Page 68 of Deserter

My muscles tensed around him and I pressed a hand to his chest. “Please.”

He shoved into me again in response, harder this time. Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes, but I refused to blink. I refused to let him see me break. I would cling to what little control I possessed until he realized the truth.

“I know who you’re with.” His finger moved deeper, and I cried out. He smiled up at me, as if my pain amused him.

This was the monster that he’d warned me about. This was the man who ruthlessly ran the underworld. He got what he wanted by striking when people least expected it. I’d just been stupid enough to ignore the flashing red warning lights.

He picked up the pace, shoving his finger in and out of me. “There is nothing that you do that I don’t know about within minutes. And if you wanna act like a child, running around and breaking my rules, I’ll treat you like one.”

His hand came down again, stinging my flesh and filling my eyes. A dull ache spread throughout my lower body as his thrusts moved deeper. I was a rag doll, an object to be used and abused by its owner.

My body hovered in some in-between state as he took his frustrations out on me before the pain returned, slamming into me like a truck and forcing a shuddered breath from my lungs. “Y-you’re hurting me!”

I gulped in a breath of air before releasing the sob that had been building over the last few minutes. I no longer cared about retaining control. I just wanted it to stop.

Jamie pulled his finger from my body and I brought my hand up over my mouth with a whimper. He followed my eyes down to a finger stained pink with my blood.

Without a word, I slid from his lap onto the floor, curling my arms around myself protectively.

Jamie dropped to his knees beside me. “Fuck, Celia. I’m sorry. I’m so fuckin’ sorry!”

“D-don’t hurt m-me!” I forced out with another sob.

I realized then that Lucy was wrong. Bikers were capable of apologizing, but only when they’d done the unthinkable.

Chapter Fifteen

Celia: 1989

In Homer’sOdyssey, Calypso was a nymph stranded on the mythical island of Ogygia. She kept the Greek hero, Odysseus, for seven years; entertaining him with her singing until the gods demanded he be released to return to his true love. It was never in his destiny to live with her forever. Some say she later bore him a child, yet he never returned for either of them.

According to Homer, Calypso was a captor, holding Odysseus prisoner. I saw her for what she was though; an isolated woman, desperate for love.

She must’ve had powers that I would never possess. I hadn’t once been able to convince Jamie to leave his true love behind and run away with me.

The siren song of the club would always drown out my voice. In the five months we’d lived together, he’d stayed overnight twice. He’d come home, usually with other bikers, and eat before heading out again. Ever since that night, though, it was as if he went out of his way to ensure we were never alone again.

I wasn’t invited to family events at the club, and even Lucy couldn’t tell me what I’d done wrong. My days consisted of the same things—supermarket and library runs, but I was very much a prisoner in this house.

I didn’t lose our baby that night, but I lost Jamie. He’d called the club doctor to the house and paced frantically, rubbing his hands over his face while the doctor checked me over.

It was reassuring to know that what I’d experienced was normal and most likely the result of my long trek to the library. I was ordered to take it easy for a few days, but something had changed.

Jamie hadn’t touched me since and it seemed that he couldn’t even look at me with anything other than regret. The first time I placed his hand on my growing belly, he’d yanked it back as though he’d been burned.

I didn’t try again.

The remainder of my first trimester had been spent on the bathroom floor, scared and alone. The calls to my mother went unreturned and I was forced to rely on the library’s pregnancy books to get through.

Just as Lucy predicted, there was no talk of marriage or even what we were going to do when the baby came. Month after month, the nursery sat empty and I began to slip into a sadness that I couldn’t seem to shake. Were it not for the baby’s daily kicks, reminding me that I had a purpose, I wasn’t sure I would’ve made it.

My breasts were fuller, and everything had become a little rounder, yet the man I wanted more than anything couldn’t stand the sight of me. I needed to be touched but had grown accustomed to wrapping my body around his pillow at night.

“Celia!”

I let out a shuddering breath and sat up in bed. All traces of sunlight were gone, meaning I’d been asleep for far longer than planned. It also meant that there was no meal waiting on the table either.

I straightened my oversized shirt dress and stood up, nearly toppling back onto the bed from the dizziness. It had persisted, despite the pregnancy book stating it wouldn’t. If I moved slowly, things stayed level. It was when I moved too quickly that everything spun out of control.

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