Page 3 of Claim Me Forever

I want to ask a million questions, but I know better. Not only would I face punishment, but I wouldn't receive the answers either. I have to bite the inside of my cheek so I don’t. I can ramble when I’m nervous or excited. I seem to have two modes. I’m either as quiet as a church mouse or I can’t shut up. There is no in-between.

My mother stands in the doorway, glaring at me. I’m sure she’s mad about my father being in a terrible mood. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s been taking it out on her, the one person who would do anything for him. Even sell out her own kids to make him happy.

“Don’t get any ideas,” my father says when he hammers the last nail into place. “Understand?” He uses the hammer to point at me.

“Yes, sir,” I answer. He gives me a curt nod before turning to go but stops in the doorway. “Don’t forget to say your prayers.” With that, he closes the door. I hear the lock click into place.

I fall back onto my bed, huffing out a breath. The simple action makes my lip sting. I hate them so much. I’m trapped, and if what my father said is true, soon Winter will be too. I should have told her to just leave me behind, to not worry about getting help. At least one of us could have been free.

Warm tears slip down my cheeks. I don’t bother wiping them away. I roll over and pull a pillow into my arm. I bury my face in it. I must doze off at some point. When I wake, I can see that it’s daylight out. The snow is still coming down. I listen but don’t hear anything. If they really found Winter, wouldn’t they bring her back here?

Crap, I’m honestly not sure what they would do. I pull myself from my bed, going over to the window. My leg aches with every step. It’s always the worst when I first wake up. The cold doesn’t help it either.

You can’t see much with the snow still falling so heavily, but I do notice there are some people out and about in the far distance. Our house sits a touch higher than some of the other buildings and homes on the compound.

I jump back from the window when I hear a yelp that is quickly cut off. I stand there waiting to hear more, but there is absolutely no other sound. If my father was going at it with my mother, there would be yelling and more, but it’s utterly quiet.

When I check the door handle, it’s still locked from the day before. I debate whether I should unlock it. My sister taught me how, but then I would get busted for knowing how to pick the lock.

My eyes catch a shadow in front of my door. I quickly step back, forgetting that my leg is still stiff. I nearly lose my balance, but I manage to steady myself by gripping the dresser, just in time to hear the lock click before the door opens.

I see the last thing I’d ever thought I would see again. I recognize the man from the town I visited with my father months ago. It’s so shocking to see him here that it takes me a moment to catch up with everything else. Such as the gun in his hand. My mother is standing next to him with fear written all over her face.

“Get warm clothes on,” he says when he finally speaks. “In.” The man, brandishing his gun, motions for my mother to enter the room. She quickly does as he orders. He steps in behind her, closing the door. “Libby, get dressed and put shoes on.” How the heck does he know my name? Maybe I’m still sleeping and this is all a dream. I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve dreamt of the handsome stranger. “We have to get moving.” His deep voice sends a shiver through my body, letting me know I’m definitely not asleep.

“But—” I open and close my mouth, finally getting my wits about me. “It’s you.” I could never have forgotten him. It was an unforgettable experience. Father never allowed us to go to town, but on that particular day, the other boys were too busy to assist in picking up an order from the hardware store, so he took Winter and me instead.

We were leaving after getting everything loaded up, and I spotted him across the way. It was his size that initially caught my attention. I’d never seen a man built like him. He was solid. Even his height is unmatched. Compared to this man, every man on the compound looks like a damn skeleton.

More than anything, it was his eyes that captured my attention. They’d stayed locked with mine. I’d felt attraction in a way I never had. Who am I kidding? I have never experienced attraction toward anyone. I’m surrounded by terrible men.

“It’s me. Now I need you to get dressed. We’re getting out of here.”

“What!” my mother hisses. “You can’t take her.”

“I told you I’d gag you if you didn’t shut up.” My mother presses her lips together tightly. “Libby.”

“I can’t go with you. I don’t know you.” It’s a stupid thing to say. I want the hell out of here, but there are still fears of people from the outside. They’re dangerous. They are all going to hell for their sinful ways. That rhetoric has been driven into us for so long. Plus, Winter. If Father is to bring her back here, I can’t leave. I would never be able to live a happy life thinking about what consequences she would be suffering for running away.

“You’re coming with me.” His tone holds no argument. When I don’t move, I see a muscle in his jaw tick. “Winter sent me.” Both my mother and I gasp. “Now move it.”

As quickly as I can, I search for a sweater to put over my dress. It goes all the way down to my ankles.

“You don’t have pants?”

“No.” I shake my head at the ridiculous question. “That’s sinful.” I hate my words the second they cross my lips. His brows pull together. “Against the rules here.”

He mutters under his breath a few curse words that I have only ever heard when other men didn’t know I was in earshot. My mother glares at him, but he clearly doesn’t care.

“Shoes, babe,” he orders again. I scurry to get them. Did he really call me babe? Isn’t that a flirty pet name shared between lovers?

When I glance over at him, I see him watching my every step. His expression has changed. I can tell he's irritated and maybe a bit pissed off. In our world, you learn to read men.

It dawns on me that he’s probably noticing my limp. He probably is annoyed that it’s taking me so long. It makes my heart drop, which is silly. I guess I had this lingering hope that he was attracted to me too. He clearly remembered me from that day.

My limp is the reason I have not been offered a marriage proposal. I’m damaged goods, as my father would say. However, he never seemed particularly upset about it. I would simply remain here, he said. Does my father forget he is the one that did this to me? I’m sure not. He’d say it was God’s will if it was thrown in his face. I hate when they said that.

I sit on my bed to put on my shoes. I can’t just balance on one foot. That would put too much pressure on my bad leg.

---