Page 34 of Wait For It

The thought made my stomach churn, but deep down, I knew I wasn’t the problem. It didn’t matter what other people believed because they didn’t know him like I did. They’d never experienced his rage.

But Morgan had.

Maybe to an even greater extent than me.

In what could only be described as unfortunate timing on my part, I’d overheard the sounds of Morgan’s quiet sobs while Tristan groaned loudly in what I presumed to be ecstasy. Even with my minimal experience, I wasn’t completely naïve when it came to sex. I just struggled to come to terms with the details of the arrangement.

When Sister Helene lectured us in health class on the importance of bearing Eve’s sin with submissive hearts, I’d almost believed she was joking. The lesson was just one of many in the church-funded private school curriculum, or, as I’d affectionately come to call it:A Study in Women’s Suffering.

There’d never been any real education in health class, just a consistent reminder that sex was a necessary punishment for women.We’d once spent an entire semester discussing how faithful and obedient Adam had been until his wife had used her sex to turn him away from the truth.

Because heaven forbid, we take a step back and examine the talking snake and his roadside fruit stand.

Despite our cursed souls, the church inexplicably believed our bodies were sacred vessels, meant to remain untouched and pure until our wedding night. It was a man’s divine right to join his body with his wife’s, bringing her sins to light. Because nine months of pregnancy and the agony of labor weren’t enough.

Unsurprisingly, I’d never been in much of a hurry to marry.

I might have assumed what I’d overheard was nothing more than the physical act of marriage, had I not seen the marks on Morgan’s body the following day. No lesson could explain the spectrum of old and new bruises coating her torso.

Nothing could explain that level of brutality.

Which was why I was having a hard time believing she’d see eye to eye with Tristan on anything. There had never been any problems between us. If anything, our shared wounds had only brought us closer together.

“If you would just listen to me—please,” she begged, hugging herself.

I shook my head, wanting to vomit as I remembered the things I’d shared with her over the years. Had she been sent to give me a lecture on remaining obedient, or to simply discuss the importance of not crashing Tristan’s luxury cars when running away from home?

Suddenly, she jolted upright, staggering toward me. I jerked the wheels again, but only managed a few inches before connecting with the side of the bed.

Morgan blocked my next escape attempt, locking her hand around my cheeks to pin me in place. “Listen to me, goddammit! I’m not here to hurt you.”

I tensed my shoulders as her fingers dug into the tender flesh above my jaw but didn’t move again. Morgan’s chest rose and fell with several rapid breaths before she loosened her hold on me.

“You cannot come back,” she forced out, her nostrils flaring. “Do you understand me?”

I nodded, not understanding at all.True Northcould only let me stay for up to twelve weeks. Regardless of what I wanted, eventually, I was going to have to go back. It wasn’t as if I was in any shape to do much else. Even if there’d been a solid plan behind my escape, the details of it were rotting along with the mangled remains of the convertible.

Morgan shook her head, one corner of her mouth lifting slightly. “You’re looking at me like you think I’m crazy. But I’m not. Ari, you know as well as I do that if you’re out here, you’re safe.”

There was a chance she was telling the truth, but my mind lingered in doubt. Tristan had never been one to let Morgan off her leash, especially not after what had happened to me. I froze; the hair on my neck lifting at the thought of him crouched just outside the door, patiently waiting for his cue to come in and absolve me of my many, many sins.

I pushed Morgan’s hand away from my face and grabbed my notebook.

Where is he? Is he putting you up to this?

She huffed a mirthless laugh and lowered her head. “C’mon, Ari. You’re smarter than that. Do you really think so little of me? Tristan’s in New York. Dean’s working.”

My father contracted an outside security firm two years ago, after claiming the church had been receiving threats. Overnight, Brother Caleb and his magazines were replaced by stone-faced men and Dobermans.

Dean must have been working the night of my accident. It made the most sense as he was the only one who ever spoke to us. Well, that and his willingness to look the other way for the right price.

How can I believe you?

Morgan’s lips moved silently as she read, mouthing each word like a curse. “I’m a little surprised you haven’t figured it out by now. I mean, haven’t you been even the slightest bit curious as to why he’s not here, watching your every move?”

If Tristan wanted to push for a plea of guilt, he would have sent Brad or another church elder to monitor me until I cracked. The fact I’d been left alone spoke volumes because it meant someone had taken my place. I tightened my hands into fists, squeezing until my fingernails dug into the flesh of my palms.

“That night, Tristan called. He’d wanted me to go down to the church to meet a guest pastor who’d flown in to speak. I guess he wanted to get a feel for the space. The details are kind of a blur now, but when I went outside, the convertible was missing.

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