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So, when my period was late for two weeks, I got nervous. When it was late for three, I got really nervous. When it was missing for four? I panicked. I ran to my Uncle Nicky’s girlfriend and begged her for help. One positive, cheap Walmart pregnancy test later and I was in the front seat of her car, racing down the highway to visit her “auntie” for some pills from Mexico.

I got lucky, and they worked exactly as advertised. The cramping and bleeding were horrific. I hadn’t realized my uterus could feel that way, like it was being turned inside out and wrung dry. The whole experience was traumatic, and I had been alone, handling something that was far more serious than any fifteen-year-old child should have to face.

When it was done, I promised myself I would be more careful. I started sneaking away to get the Depo shot from Planned Parenthood. That was still a thing back then, back before Abbott and his cronies went wild and decided to drag all Texas women back to the Stone Ages by forcing pregnancies on us. I had been able to access the care I needed to stay safe, to stay healthy.

Until, one day, Kiki found out where I was going. A whackjob protester had taken photos of women going in and out of the clinic and shared them on flyers posted around the town. Someone recognized me and took the flyer to Kiki.

And, my God, the beating he doled out for that transgression.

Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined an extension cord could hurt like that. It had never even crossed my mind to think someone would hit me with one.

But he did. He beat me until I couldn’t stand. He called me all sorts of degrading names. He accused me of being one of my uncle’s whores out walking the Track. Why else would I need birth control? Didn’t I want to give him a baby? Didn’t I love him? Didn’t I trust him to take care of me? Why did I want to kill his babies?

That messed me up mentally and physically. Looking back, that was the beating that broke me. That was the one that left me too exposed to ever recover. My protective shell had been shattered.

I was seventeen the second time I conceived. I thought he would be happy, but he had been furious. Suddenly, I was trying to baby-trap him. I was trying to keep him locked down and on the line for child support. He wasn’t even sure the baby was his. Maybe I was having an affair with Nero Robles, a boy on the pick-up basketball team I played with on the weekends. Maybe I was trying to leave him for another man.

He had been the one to bring me the pills that time. I hadn’t wanted to take them. I had been afraid of complications. I had already felt a connection to the tiny life growing inside me. It was my body, wasn’t it? Why couldn’t I make that decision for myself?

But he stood over me with that sawed-off Mossberg until I swallowed everything. He even checked my cheeks and under my tongue. Then he locked me in the bathroom and told me I couldn’t come out until I had proof that it was over.

The degrading humiliation of that gut-wrenching ordeal had turned my heart cold. I had finally understood that nothing I would ever do would be good enough for him. Nothing I would ever do would be right.

And I was stuck. I couldn’t get out.

It had struck me quite suddenly that I, like Maya Angelou, knew why that caged bird sings. I was that stuck starling Maria Bertram mentioned inMansfield Park.

But those feelings of self-loathing and hatred turned the soft, wounded exposed parts of me as hard as steel. I developed emotional armor. I withdrew into myself, protected inside my mind from the constant torment of the man who supposedly loved me.

And I promised myself that one day I would leave my cage.

One day, I would fly.

Chapter Fourteen

Thewarmglowofsunlight illuminated the bedroom we were sharing. Off in the distance, I heard the jingle of Wilford’s bell as he chased something, hopefully, one of his many toys and not a bug or something worse. He seemed to think I enjoyed the little pest presents he brought me. I acted as if I did so I wouldn’t hurt his feelings, but honestly, it squicked me right out to have to deal with dead scorpions and spiders.

Ignoring Wilford’s mischief, I snuggled back against Ten’s hot body. His broad chest was pressed to my back, and one of his heavy arms was draped over my waist. I was a tall woman, but he was so much bigger. My heels barely touched his calves, and I felt unnaturally small in his arms. He made me feel feminine and elegant, and I wondered if maybe I had always been waiting for a man just like him.

I could tell the moment he woke up because his breathing shifted. A moment later, his lips ghosted across my bare shoulder. I wore a nightgown with thin straps, and it became clear very quickly that he would have preferred I come to bed naked.

I closed my eyes and enjoyed the ticklish touch of his lips along the curve of my neck and clavicle. He nuzzled against the scarf I had hastily wrapped around my hair before bed and then nibbled at my earlobe. “How do you always smell so fucking good?”

His hand slipped under the hem of my nightgown, and he stroked my thigh. “Can I...?”

“Yes.” If he stopped, I was going to be a frustrated mess.

He chuckled against my neck. His caresses were slow and teasing. He swept his big hands over my belly and up between my breasts. He palmed one and then the other, squeezing and brushing his thumb over my nipples.

I could feel his erection growing against my back. Harder. Longer. Thicker. Memories of his dick thrusting in and out of me made my pussy throb. Slick heat dripped out of me, my body responding to the promise of incredible sex.

I reached back to stroke him. My hand followed the outline of his cock through his shorts, and he groaned against my ear. I liked those animalistic sounds he made, and when my hand slipped into his shorts, I was rewarded with a grunt. His rock-hard penis filled my hand, and I had the wildest urge to feel him inside my mouth.

I rolled over, careful not to bang my wounded leg, and pressed his shoulder until he was flat on his back. His gaze darkened as I lowered my head to his chest. I began to kiss the tattoos marking his skin. I didn’t know what they meant. Part of me never wanted to know. Someday, I would ask him. Not today.

Right now, I wanted to escape reality. I wanted to slip into a fantasy bubble where only the two of us existed. I wanted to pretend nothing else mattered outside the walls of this cabin. It was just me and Ten, wrapped up in our love nest.

I dragged his shorts down his hips, and he lifted up to help me slide them out of the way. They were kicked aside somewhere under the covers. His massive cock sprang straight up, and I marveled at how mean it looked. Thick. Throbbing. Drops of precum slipped from the tip, and I ran my thumb along them, gathering and tasting them with a swipe of my thumb. Ten growled at the sight, and I wondered what other sounds I could draw from him.

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