Chapter 2 - Plans in Motion

The woman was so nervous; one would think she was planning to kill the asshole or something. It's not as if she hadn't thought about it. She was only planning to drug him, even though the image of his demise made her hide her smile from him. She was going to crush the pills and put the meds in his whiskey, his coffee, and his spaghetti sauce. That would give her time to get the hell out of there. She would be in another state by the time he woke up. The thought excited her, and ...

Slap!

"What the hell have you got to smile about? Get your ass in gear and get me my food woman!"

The woman nodded her head while lowering her gaze submissively to the floor. It wouldn't do to look him in the eyes right now. She couldn't risk him seeing the growing defiance in her eyes or hear the fiery words ready to slip off her tongue. She had to soothe her savage beast enough to have him willingly leave her alone in the kitchen. She steeled her inner agitation while doing her best to appear docile. She couldn't risk another injury tonight.

"Dinner will be ready and, on the table, soon. Let me make you a whiskey sour, and then you can relax with the game while I finish up. I have pie and coffee for dessert. She hoped he didn't take exception with her telling him what to do, but the verbal cue to get a bit sloshed was enough. He lumbered over to his favorite La-Z-Boy and put his feet up, pulling over a TV tray to put behind him. TH e action was meant to once again 'put her in her place'. It meant she wasn't going to tell him where to eat. He was going to eat in front of the TV. Fine with her.

She busied herself in the kitchen. Two spoons were used to crush each of three pills individually. Her left wrist and hand protested, but she was able to adjust to do it one handed against the countertop. One dose was stirred into his whiskey. She made certain it was completely dissolved, then she promptly brought the drink out to him. She waited for him to take a sip, praying he didn't detect the taste. When he shooed her away, she knew she was going to be able to get through this tonight.

She returned to the kitchen. A plate piled high with spaghetti noodles sat beside the spoons. She added the next dose of crushed sleeping pills into the ladle of sauce she had set aside to be added to his plate. She couldn't risk being dosed as well. She had other things to worry about and her freedom was too valuable to screw up now. Plus, if he caught her, she was as good as dead. The nurse had said sleep typically came within half an hour of ingestion. Crushing them would no doubt speed the process slightly. She had to get this food into him in time to present him with dessert. She had to serve dessert before he got sleepy. There could be no room for his suspicions. The meds had to hit him hard.

She carried out the food and placed it beside him on the tray watching him eat for a moment until he allowed her to go get her own food. She was hardly hungry, but she knew it might be a while before she would have a chance to eat again.

She loaded up a much smaller portion for herself, bypassing the ladle of sauce she had used for him. She sat on the couch, her plate on the coffee table. When she finished her smaller portion, she returned to the kitchen. She hadn't seen any effects yet. Time for the final dose.

She poured a cup of his favored strong coffee, thankful that the bitterness of the brew would help mask any taste as the whiskey and sauce had. She stirred in his sugar, cream, and the crushed third pill before plating a piece of apple pie on a saucer. With mug and saucer in hand, she presented him dessert. She then sat and waited.

At first it was just a few yawns. She fought to take even breaths when her heart threatened to race from her chest, thinking of the consequences she would face if her plan didn't succeed. Then his ass began sinking further and further into the cushion. Not ten minutes after the first yawn, he was out like a light. She had to be sure though. She walked over to the man who had promised to love and keep her until death do them part. Fat chance. He would have rather killed her than kissed her in love, she thought. She tried to rouse him, but when that didn't work; she knew she had to get in gear.

She ran to their shared bedroom, focused on her task unwilling to let her fears deter her. She left all the clothes he required her to wear behind. The two shirts and one pair of skinny jeans she had hidden from him went into a small overnight bag. She packed the forbidden makeup she had squirreled away and chucked the sensible white Keds she wore into the trash can. She dug out her final forbidden purchase. It was his discovery of this item that had landed her in the ER tonight. The brown ankle boots were sturdy and reminded her of her youth. She was finally back in something that felt like it fit with who she was. For ten years she had been living her life in a way that she did not recognize as her, but rather someone he wanted her to be, her own sense of self-worth crushed beneath his heel.

She grabbed her bag, her purse, and the envelope of cash. Tonight, was her opportunity. Tonight, she regained her freedom.