Page 16 of Redemption

I whimper, accepting my fate.

When he notices I’m no longer struggling, he cants his head to the side, assessing me carefully. I look him directly in the eye with as much hatred as I can possibly manage. If Sebastian insists on doing this, I’m going to make damn sure he knows it’s not freely offered. I’m going to leave no doubt as to how much he disgusts me. And when it’s over, one way or another, I’m going to do everything in my power to ensure it’s the last time he ever gets his hands on me.

A cruel smirk forms on his lips as he enters me. Despite his earlier attempts, there’s no lubrication, but he somehow forces himself inside anyway. One of his hands remains on my throat, daring me to give him a reason to squeeze, while the other digs into my hip with bruising force as he pistons in and out of my body. Sebastian is well-endowed, so the pain steals my breath. I bite my tongue and cheek, dig my fingernails into my palms. I do anything I can think of to distract myself from the horror of it, so I don’t give him the satisfaction of crying out. This man has had enough of my tears, and I refuse to give him any more.

Sebastian takes my silence as a challenge, one I readily accept. No matter how roughly he drills into me, no matter how hard he pinches my nipples or digs his thumb into my inner thigh, I refuse to make a peep. It’s the most remarkable performance I’ve ever given because while I may appear stoic on the surface, I’m dying on the inside. Any inkling of hope I may have been holding on to has been shredded beyond repair. The longer it goes on, the more enraged he becomes when I don’t give him the response he’s looking for. When his body stiffens, and he spills his seed into me, I breathe a sigh of relief, knowing it’s almost over.

But my relief is short-lived as I see the look on his face when he pulls out and tucks himself back into his pants. He’s deceptively calm, so much so, I ask myself if this is the moment I die? My husband’s fists come flying at me so fast, I don’t even have a chance to blink before they meet my flesh. Sebastian doesn’t say a word as he rains blow after blow down on my body. My face, my ribs, my stomach, nothing is off the table. He’s no longer concerned about limiting his punches to non-visible places. I finally break and scream so hard my throat is raw when he twists my arm at an unnatural angle, causing excruciating pain in my shoulder. When he releases me, my arm falls limply to my side, completely useless. I’m almost certain he pulled it right out of its socket. I double over, vomiting all over the expensive rug. The last thing I see before blacking out is Sebastian’s designer loafer coming at the side of my head.

Chapter Eleven

Presley

– Age 17

I drum my fingers over the kitchen table, overwhelmed by all the possibilities before me. I drove to Atlanta this past weekend with Nicky to go to a college fair. There were representatives from over two hundred different universities. Community colleges, private or state universities—the choices were endless. I have packets from at least half of those spread out before me.

I finger the corner of an NYU pamphlet. Beck and I have talked at great length about which school we’d choose. We’d both like to major in business, so we have flexibility. The University of West Georgia seemed to be our best option—it’s only about two hours from Hope, and we’d get in-state tuition. I love Hope, and I especially love this ranch, but I’ve been itching for something more for years now. I want to experience life outside of small-town America. I want to know what it’s like to live in a city surrounded by millions, eating all the takeout you can imagine, exploring the arts, and experiencing various cultures. What better time to do that than your college years?

New York City was never on my radar. Still, after meeting with their admissions representative, I can’t lie to myself and say the idea doesn’t intrigue me. Honestly, it excites me. I can’t stop thinking about how much I’d be able to see and do daily. I’m torn because I thought we had this all figured out, and now I’m being pulled in a different direction.

The only thing I know for sure is that I want to be close to Beck. Not because I don’t think our relationship wouldn’t survive distance—I know it would. I just don’t want to be without him, and he feels the same way about me. We’ve been together almost every day for the past thirteen years. He’s not only my boyfriend—he’s part of my soul. Nobody knows me like Beck. He’s my best friend. My confidant. He makes me feel loved and safe. When I’m away from him for any length of time, it feels like a part of me is missing. I don’t want to dive into college with that kind of emptiness.

I look up when I hear the screen door squeak. Beck walks into the kitchen, looking gorgeous as ever in his flannel, jeans, and boots. The main house is just as much his home as mine, so knocking isn’t something he’s ever needed to do.

“Hey,” he says with a big smile.

“Hey.” I discreetly flip over the NYU brochure as I stand up to greet him with a kiss.

He looks at the pile on the table. “What’s all this?”

I know I have to approach this delicately. Beck loves everything about living here. He’s never been drawn to city living—he’d be happy staying in Hope forever. The only reason he even wants to go to college is that he wants his own horse ranch one day. He’s already had all the hands-on experience he needs with the animals, but he wants to learn more about running a successful business. I don’t know what I want to do after school, but a business degree is transferable, so I figured it’s not a bad way to go.

I follow his eyes to the table. “I brought home a bunch of stuff from the college fair I went to with Nicky.”

“Why? We already know where we’re going. I thought you only went so she didn’t have to make the drive by herself.”

“Well, that’s how it started. But there were hundreds of schools there, and some of them seem amazing, Beck. It wouldn’t hurt to have options, right?”

He frowns. “What’s going on, Pres? Are you changing your mind?”

“No! Not exactly, anyway. But what if we went out of state? Don’t you think it could be fun?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “I thought we decided to stay close to family. And staying in-state is a lot cheaper.”

I shrug. “It’s not like we’d be leaving forever.”

He scrubs a hand over his face. “Where are you thinking? Did any of them stand out more than the others?”

I take a deep breath and pick up the NYU pamphlet. “This one.”

“New York City? Are you shittin’ me, Presley? Why would you ever want to go there?”

“Why not? It could be fun.”

“Yeah, if you like concrete,” he mutters. “Or getting mugged.”

“Beckett, I’m serious. Think of all the things we could experience. Would you at least consider it?”

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