Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 107(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 107(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
Realizing he can’t force Damien, he shrugs and goes to his colleagues who are attending to Father’s guys.
Something buzzes in Damien’s pocket and he slips his hand from me to take the call. He nods, eyes briefly flaring with anger. When he drops the call, he holds my hand again and purses his lips, his eyebrows drawn together. “The men found the compound. No one resisted so they’re bringing in medics and social workers to help the women and young girls. They have someone named Elise, and she’s asking for you.”
Tears spring to my eyes, a million emotions converging within me—relief, happiness, gratitude, freedom. Most of all, freedom. My vision blurs, and I brush away the wetness on my cheeks. I can breathe again.
The world has shifted, and everything will be different now. Everything will be alright. We can all start healing. I can start healing.
I smile through the tears as Damien stands up and pulls me against his chest.
A year later, I can say I’m more than thriving.
Father and his accomplices are serving time. Everyone was rescued at the compound, including Elise, who I still see at least once a month. She lives in a different state, but we’re always talking on the phone a few times per week. She’s on her way to college, and I couldn’t be more proud of her.
Some of the women testified against Father, but I didn’t bother communicating with them. I don’t hate them but I don’t want to have anything to do with them. They all looked the other way when girls were taken and brought to the clinics. Sure, they didn’t have much choice, but Elise did more for us than all the women combined.
As for me, I still go to a therapist. Days after Father’s arrest, I kept having nightmares, and I woke up bathing in my own sweat and shaking so hard that Damien would just hold me until I calmed down.
Good thing that’s behind me.
My sessions used to be once a week, but we’ve made so much progress, I usually just go once a month. Part of the reason is Damien. He makes me feel so safe that I no longer live in daily fear of being found and brought back to the compound. I know he won’t let anything happen to me, and that simple realization is enough to keep me at ease.
He rented a place big enough for us, and while I love working at the local florist shop, I have plans to go back to school. Still, I’m good at what I do. I mean, this was my favorite task at the compound too, picking the right flowers and arranging them beautifully. It’s therapeutic and makes me happy. And seeing customer’s faces light up when they see my arrangement? Priceless.
Damien also oriented me to the current technology. The internet still amazes me. Searching and finding things in seconds? Talking to someone from any corner of the globe on video? Mind-blowing. At one point, it felt like I just came from a different decade, and in a way, I kind of did. We were so isolated that the only world we knew was inside the walls.
My phone buzzes in my black apron. It’s Damien.
I’ll pick you up at 7, baby. Wear that beautiful blue dress.
He just closed a high-profile case. It was all over the news, and in one press conference, his Chief was beaming behind him, clearly proud. I’m so proud of Damien too and falling more and more in love with him every day. How can I not? He’s all I ever wanted and more.
Five minutes before 7 PM, his car stops just in front of our place. Per his request, I’m wearing my favorite knee-length midnight blue dress made from satin. With its sweetheart neckline and thin spaghetti straps, it shows off just enough skin.
The skirt flares from the ribbon belt, falling in soft pleats and folds. It’s pretty chilly, but I don’t want to cover the low-scoop back, deciding I’m gonna be stylishly cold tonight. It’s stupid, I know. But Damien’s been so busy for weeks that I want him to froth at the mouth while he looks at me.
And boy, he does.
He steps out and looks at me over the roof, his hot eyes running down the length of my body, flashing wickedly and stopping just above my cleavage. His face darkens as he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth.
Damien doesn’t say anything as he steps toward me, but he doesn’t need to. It feels like he’s already taking my clothes off with his intense gaze. He stops in front of me, skimming his knuckles along my jawline, his warm breath tickling my ear as he whispers, “You know what? Maybe we should head back to the room so I can rip this dress off you.”