Page 1 of His Wild Attraction

PROLOGUE ELLIE

Six Months Ago

“Mommy? Where are we going?” Sammy’s sweet voice whispered in the darkness.

“Hush, Baby. It’s okay. Mommy’s here. We’re going somewhere safe,” I whispered, and gathered my son close to my body with my one good arm.

He was scared and upset, and my heart broke for him. A child should never see a father hurt his mother.

Gary was the man who’d vowed to love and cherish me. He was the man who insisted on starting a family right away.

But somewhere deep in my mind, I must have known he wasn’t a genuinely good person. Somewhere deep in my heart, I must have realized what he really wanted. And it wasn’t me. Or Sammy.

Fuck.

This was all my fault. Tears pricked my eyes, whether it was from the pain in my body or the crack in my heart, I wasn’t sure.

But I couldn’t let Sammy see my despair, so I sucked it up, and left the midtown condo where I’d lived with my husband with our son in my arms. I had a backpack slung over my shoulder with a few things I’d hastily thrown together.

My wallet. Sammy’s birth certificate. Some cash. A few articles of clothing for both of us, and our toothbrushes.

Our first stop was to the ER where a doctor treated my injuries and wrapped my broken arm in a hard cast.

I was lucky it was a clean break, and I didn’t need surgery. She was sympathetic and agreed to not argue about how I’d sustained the injury for my son’s sake.

Sammy was tuckered out and slept on the exam table beside me as I signed myself out of the ER.

Our second stop was at St. Elizabeth’s Shelter for Women and Children. I’d seen signs for the shelter posted all over town and knew where it was located.

I never imagined I would need such a facility, but I was so tired, and I had nowhere else to go.

No family left. No friends—Gary had made sure of that. And no support system.

I never finished college, and I didn’t have a job. Gary was like my father in that respect. They both had very outdated views of women.

Gary wanted his wife to stay at home and keep the house running neatly.

I didn’t mind that so much.

In fact, my joy of cooking was very real. The only thing that rivaled it was being Sammy’s mother. I would have been happy being a modern housewife raising our child, if only he’d loved me even a little.

Sammy was the only good thing to come of our marriage. My rambunctious boy was bright and sweet. Not that Gary was any kind of father to him.

I used to brush it off. Make excuses. He was a busy man. Older than me by almost fifteen years. Gary Peters worked for my father, and when we first met, he’d showered me with all the attention my father had denied me growing up.

My mother had died when I was young, and I was sure a therapist would have a field day diagnosing me. But I had no time for that.

No, this wasn’t the first time Gary had hit me, but it was the first time he’d left bruises.

I was so fucking ashamed of myself for allowing it to get this far. But I would deal with my emotional baggage later.

Sammy came first.

Always.

He was supposed to start preschool this year, but with everything that happened, I never enrolled him.

It was probably for the best. I would never have been able to explain these bruises, or the broken arm.

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