Page 16 of Obey

Turns out, Mr. Harry the Cheater had already tried all-the-s-e-x before I made my list. But I couldn’t ever get him to try much of anything. He liked it when I did number one on the list to him, but he never returned the favor. Something always came up; he was tired, someone on his phone needed him, he needed to eat. Looking back, the timing was always suspicious but I never figured it out. I was already the dutiful wife, taking care of my man while unbeknownst to me, he was taking care of someone else.

All the heroines in the books I read love when a guy does it with his tongue. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious.

I’m staring at Jagger’s mouth. He’s probably past reading number one on my list but I wonder if he gives his girlfriends—plural, because there’s no way a man like that hasn’t had a gazillion lovers, probably even in the last month—oral.

“Talia?”

“I’m here Mama.”

Here, but not really paying attention. Jagger’s face is impassive. My face is so hot I want to peel the skin off my cheeks and dangle it outside in the snow.

“The Winslow’s aren’t happy.”

Jagger’s face twitches. I can’t tell if it’s because of the name Mama said, or something on the list.

“I don’t care, Mama.” That’s a lie. I do care. I love Harry’s mom a lot. His dad has always been a bit aloof and quiet for my liking, but his mom has always made time for me.

“You need to fix this, Talia.” There’s a sharp edge to her voice, saying if I’d made my flight I might be threatened with a spanking if I didn’t do what she said.

“I did fix it. I broke up with the man who cheated on me and broke my heart.” My voice wobbles, but I don’t crack.

The weight of her sigh can be felt worldwide. “Talia.” Another sigh. “So dramatic. So unyielding and unreasonable. What about forgiveness?”

Harry doesn’t want my forgiveness, he’s never asked for it. Even if he did, though, doesn’t mean I’d give it to him, or marry him despite what he’s done.

“What about ‘Do not commit adultery’?” We aren’t married yet, but we’ve been as good as, since I lost my V-card to him when I was sixteen. My parents made sure of that.

“Talia.” There’s warning laced in one word. She’s got the parental inflection down pat.

“Yes, Mama?” I’m not playing dumb, but I’m also not going to let her manipulate or force me to stay in an unhappy relationship anymore. My parents may be unhappy, Harry and his parents may be unhappy, Pastor Rick may be unhappy, heck, even God himself might be unhappy, but I can’t do it anymore.

Jagger seems hugely interested in my list. Is he being polite? Or could he really bethatinterested?

I’m pretty sure he almost tried to kiss me while he unbuckled my ties on the throne.

“I’m not playing. Fix this. Or Harry Winslow is going to find himself a new bride.” Part of me wishes Jaggerhadkissed me. Can you imagine what a kiss from the hulking great brute would be like? There’s no way he doesn’t own anyone he kisses. That passion, burning fire that must scorch when his lips touches someone’s. That’s the love I want some day.

“I have a gorgeous Vera Wang she could have for her wedding.”

“Talia!”

If Jagger didn’t hear my name the first time, there’s no way he’s missed it now with that shriek. Will he call me Talia? Or will he keep calling me Half-Pint?

Either way, he smothers a snort with his hand. Our eyes meet for a fraction of a second and the gold flecks in his brown eyes sparkle. He nods at me. Is that encouragement? Support? An accidental head movement that means nothing at all, and I’m reading too far into it? I have no idea.

Am I experiencing a somewhat false sense of bravado right now because he’s standing watching me? Absolutely. Undeniably. Positively.

But I’d like to think I won’t backpedal when I eventually get home to Louisville. I should probably have walked into another room when the call connected, but I didn’t want to leave Jagger with my stuff. I didn’t want to snatch my pages from him and flee in case Mama heard the commotion and asked about where, and who, I was with. And part of me didn’t want to explore any more rooms in this dungeon. I have no idea what I might find, but I know for sure I’ve had my fill of self-discovery for the day, for the whole gosh dang month, even.

There’s a long silence on the line. The air between us is heavy. The way he’s looking at me doesn’t make me feel like the scolded child the phone call is leaving me feeling.

A thick strand of bright blue hair falls across my face, reminding me of the strength I had to get a chunk of my hair buzzed off with clippers and dyed a bright color. I can’t back down. I just can’t. It’s time for me to learn the word “no,” and to say it.

“Mama, I’m sorry you think I should stay in a relationship with a man who doesn’t respect me or treat me right. That makes me sad for you. But I know my worth, and Harold Winslow the Third, isn’t it.”

More silence greets me on the line, and for a moment, I check the call is even connected. It is. That lack of noise tells me Mama is less than happy. She’s furious. And since I’ve combatted herlogic with her own life lessons she’s bestowed on me through the years, I can only imagine she’s madder than a wet hen.

My future marriage with Harry wasn’t simply about saving face. I learned a few years after my forced betrothal to him it was also part of some business deal between Dad and Harry’s Granddaddy and Dad—the trio of Harry’s. I don’t know the particulars, didn’t need to because I was the cherry on top according to Harry the night we broke up.

---