Saved by the Devil (Devils Arms Book 3)

she wasn’t going to let it rule her. She would create a life for herself and she’d live every day to the fullest. No more holding her breath and waiting for Johnny to rage. No more desperate attempts to make sure everything was absolutely perfect.
She brushed her hair back realizing she was tired. Too bad she didn’t have time to get a hotel room before she climbed on the next bus. She turned on the water, letting it heat before sloshing it over her face. It felt good and she closed her eyes for a moment before opening them. They drifted to the counter and she stared at the plastic indicator she’d just peed on. The box said five minutes and she’d know. It seemed unrealistic to hope her week-long morning sickness wasn’t an indication that she was pregnant, but she still prayed she wasn’t. She hadn’t prepared for that in her escape plan. Not that anyone could really prepare for a pregnancy.
Her hands were white as she grabbed her bag and pulled out her concealer and her foundation, setting them on the counter beside the test. She needed a distraction and trying to cover the bruises would help keep her from panicking over this new change.
She’d been running for five days and she had put enough miles between herself and her past that she felt a little safer. Her plan had worked flawlessly. She’d left early in the morning after Johnny had headed into work. She’d met Kendra—her friend from the shelter—to get the rental car. Kendra had taken the keys to her car and driven it back to her place so Johnny wouldn’t immediately associate her leaving with the women’s shelter. Worried about her friend’s safety, Phoebe had waited until Kendra had returned to the shelter before she’d left. She had felt like she’d held her breath the whole time she’d waited for her to return.
Kendra was surprised she was waiting. Phoebe had told her that she’d done so much to help her that she hadn’t wanted to leave without thanking her. That wasn’t completely a lie. She had wanted to thank her friend, but she’d mostly wanted to be sure Johnny hadn’t come home early and hurt Kendra. After saying her goodbyes, she’d gathered her money from her work locker and she’d driven away from the life she’d been trapped in.
Even with the feeling of freedom leaving had made her feel, Phoebe hadn’t felt calm until after she’d boarded the second Greyhound bus. Her thoughts still on the early days of her escape, she began smearing the concealer over one of the bruises on her neck. She knew it wouldn’t work well but she still tried to cover them. She frowned and covered the concealer with foundation. It didn’t hide the green completely, but it would at least hide it a little bit. Maybe no one would notice that she had weird green splotches on her neck. She almost snorted at the thought. They’d notice but it couldn’t be helped.
She glanced down at the pregnancy test and her mind immediately blanked. She stared at the plastic test strip with shock roaring through her because it had two little pink lines. Her heart sped up and her breathing became erratic as she gripped the counter until her knuckles were white. Phoebe picked up the test hoping she’d read it wrong, but the two little lines stayed put. Maybe she should take the other test in the box to be sure? With that thought in mind she tossed the first test into the trash and quickly shuffled over to the stall and peed on the second stick. Her heart pounded in her ears as she waited on it to change. It took about three minutes for the test to show two pink lines, confirming the first test wasn’t a fluke or a false reading.
Shit, now what was she going to do?
Babies were expensive, but even as she considered her options she realized that she couldn’t bear the thought of an abortion. No, she’d have this baby, planned or not. Starting over might be a little harder than she’d originally planned but sometimes you didn’t get to plan your life. She knew that better than anyone. When she’d graduated at the top of her class in high school she’d planned to be a nurse or maybe an art teacher. That hadn’t happened because two years later she’d met Johnny. He’d seemed so charming, so perfect. Her friends had all thought he was dreamy, and she’d been proud to date him.
At first, she hadn’t noticed the way he was starting to slowly separate her from her family and friends. How he’d act like he couldn’t stand to be away from her long enough for her to go hang out with the girls or how he’d convince her to go see her mother another day. It was a game to him, and he’d played it well. The counselor at the women’s shelter had told her he fit the typical profile for an abuser. Apparently more than one abusive person was extra charming. They typically convinced everyone, including the victim, that they were great people before they systematically destroyed the confidence of said victim, thereby making it nearly impossible for their intended target to have the strength to escape them.
Phoebe was one of the few who’d managed to escape and she was damned determined to never be under another man’s thumb or in his power as long as she lived. She refused to be used or made into a victim ever again. She laid her hand on her belly, closing her eyes as she silently promised the tiny life inside her that she’d never let anyone hurt him or her. Phoebe was glad she hadn’t known about the baby when she’d been with Johnny. She didn’t know if she would have had the courage to run if she’d known. Her mother had