Saved by the Devil (Devils Arms Book 3)

always told her that everything happened for a reason. She wasn’t sure what that reason was but maybe her life with Johnny was necessary for her to be strong enough to care for this baby on her own. Who fucking knew? Certainly not her.
With her hand still resting on the life she now knew was growing inside her she smiled a little, feeling lighter than she had only moments ago. It was an odd feeling. Nothing had changed, and yet this baby made her feel like she might be able to carve out a life for herself even if she was still on the run from a brutal man who wanted to own her.
Phoebe set the second test on the counter and washed her hands. She bent down and rooted around in her bag for a granola bar and a water, placing them in her sweatshirt pockets before putting her make-up away and zipping it up. She then hefted the bag onto her shoulder and picked up the test, smiling at the plastic applicator. She put the cap on the end she’d peed on before she wrapped it in the plastic wrap she’d removed it from. She then stuck it into the outside pouch of her duffle. It was gross but she wanted to keep the test as a reminder.
She walked to the door and unlocked it. She pushed open the bathroom door, noticing a woman who glared at her as she hurried into the bathroom after her. Phoebe was essentially living out of these little bathrooms, so she didn’t feel guilty. She headed to the benches near the bus terminal where she sat for a little over forty minutes eating the granola bar and drinking the water while watching people across the street going in and out of a popular local grocery store. Her mind focused on her new circumstances. She was going to be someone’s mother. It scared and excited her in equal measures.
On the one hand it was something she’d wanted for a long time. Before things had gotten bad with Johnny, she’d wanted at least four kids. She’d taken her birth control religiously after things had gone sour and that was one reason her pregnancy shocked her so much. She had only stopped taking her birth control in the past few days after she’d escaped him. However last month when she’d gotten a respiratory infection she remembered the nurses telling her that the antibiotics might mess with her birth control. She’d been so stressed that she hadn’t remembered. It didn’t help that Johnny had been pretty much raping her for several years. Not that he would see it that way, but she did. After the emotional connection between them became strained she hadn’t wanted to have sex, but she’d been too scared to refuse anytime he’d initiated it.
He’d given her little choice but to let him talk her into sex. She never knew if saying she wasn’t in the mood would mean receiving another beating. Asking him to wear a condom likely would have sparked the same reaction. Her head ached as she remembered those feelings of helplessness and she promised herself that her child would never feel those things. Already she was protective of the tiny life inside her.
She was still staring out the window and she watched an old man shuffle down the sidewalk with his walker, her mind consumed with her worries. She realized that she’d have to see a doctor to make sure everything was okay and to find out how far along she was. She had never had normal periods even while on birth control, likely due to the stress of her life with her husband.
Hearing the bus pull up, Phoebe turned to watch it park. She stood up, grabbing for her bag, glad to be on the move again. It was nerve racking waiting in the bus depots for the next bus. She couldn’t say why but she suspected it was because she still felt like at any moment Johnny would pop up. He’d likely kill her if he did find her again and she prayed that never happened. She got into the line that was forming near the door of the bus. People were exiting the bus and the few people who were getting on waited until they got off before they climbed on.
Phoebe carried her bag up the steps showing her ticket to the bus driver as she passed. Heading down the aisle she tucked her head down and tried not to make eye contact with the elderly woman in the front seat who stared at her bruises with a frown on her face. As she moved through the bus a girl in a Gryffindor shirt and Harry Potter glasses watched her curiously. Phoebe had been getting similar looks for years so it barely fazed her, even though it sent a spike of shame burning through her. She ignored it and found a seat towards the back. She had gotten used to ignoring the looks but it still bothered her.
Two men who sat near her started whispering. She heard one say something about her bruises and the other respond in a hushed tone she couldn’t make out. Phoebe pulled her head phones out of her pack and pressed them into her ears. Her hands trembled as she pressed play on her iPod, unwilling to answer any questions if someone got bold enough to ask. Her life was none of their business.
She was leaning back into the seat with Taylor Swift blaring in her ears when the bus finally pulled out of the station. The knot in her stomach eased a bit more as she watched more miles fly by, taking her away from the life she’d been trapped in. Every mile felt like a weight being lifted from her shoulders. The sun was rising as she finally began drifting off to sleep, feeling a sense of elation fill