Page 39 of Mortify

What choice do I have?

Stay with Dylan and raise a child in violence and fear?

Try to run and spend forever looking over my shoulder?

Or take this offer, this protection, this chance at something better?

"Crazy's better than dead," he says bluntly. "And that's where you were headed with him."

He's right. I know he's right.

Each time with Dylan gets worse.

Each beating more severe.

It was only a matter of time before he went too far.

"Okay," I whisper. "Okay. We do this. But Regnor..."

"What?"

"Thank you." The words seem inadequate for what he's offering, but they're all I have. "Thank you for?—"

"Don't thank me yet," he interrupts. "Thank me when you're safe. When the baby's here and healthy. When Dylan is nothing but a bad memory."

"How do we start? What do we tell people?"

"The truth, twisted just enough." He's already planning, I can see it in his eyes. "You've been unhappy with Dylan for months. We connected at the club, started seeing each other in secret. Had a couple of drunken romps in the sack after being at Bubba’s together. You got pregnant. You're leaving him for me. Simple."

"Simple," I repeat, laughing shakily. "Nothing about this is simple."

"No," he agrees. "But it's necessary. And Everly? We're going to sell this. Every look, every touch, every word. Until we even believe it."

"What if I'm not a good enough actress?"

"You won't be acting." His voice drops. "Not about being protected. Not about being cared for. That's all real. The rest... we'll figure out as we go."

I take a shaky breath.

This morning I was alone, pregnant, terrified.

Now I have a protector, a plan, a way out. It seems too good to be true.

"When do we tell people?"

"Soon. But first, you need to eat something. Rest. Let the shock settle." He glances toward the kitchen. "Vail brought soup?"

"Yeah."

"Then eat. I'll stay."

"You don't have to?—"

"Yes, I do." His voice brooks no argument. "From now on, you're not alone in this. Ever. That's what this means."

I nod, throat tight with emotion.

He heats up the soup while I sit at my small table, watching him move around my kitchen like he belongs there.

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