Page 24 of Rose's Ripped Van Winkle

“Let me go,” I whisper urgently. “This could be bad.”

Rip doesn't move. He tightens his grip on me and looks into my eyes. His gaze is dark and unwavering as he speaks. “It's going to be okay, Rose. Nobody is going to hurt you while I'm here. Do you trust me?”

I give a weak nod. My heart's pounding so hard I feel like it will burst through my chest any second now. Rip releases me and takes one step toward the door, but I grab his arm in panic, feeling desperate not to let him go up against my father and brothers alone.

“You've had your taste of life away from us,” my older brother Luke shouts through the door. “It's time to come back now, Rosie.”

I feel like I'm two different people. Here in Rip's embrace, I take strength from him, but there's still a five-year-old Rosie inside me who wants to run and hide, or worse—give in.

“Wilton Freeman has asked me for your hand in marriage, even though it's common knowledge you're no longer pure.” Hearing those words from my father's lips reminds me not only of everything wrong with my childhood, but also every single reason I never want to return.

“We’ll get you married the day we get back and you can put all this foolishness behind you.” That was my second-oldest brother, Caleb. Crap, there’s three of them against Rip and me.

Rip grabs his pants and pulls them on as he whispers, “I'll fight for you. I'll protect you.”

He will. Of that, I have no doubt. Something breaks apart inside me as I imagine him doing just that. I picture the four men fighting, screaming, threatening each other.

Like a lightning bolt, I have the stark realization that this isn't about Luke or Caleb or Rip or my father.

It’s about me. As a grown woman, it’s time I act like one and take my life into my own hands. I’ve already done a lot of changing, an unbelievable amount of courageous growth. I’m here. I sued my parents and bought this house, but the fact is, I had to run away to do it. Until now, I’ve never stood up to them, never told them face to face that I’m my own person and am determined to live my life, making my own mistakes.

One glance at my phone tells me there's still no cell service. No way to call the police.

Looking at Rip, I hope he sees the grit and determination on my face. “I can do this Rip. I know you want to fix this for me, but I have to deal with this head-on. On my own.”

His face shows his reluctance to let me open the door. His fists open and close as he readies himself for a fight, but he takes a deep breath and nods to me.

“You’re right, Rose. This fight is yours.” He flashes me a supportive smile and adds, “Just say the word and I’ll be the best backup a strong woman like you ever had.”

After taking a deep breath and squaring my shoulders, I throw on a t-shirt and shorts, stalk to the door, and swing it wide open.

“I thought not answering my phone was a clear message,” I say as they press through the door without permission.

I don’t know what their plan was. Perhaps they were going to grab me and stuff me into the back seat of their car—or the trunk. One glance at Rip makes them rethink their plan.

“Who is he?” Luke seethes.

My mind is flying like the world’s fastest computer. I could tell them the barest facts, but they don’t deserve to know anything. They shouldn’t be here and certainly had no right to barge in without my permission.

I need to break ties once and for all.

“My lover.”

It’s funny how those two words left my mouth. I didn’t spit them out, nor did I say it with embarrassment. Instead, I heave them like a war lance.

Take that dad, Luke, Caleb, and anyone else who cares to know. I may still be a virgin, but I have a lover.

I lift my chin and spew out my truth, even though I know they not only don’t want me to say it, but won’t hear—really hear—a word I say.

“This is Rip. He loves me.” I know I’m overstepping. Although he’s never uttered those words, I know I can patch things up with him later.

“That’s right.” He steps closer and possessively slides his arm around my waist. I love how he doesn’t take over the conversation, mansplain, over-talk me, or threaten them. He knows I’m strong and he will not steal my moment.

“See this house?” I motion toward the bookcase. “This is mine. I bought it outright and lay claim to everything inside it.” A smile plays across my lips as the realization dawns that I just claimed Rip along with the books and furnishings. I hope he doesn’t mind.

“I wake when I want, go to sleep when I want, and spend my time from morning to night doing exactly what I want.”

My father’s face is turning red and his mouth is working although no words are coming out. Good. It gives me more time to talk without interruption.

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