The Homeless Billionaire

I HAVE TO LEAVE!

JASAMINA.

I lay there on the cold, hard floor, staring up at the ceiling as tears streamed down my face. My body felt like it was shutting down as if every inch of me had been battered and bruised. Ludale's blows had been relentless, each one more brutal than the last. The pain was excruciating, and I couldn't help but let out painful moans as I struggled to breathe. The weight of his abuse was crushing me, and I felt like I was suffocating.

In the midst of my agony, I knew I couldn't stay there any longer. I had to escape. Again.

I gave up on running away, months ago, when Dale had Ray-his twisted bodyguard raped me while he whipped me with his belt for hours. I've been through so much on Dale's hand but that one broke me because two of his friends watched my humiliation, laughing and drinking to it. And, I was six months pregnant. I've run away countless times, but Dale is a very powerful man, with every connection a person could have. He always found me, always.

So, I gave up.

But today, for the first time in months, I entertained those thoughts again, because of the cries from a tiny voice I heard coming out of the living room. I have to protect my son from this life, from that monster.

I heard the sound of the door opening and closing, signaling that Ludale had left the mansion. This was my chance. I forced myself to move, each movement sending sharp bolts of pain through my body. I had to get to Jaimie, who was crying in the living room. I dragged myself across the floor, my limbs heavy and uncooperative. It felt like I was crawling through quicksand, every inch of progress a monumental effort.

When I finally reached Jaimie, I scooped him up into my arms, holding him close as he cried against my chest. The reality of my situation hit me like a ton of bricks. I was a mother, and I had to protect my child from the monster I had married.

With Jaimie in one arm, I limped towards my bedroom, tears streaming down my face, sobs racking my throat. I knew I had to act fast, and I quickly began to pack a bag with the essentials we would need. Diapers, bottles, formula, Jaimie's blanket, a few clothes, and whatever cash I had on hand. My heart was pounding as I threw the bag over my shoulder and hobbled out of the house, carrying Jaimie and the bag. I had to bypass his security guards and the ones at the gate simply paid me no attention because the cards they were playing were simply more important than whatever nuisance I'd come out to create again. They knew it was only a matter of time before I was brought back again, and they could enjoy some entertainment as always.

However, unlike those other times, I have a driving force now. It was no longer about but also about the small bundle in my arms. This time around, I'm never getting caught, I vowed.

The outside world was a blur as I stumbled down the street, my vision clouded by tears and pain. I didn't know where we were going. I didn't have a destination or a plan, but all that mattered was that we were away from Ludale. I was filled with a sense of desperation and fear.

I lay there on the floor, feeling as though my body was slowly shutting down. Every inch of me ached with pain, and I couldn't help but let out painful moans as I struggled to breathe.

Two days later, I sat in the abandoned tent that had become our temporary home, tears streaming down my face as Jaimie's cries filled the air. I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, and I didn't know how much longer I could go on. We were in a neighborhood in Crown Heights, a place I had never heard of before, but it didn't matter as long as we were far away from Ludale.

As usual, the news of our escape had spread, and everyone was looking for us. I'd picked up an article that read; The wife of the COO of PetroLion Inc., Jasamina McCully, has gone missing along with her infant son, Jaimie. The couple had been living in a mansion in the city, but Jasamina reportedly fled the residence again, and this time around, with her son in tow.

According to sources close to the family, Jasmina had been experiencing mental health issues and was unable to properly care for her child. The Chief Operating Officer of one of the largest oil companies in the United States, popularly known as Billionaire Baron, is devastated by his wife's departure and has expressed his concern for the safety of his son and has offered a reward of $3 million for any information leading to their whereabouts, and $4 million for anyone who can bring them back safely.

The police are currently investigating the matter and are urging anyone with information to come forward. They are also reminding the public that Jasamina may be in a vulnerable state and may require assistance.

I held my crying baby, feeling overwhelmed. I had to feed him, but the thought of it was unbearable. My body ached with pain and my breast barely produced milk. I knew that if I didn't find a way to feed him soon, he would starve.

With tears in my eyes, I bared my breast and tried to feed him again. My baby eagerly laced his mouth and suckled, the pain was too much for me but I bit down on my lips and held on. However, after a few seconds, he let go and began crying louder. A desperate sob left my lips. I bundled him up and left the tent, feeling dizzy and weak. I had to find food for him, and for me.

"Please... give me some... money..." I begged the next woman who crossed the street, my voice cracking with desperation. I had been begging for over an hour now but to no avail. Everyone ignored me, just like the others before them. No one wanted to help me and a lot of them have cursed me out. The only option I had left was those men drinking across the street.

I knew I needed to get money, but the thought of going to where men were drinking made me uneasy. I knew what it could mean. But I was getting desperate, and I had no choice.

Just as I was about to drag my feet forward, a strong arm caught hold of my coat. Frightened, I looked up to see the man who had grabbed me.

He was big, slouched to one side, with dirty hair and clothes. A mustache covered half of his face, and he too was covered in a coat, making it difficult to see his features clearly. But one thing was for sure, he was a drunk.

"Take this..." The drunk said in a hoarse, gravelly voice as if it had been a long time since he had spoken. He held out a handful of dollar notes to me.

I didn't question why this dirty, drunken stranger would help me. I snatched the money from his hand, tears filling my eyes with gratitude. "Thank you. Thank you so much!"

He didn't say anything in response, instead, he shuffled past me, his staggering steps loud on the pavement. He tilted his head back and took a swig from a bottle of alcohol before continuing on his way.

Jaimie wiggled under my clothes, drawing my attention away from the kind drunk. I tightened my arm around my baby, shaking my head to shake off the dizziness I was feeling. I turned and walked away, pulling my coat closer to my face to cover half of my face and hide my identity.

I bought baby formula and a bottle from the nearest store, ignoring the curious glances of the clerks, and made my way out.

Hours later, I had fed Jaimie and myself. I couldn't afford to stay in one place for too long, so I continued on my journey.

Three days later, I admitted to myself that I had no idea where I was. I only had a few dollars left from the money an older woman had given me the night before. I had lost track of how many buses and trains I had taken, and how many rides I had hitchhiked.

I longed for a nice bath and to be able to breathe without pain. My whole body felt like one big bruise. Jaimie was sleeping in my arms as I walked without a destination. I only slept wherever I found myself.

My legs were aching badly now and I was trembling so much that I feared my legs would give out. I was on the road and I couldn't afford to pass out here because someone might take my child.

I had to keep walking. I had to.

TANNER

I stumbled down the dimly lit street, the weight of the whiskey bottle in my hand providing a sense of comfort. My mind was foggy, the effects of the alcohol clouding my judgment. The last thing I needed was to start thinking. That's why I needed another beer.

As I raised the bottle to my lips, my gaze was drawn to a figure on the opposite side of the road. The familiar coat caught my attention, and as my eyes adjusted to the poor lighting, I recognized the girl with the baby. The same girl I had seen in...I have no idea where. I lose track of time and my environment, and I simply don't care.

She stood out like a sore thumb, her white face etched with fear, and her hands tightly clutching the bundle of her coat. Others might not see it but I did, and I knew it was a baby. My mind raced with questions. Was she homeless? Was she on the run? Why would someone so young and with such a small child be begging on the street?

But she was not my problem. My priorities were clear. Drink more beer and get drunk. Stay sane long enough to buy a new bottle to replace the empty one in my hand.

I took a step forward, intending to walk past her, but as I took a swig of my whiskey, I heard a loud thud on the ground. I turned to see the girl had collapsed, her body now sprawled on the pavement. Even in her fall, she still held her baby protectively to her belly. She had passed out.