My family was right—I’m a disappointment. A sick whore that enjoys whatever her husband wants to do to her.
We sit in the bath until the water is cold, but my cries have subsided. Now I’m exhausted. The aftermath hits me like a train. I can feel my body shutting down on me, needing some rest.
He gently washes me clean and then helps me out. My legs shake so bad I can barely stand. So after he dries me off, he picks me up and places me in our bed under the comforter. I curl up into a ball away from him, still too embarrassed, and close my eyes.
He shifts behind me, and then his strong arm wraps around me from behind, pulling me into him. I wish I had the strength to push him off, but I don’t. So instead, I allow him to hold me like he cares, and fresh tears sting my eyes as a sob escapes my trembling lips.
He pulls away from me, and I let him go, unable to hold onto him. I feel cold all of a sudden, but then his hands are on me, and he’s pulling my shoulder, forcing me to roll toward him. “No—” I choke out, trying to push him away, not wanting to have to face him, but he doesn’t stop.
“Come here, little darling. Let me hold you,” he says softly. Pulling my front into his, he wraps his arm around me once again, and I bury my face into his chest. He kisses my forehead. “You’re okay, Lake. I’ve got you.”
I cling to him, hating that the very man who forced me to marry him is the same man who makes me feel safe. I’m not sure why he’s being so nice. Tyson isn’t the kind of guy I’d expect to cuddle after he uses you. But I don’t push him away. Instead, I cling to him, loving the sense of security no matter how fake it is.
When you’ve been starving for affection all your life, you’ll accept the least amount of effort given and turn it into something it isn’t. Tyson is that man for me. He’s what I wish I always had even though I know it’s what I’ll never find.
THIRTY-NINE
TYSON
Three years ago
Ryat and I are sitting in my car in the house of Lords parking lot about to get out when my cell rings. Whitney lights up my screen. “Hello?” I answer.
“Hey,” she responds, sounding breathless.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Can you meet me?” she asks. Before I can answer, she goes on, “Someone has been following me all day.”
I sit up straighter. “What do you mean all day?” A look at the clock says it’s after six p.m. “Why are you just now calling me?”
“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. But…”
“But what?” I demand.
“Well, I got a text last night from an unknown number. I didn’t think anything of it.”
“What did it say?”
“It was a picture of me in my bed. Naked.”
“What the fuck, Whitney?” I bark out.
“I didn’t think anything of it,” she repeats. “Thought it was Lake fucking with me, ya know?” she goes on. “But when I asked her about it, she had no clue what I was talking about. And today, I keep noticing this same car everywhere I go.”
“Where are you?” I put my car in gear.
“I’m on my way, to the house of Lords. I just finished up with my study group at Barrington.”
“I’ll head your way and then once I reach you, I’ll follow you back here, okay?”
“Okay,” she says, letting out a shaky breath. “Thanks, Ty.”
I standat the end of the bed while I watch Lake sleep. I crawled into bed with her after our bath, and I held her while she cried herself to sleep in a matter of seconds. Her body worn out.
Kneeling, I reach underneath the bed and pick up her wedding ring. I watched it roll under there when she took it off earlier, thinking she was making a point. She wishes it was that easy for her to leave me.
Walking back over to the side of the bed, I take her left hand and slide it onto her finger. “Sweet dreams, little darling.” I lean down and kiss her forehead, letting my lips linger before reluctantly pulling away.
