Page 39 of Stables

Wait. I shouldn’t think of her that way.

She is though.

Or maybe it’s her resilience that has intrigued me.

I’ve witnessed women who come in after domestic violence cases that were completely shattered. Their self-esteem often so ruined, they can’t function without the person who put them in the hospital to start with.

It’s a travesty I’ve seen over and over.

They’re too fearful to leave.

Char showed she was able to take the leap, and she’s fighting to survive her choice.

I respect the hell out of her.

It makes me want to do more to help her.

Protect her.

Hold her close, wrap my arms around her, and—

What was that noise? Did it come from the barn?

I almost hit my head on the shell when I sit up, straining to listen. It almost sounded like water?

No.

Glass.

What the fuck?

I’m pulling on my second boot when I hear a high pitched scream come through the thin walls of the house.

Char!

Chapter 11

Char

Did I hear something?

Must be that darned branch rubbing against the house again. Sometimes it makes a cracking sound.

Snuggling Paisley, I’m just drifting back asleep when a rough hand clamps over my nose and mouth, but slips when I jerk.

Fear jolts me awake.

Matt’s silhouette stands over me between the bed and the bathroom, his face only inches from mine.

“Who the fuck is in my driveway?” he growls, pressing my head deeper into the pillows.

Dixon is.

Grabbing Matt’s wrist, I barely manage to free my lips long enough to let out the loudest scream I can muster. I’ve nevercried out before when Matt has been rough, but I haven’t had someone nearby to help, either.

Please hear me Dixon.

“Fucking whore, calling your boyfriend?” Matt’s sweaty palm slips back over my sore mouth and he squeezes my cheeks hard enough to lift me closer to him. “He can’t protect you. You’re mine.”