Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 74227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“Only I hadn’t realized he’d made a move. I’d just thought he was a blood donor. Turns out, Sal had never donated blood before in his life. He’d come to the donation center to ask me on the date, but I had no doubt in my mind that had I said no to his offer of a date, he’d have gotten me to go out with him some other way.” I closed my eyes. “That date was the date I got pregnant.”
I closed my eyes, feeling sick to my stomach.
“The first time he beat me was the first day of our honeymoon while we were in the Bahamas,” I continued. “I miscarried.”
He growled, but I continued before he could ask.
“He was drunk. Pissed off that he was forced to marry me,” I continued. “See, I was only an obsession to him. A plaything, if you will. He wanted me, but he didn’t want to be married to me. We had somewhat of an arranged marriage. He’d done the unthinkable for a Donovan. Gotten a woman pregnant, and he had to make it right. I, being the stupid girl that I was, thought I was making a good decision. I was excited…happy.”
He squeezed my waist.
“After he beat me, I miscarried in the bathroom while he was passed out drunk,” I said. “Then he beat me again the next morning when he found out that I’d lost the baby that he’d been forced to marry me because of.”
He dropped his head to my shoulder.
“At that point, I think he was just with me to punish me,” I said. “He did what he wanted. Who he wanted.” I knew he got my point because he growled again. “He was a police officer. Like his father. His grandfather. His mother.”
Baylor exhaled.
“You never stood a chance, did you?”
I shook my head.
Tears threatened, but I choked them back and continued.
“I stayed with him for eight years. Did the things he forced me to do and played his happy little wife who always did what he said.” I paused. “I tried to leave four other times before this last time that was successful.”
“And what happened the first four times?”
He knew that there was more to the story than I was letting on.
“He beat me so bad that I miscarried the first and third times.”
Everything inside of him stilled.
“If I didn’t have sex with him, he got mad. If I took birth control, he got mad. So, I had no defense. It was bound to happen.” I hiccupped as I tried to find the ability to draw air. “The second time I found out I was pregnant, I stole a thousand dollars from his mother and tried to run.” I opened my eyes and looked at the streetlight that was five houses down from Baylor’s. “He found me within twenty minutes. That’s when I found out that he had an app on my phone that told him when I left a certain area.”
At this point, Baylor’s arms were around me so tightly that I knew he was very angry and upset…for me.
But I continued.
“That night, he beat me, then beat me again the next morning when he found out I lost the baby for the second time.” I choked. “The third time, a year later, I managed not to take my phone. My mistake was trying to take money from our account…which he had an alert set up for when anything over a hundred dollars was withdrawn. He caught me at the ATM machine.”
“And then he did the same thing again,” Baylor guessed.
I smiled, but it wasn’t nice. Not at all.
“He waited to beat me for a few days,” I said. “I wasn’t expecting it. Which was what he was hoping would happen. He waited for me to let my guard down before he did anything.”
“And the last?”
“It took me a year, but I was able to do it. And I got on birth control.” I bit my lip. “I’ve never seen him so angry in my life than when he found the pills I’d hidden. That was the day that I decided that I’d leave or die trying. I waited until he was at work and stole a car. His mother’s. And I drove until I was out of gas. From there, I walked to a shelter that was two towns over from where the car broke down. That’s where I got the name of an organization that helped women get free of abusive situations.”
“And then what?”
“Then, they sent me here,” I said. “Harold was my point of contact with them. He is the man that set up the girl before me. The one that was with your brother—or so I’ve heard.”
He looked like he wanted to ask about that, but chose to keep silent. “Why in the hell would they choose Harold?”