While you've had lots of practice. She wasn't certain whether she wanted him angry or was trying to hurt him.

      His mouth thinned. Yeah. Most of it the night you tossed me to the wolves.

      I didn't toss you anywhere. She layered the words with exhaustion, and didn't have to push to put it there. You jumped into their arms all on your own.

      He glanced around the tiny apartment, his mouth twisted with contempt. That's why you got witness protection, huh? Because you didn't do anything? Looks like you've come down in the world, Mina.

      Mae stared at him. Witness protection?

      You didn't think I'd figure it out? New town, new name…

      You're a fool. I buried myself because I wanted out. New town, new career. Yes, new name. She forced herself not to shiver. The wind blew a drift of snow further into the room, and the air in the apartment was getting colder.

      Justin took a step closer, out of the light. Perhaps to study her, but it left him back-lit, a silhouette in the darkened room. Mae shifted, tensing to dart past him toward the open door, and saw him shift in response.

      There's nowhere you can go.

      Mae watched him, eyes half shut. You think I wouldn't take a three story plunge to get away from you?

      He seemed to swell in reaction. Under that exterior it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Mae watched and waited.

      You move across the continent. What's three stories? He said it carelessly, but Mae could feel him straining for control. Control over himself or control over her was immaterial at the moment.

      Control over himself had always been the hard sell. He used other people without conscious thought, controlled them systematically to keep himself safe, his little world secure. Ironically, he was usually the one who broke control and brought his world tumbling down.

      Not that he would see it, even if someone had the brass to point it out.

      Walk away, Justin. In the darkness she couldn't see his reaction to this. If you walk away, I promise I won't call the police about the break-in.

      He laughed harshly, a sound that would be audible through the thin walls. Would the neighbors notice? It was a hope, in any case. What are your promises worth?

      She held very still. He was on the line, where he could either give in to the anger or decide humor served his purposes better. I've never lied to you, Justin. I won't start now.

      His voice rose, getting closer to the edge. You never lied to me? What do you call this? He waved an arm wildly, meaning, she supposed, the apartment and the new city.

      I never lied to you. She kept her voice calm, hoping somehow to bring him down from the dangerous anger. I never told you I was leaving, and you never asked.

      It had never occurred to him as a possibility. He needed her, therefore she would be there. It was a kind of faith. It must have rocked his world to come back from the well-deserved police interviews to find her gone. She had taken very little, and run as hard and as far as her money would take her.

      However long they'd held him, it had been sufficient.

      I didn't expect that you'd still be looking for me, she said, and walked past him into the tiny kitchen. There was barely room for both of them in there, and he made no effort to follow her.

      You're mine, he grated. I'll never stop.

      With her back to him Mae stared into the empty refrigerator. Shut the door, will you? How had he gotten in? She hadn't left the door unlocked.

      He didn't move, and Mae turned, watching him. The defiance made her shiver inside, but she would not let the fear win. I refuse to freeze. If you won't allow me near the door, then you shut it. I should have moved when I could afford it. She hadn't, though, and no true guarantee that he wouldn't have found her anywhere she went.

      He moved across the room, muttering something about nagging. In a very real way, that was more frightening than any threat he could have made. It meant that things were back to normal between them—his normal.

      It would be different, this time. Now that he was aware that she would run, he wouldn't take a chance on it happening again. If he could, he would arrange things so that she had no choice but to stay with him.

      Mae looked around at her little place, missing it already. He would want to move into something larger at the first opportunity, fill it with expensive junk as if his worth was measured by his possessions.

      She grinned sourly at the thought, and pulled out a carton of chow mien that had long since gone to seed. She put that on the counter. Lettuce for a salad, slightly wilted.

      He reached past her from behind and plucked the greens out of her hand. No trying to poison me. As Mae turned, he threw the lettuce in the garbage. She stiffened, but didn't object. She kept her voice calm, with an effort. Then that's what you get.

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