Free New Title 7 by Emma Clark

discovering my pregnancy, Brandon forgot to lock the basement door. He'd forgotten the day before too. His complacency became his enemy—and perhaps my best friend.
    It was nighttime. Midnight. My head throbbed with a moderate headache. Brandon spooned me as we lay in bed, his arm over my waist. He made me feel safe, my lover who was tough, angry and used to terrify me.
    Safe or not, the choice had been made and it was time to go—before I changed my mind. Entering the outside world filled me with trepidation, but fears of birthing a child in this basement were far greater.
    So how would I squirm out of his arms without waking him?
    He softly snored while I observed the gaping door.
    His long fingers splayed over one of my breasts and juicy veins zig-zagged his forearm. I also had a clear view of the scythe tattoo. Brandon's large bicep obscured my insignificant arm and his muscular, tattooed arm appeared frightening in the dark. All he had to do was lift his bicep to my neck and he could break it with one swift lurch. I almost heard the crunching and snapping of my spine.
    Would he really do something so horrible? Paralyzed, I couldn't move or free myself from his needy embrace.
    Cautiously, quietly I wriggled. Brandon released me and flipped to his opposite side.
    I had a clear shot to the doorway but waited until he resumed snoring.
    Commanding myself to act, I shifted and my toes made contact with the carpet. He emitted a drawn-out moan and scared the living shit out of me.
    I crept through the doorway, wandered to the basement steps and continued upstairs. Then I stole into the corridor like a fugitive evading prison.
    Comfortable enough to quicken my pace, I approached a living area where ghostly silhouettes lurked. A dim kitchen light illuminated a section of carpet while shadows darkened all corners.
    Before me stood the front door with its stained glass window. Praying my fiercely thumping heart wouldn't give, I unlatched the deadbolt and eased open the door. A sidewalk led to the street ahead.
    I held my breath.
    The curved street vanished behind a row of similar houses. Stiff grass stung my feet as I headed to the right. Shrouded by bushy shrubs, the nearest house nestled many yards away, taunting me.
    No matter how quickly I walked, I couldn't get closer.
    Rustling grass whispered from behind. I froze.
    Oh Jesus Jesus. Please don't be him. Please, please please please. Oh god let it be something else. I stared at the neighboring house, hoping, praying.
    And then—strong arms encircled my waist, jerked me to the ground. Everything occurred at break-neck speed.
    Pleas flew from my mouth, words involuntarily spewing as he gathered my hair and dragged me. I kicked as my spine scraped the rigid, rocky earth. Trimmed lawns whizzed by during my torturous travel to Brandon's doorstep. Suburban landscape spun, green and cyan shades bleeding together and scorching pain as hair ripped from my scalp.
    My ass struck the cement step while Brandon got in my face. I had to think fast .
    "No, no. Please, I love you, Brandon. I love you, I swear I do. I swear I don't wanna leave. I swear, I swear, I swear. Please don't hurt me. I didn't mean it."
    "Really? Really Mia ?" He panted, eyes feverish. He tugged my hair and I yelped. "You just made the biggest fucking mistake. Do you understand that? Huh? Do you ?" He yanked again. My scalp felt like it was on fire.
    "I wanted to leave because of the baby. I fucking did it because of the baby!"
    " Bullshit ." He seized, lifted and carried me into the house. My head bounced.
    "I did it for the baby. I did it for—"
    "Shut up, Mia."
    "Oh, god. My head. My hair. It hurts." Everything hurts . White walls zoomed past. My body continually bounced as he rushed onward.
    "I said shut up. You'll be alright." Squashed within his arms, I clutched his shoulders as he delivered me to the basement depths.
    Vomit paid my throat an unwelcome visit.
    "Oh my god. I'm gonna puke, Brandon."
    "No you're