Chapter 3 - TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS FROM FREEDOM
Sadie stared at the phone.
Carl's name glowed on the screen.
For two years, that name had controlled her heartbeat.
She could be laughing with a coworker, folding laundry, or standing in line at a grocery store. The moment his number appeared, everything inside her tightened.
Ronan noticed.
“You don't have to answer.”
Sadie swallowed.
“He'll keep calling.”
“Then let him.”
“You don't understand what happens when I ignore him.”
Ronan looked at her carefully.
“Tell me.”
She closed her eyes.
“He gets worse.”
Silence.
Ronan nodded toward Marco.
“Have the restaurant preserve the call records and any messages. Don't contact him.”
Marco left.
Sadie stared at Ronan.
“You're not going to threaten him?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because that might make him more dangerous to you.”
She looked surprised.
Ronan continued.
“I know men like him.”
Sadie gave a bitter laugh.
“Everyone says that.”
“Then I'll prove I understand by not making your situation worse.”
***
The domestic violence advocate arrived shortly afterward.
Her name was Hannah Brooks.
She wore jeans, a navy sweater, and no jewelry except a wedding band.
She spoke to Sadie privately.
They discussed emergency accommodation, financial independence, documentation of injuries, and how to retrieve important belongings safely.
Sadie listened.
Then finally admitted the truth.
“I have eighteen hundred dollars hidden at home.”
Hannah nodded.
“Is that money accessible without putting you at risk?”
Sadie hesitated.
“Carl doesn't know about it.”
“Where is it?”
“Under a floorboard in my closet.”
Hannah considered.
“Would you be willing to discuss a police-assisted retrieval or another safe arrangement?”
Sadie's eyes filled.
“If I lose that money, I can't leave.”
“You may have more options than you think.”
Sadie shook her head.
“I need two thousand.”
“Why that amount?”
“Bus ticket. Deposit. Food. Enough to survive until I find work.”
Hannah leaned forward.
“You've been planning this carefully.”
“For eleven months.”
“And you're only two hundred dollars short?”
Sadie nodded.
Hannah's expression changed.
Not pity.
Respect.
“You've already done something incredibly difficult.”
Sadie looked down.
“I haven't left.”
“You're here now.”
***
Ronan didn't hear their conversation.
He waited in the hallway.
When Hannah emerged, she explained only what Sadie had authorized her to share.
Sadie wanted safe accommodation for the night.
She wanted help retrieving her belongings.
And she didn't want Carl contacted.
Ronan nodded.
“Understood.”
Hannah studied him.
“Mr. Hayes, she needs to remain in control of what happens next.”
“I agree.”
“She may change her mind.”
“That's her right.”
Hannah looked mildly surprised.
Then nodded.
***
Later, Sadie approached Ronan.
“I need to ask you something.”
“Go ahead.”
“Did you really tell Thomas to pay me for tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you worked.”
“I spilled expensive scotch.”
“Accidents happen.”
She almost smiled.
“Not usually around men like you.”
Ronan looked at her.
“What kind of man am I?”
Sadie hesitated.
“Dangerous.”
He accepted the answer.
“Yes.”
“Are the stories true?”
“Some.”
She studied him.
“Which ones?”
“The ones about the ports.”
“And the casinos?”
“Some of those too.”
Sadie looked down.
“Then why are you helping me?”
Ronan considered.
“Because being dangerous doesn't mean I have to be cruel.”
She stared at him.
The answer wasn't an excuse.
It wasn't a denial.
It was an admission that unsettled her more than a lie would have.
***
That night, Sadie moved into a confidential emergency apartment arranged through Hannah's organization.
Ronan did not learn the address.
He offered to pay for additional security.
Sadie declined.
He accepted her decision.
Before leaving, he handed her a card.
A simple white card.
No title.
No company logo.
Only a phone number.
“If you need to reach me.”
Sadie stared.
“Why would I?”
“I hope you won't need to.”
She placed the card in her pocket.
Then asked:
“Ronan?”
“Yes?”
“Why did you order the doors locked?”
He looked at her.
For the first time, something like regret crossed his face.
“Because I saw your fear and reacted badly.”
Sadie blinked.
“You're admitting that?”
“Yes.”
“You scared me.”
“I know.”
He held her gaze.
“I'm sorry.”
Sadie had heard apologies before.
Carl apologized after every beating.
But his apologies were always followed by excuses.
You made me angry.
You know how I get.
I wouldn't do it if you listened.
Ronan offered none.
He simply acknowledged what he had done.
Sadie looked away before he could see her eyes fill.
***
At 2:13 a.m., Ronan received a message from Marco.
Carl Jenkins had arrived at the Continental.
He was drunk.
Furious.
And demanding to know where Sadie had gone.
But Marco's next message changed everything.
Carl wasn't alone.
A man in a gray overcoat had arrived with him.
Ronan recognized the man immediately.
Vincent Rourke.
His most dangerous business rival.
And suddenly Sadie's abuse no longer looked like an isolated tragedy.
May you like
It looked like the beginning of a trap.
---
