Under the Mayhaw Tree by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

Author:Charlotte Boyett-Compo
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: contemporary romantic suspense, capturing happiness has an incredibly high price, family duty loyalty and longing, he will be with the woman he loves or die trying, if youre willing to pay the price true love can conquer all, living under a cloud of tragedy, not every promise is worth keeping, not every sacrifice is worthwhile, she lives at the mercy of her abusive husband, they will be tested to the depths of their souls
Publisher: Boroughs Publishing Group

Chapter Sixteen

He had no trouble finding the box she’d left beside the garage. He stood beside the house and listened to the drone of a sports program blaring from Bennett’s TV. The man was no doubt sitting in the big easy chair he’d seen positioned in front of the big flat screen job and swilling down a can of beer. He wondered where Allison was, what she was doing. The thought of her in there with Bennett made his blood boil. When he heard Bennett yell for her to bring him another beer, he had to dig his nails into his palms to keep from ringing the doorbell and busting the bastard in the mouth.

“Soon, baby,” he whispered. “Soon you’ll be free of him.”

He picked up the box and left.

* * * * *

It was raining the next morning—dark and dreary and bitterly cold for that time of year in Georgia—and the slap of the windshield wipers wore on Allison’s nerves. She felt as if she were sitting on a red ant bed and kept shifting in her seat, constantly looking into the rearview and side mirrors for headlights. So far, so good she thought. There wasn’t a car in sight behind her and she passed few on her twenty-one mile drive to Bainbridge. She had studied the map Drew had drawn and knew precisely where she needed to turn north to connect to the road to Albany. The paper he’d given her was tucked safely in her bra just in case.

Her mind had been on him all night long. She stood at the kitchen sink and pictured him stealthily executing his way to where she had left her box of treasures. The box contained a couple of photo albums, four framed pictures of her parents and one of her grandmother, a few knickknacks that meant the world to her. Finding the box gone this morning, she knew they were now in his care. The mere thought of him caring enough to give her a chance to collect things that reminded her of good childhood and young woman memories made him all the more dear to her. He was a good, decent man. A loving and kind man. A compassionate and thoughtful man. She knew her life with him would be wonderful.

If not free from looking over their shoulders.

“Once we are settled and in a country where we can safely do it, we’ll get divorces.”

She pictured them standing before a preacher or a justice of the peace. She could almost feel the cool circle of his love as he slipped it on her finger. She would place the ring on his finger with pride.

“With this ring I give you my heart,” she would say to him. “I pledge you my troth and I thee wed.”

Her gaze went to the ring on her left hand. It was an abomination, a brand, a sign of ownership and she would not live another minute with it on her hand. Braking the car, she pulled to the side of the road, put the car in park and brought her hand up.

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