Without A Trace
God! How she had come to loathe him since she had lost her job a month ago.
Lack of money was the only thing he constantly complained about and this evening had quickly gone from bad to darn-right dangerous. She had never seen him so drunk and physically abusive.
Lying on the floor, she wiped the blood from her nose and mouth with the corner of a dish cloth, watching him pace between her and the stove. She feared he would slam his construction boot into her belly; she winced and curled into a fetal position each time he drew nearer.
She carried their fir...