CHAPTER 8
Breaking Free
Elena
My heart felt like it was being clawed out as I stared at Lily in Damien's arms, she was still asleep and her face was pressed into Damien.
A few million questions filled my mind but no answers came to mind; 'what was Damien doing in Lily's room? Had Lily woken up? Did this have something to do with earlier?'
"She was scared," Damien suddenly spoke, his eyes barely open. "She was scared like—" Damien paused, his head drooping again.
He looked drunk I thought, I took a deep breath and silently began to inch close. I'd barely moved two steps when his head whipped up, holding me in place.
"It's not the same anymore," Damien mumbled the words, I wasn't entirely sure what he was referring to.
"Damien," I whispered, "let me have Lily, please." A lump formed in my throat, "She needs to sleep."
"What do you know about it?" Damien snapped, his voice raising a little. His hands weren't stable as he pointed at me.
"I…" I trailed off, at a loss for words. My head hurt badly as I tried to place any connection between his words and what was happening here.
"Damien," I hardened my gaze as I stared at him. "I'm going to take Lily to bed, now." Without waiting for an answer I straightened up and walked over briskly towards him.
3 meters… 2 mete…. 1 meters…. A ball of tension was wound tight in my belly as I walked towards him, to my relief Damien didn't make any sudden moves.
In my panic I took Lily out of his arms quickly, Damien didn't make any sudden moves and he let me take her.
I tucked Lily under her blanket and adjusted her pillow, but something caught my attention—red marks etched across the soft skin of her hand. My breath hitched as I carefully lifted her hand for a closer look. The streaks were faint but unmistakable.
My mind raced. Did Damien do this? The thought alone made me feel sick.
The weight of the day's events pressed heavily on me, and I couldn't stop the flood of emotions—anger, worry, fear—all at once.
Lily stirred slightly in her sleep, her small hand falling limp from mine.
"Sssh," I cooed softly and I kissed her forehead, whispering a soft, "I'm sorry," as I tucked her hands together.
I wasn't entirely sure of what had happened. But Damien definitely had something to do with it I thought, my eyes narrowing dangerously.
I was going back. I locked her door as quietly as I could, my heart pounding as I walked back down the hallway, fury bubbling inside me.
Damien.
How could he? I thought, my hands clenched unconsciously at my sides.
When I reached Lily's room again, it was empty. Where is he? I wondered, staring around the room.
My ears pricked as I heard some faint footsteps, I turned and followed the sounds and they guided me back toward the main hallway.
And then I saw him. Damien was slumped halfway to his room, lying unceremoniously on the cold floor. The sight startled me.
"Damien?" I called softly, cautiously stepping closer. I tapped on his shoulder gently. He didn't respond.
He must've fallen unconscious as he tried to get back to his room I thought, staring at him.
I should have left him there. He deserved it after everything he'd put me through. But something about the way he looked.
He looked…fragile wasn't the word but close enough.
I couldn't just leave him there I thought, feeling conflicted with my conscience.
I glanced at him again and, finally, I relented. With great effort, I managed to drag him into his room and onto the bed.
My shoulder blades were burning from the effort and my hands trembled as I removed his shoes and adjusted the pillows beneath his head.
His phone buzzed suddenly, the sound piercinging the silence.
I hesitated, glancing at the screen. A single icon—a big heart—flashed with the incoming call.
Who was it? My curiosity flared, but I stopped myself from picking it up. I didn't care, I reminded myself, glancing away. Not anymore.
I stepped back, leaving him sprawled out and snoring faintly. Whatever secrets that phone held weren't mine to uncover. I had bigger things to worry about.
Back in my room, I opened my suitcase and began to pack.
I'd made up my mind. We were leaving, for good.
I wasn't going to wait for Damien's next outburst. We were leaving tonight.
The thought of leaving sent a rush into me and my breaths shortened, but I strengthened my resolve. I'd made up my mind, and there was no going back.
I pushed a hand into the bag I'd used earlier, reaching to take out my credit card when my hand brushed over something. I pulled out the package that the waiter had given me earlier from Mr. Mcgregor.
"This…" I froze, staring at it. I'd completely forgotten about it in the chaos of the day.
I tore the package open to find stacks of crisp bills neatly arranged, along with a handwritten note.
*"Elena,
I hope this helps. I'm sorry for the scene earlier—I'm a sucker at gifting. I hope you don't take offense.
McGregor"*
The sight of the money felt like a tranquilizer as all my worries washed away. Relief and gratitude surged through me. This money was a lifeline, arriving at the exact moment I needed it most.
Stuffing the cash into my bag, I zipped up the suitcase and stood by the window, gazing out at the quiet estate.
The weight on my chest lifted slightly as I exhaled. It wasn't much, but it was enough to get us away.
If Father knew what I had planned… I closed my eyes, I could already imagine the fit he'd throw.
I glanced at the clock, the time read a few minutes past midnight. It was time to go.
The night was eerily silent as I carried Lily to the car, a worried expression plastered on my face.
"What's the matter, ma'am?" The driver stared at me with a puzzled expression.
"Lily's sick," I muttered, taking care not to make a scene. "We need to get her to the hospital, now." I opened the door and settled Lily into the backseat, her small frame curling into the seat.
"What about—" the driver began but I cut him off.
"There's no time and I didn't want to disturb him," I pulled a long face and glared at the driver. The driver didn't say a word, he turned the car on, putting the car in drive.
As we drove off into the night, I glanced back at the looming mansion where I'd spent the last couple of months.
I'd left the title of Mrs Landon there, for whoever Damien thought befitting.
As for me? I'd left that identity the moment I stepped through the door.
I was done.