Page 5 of Redemption

Mia nods.

“Why are you helping me?”

“Because I’ve been there, honey. I was with a horrible man for too long. When I saw the way your husband was standin’ over you just now, I knew somethin’ wasn’t right. It felt like I went back in time for a second there.” Mia’s gesticulating wildly, and her New York accent is becoming more pronounced the longer she talks.

“How’d you get away?” My voice is so quiet, I’m not sure if she hears me.

She shrugs. “I stuffed my damn pride aside and asked for help.”

I wonder if that’s even an option for me. After all this time, would my family welcome me back home? I know I broke my parents’ hearts when I told them I didn’t want them to visit. I cringe when I recall the conversation where I implied they would embarrass me in front of my high-society friends. Little did they know, those friends were imaginary. Every time they asked me to come to Georgia, I had one excuse after another, acting as if my new life kept me so busy, I couldn’t possibly leave the city. Finally, when Sebastian was elected the mayor of New York City, they stopped asking. Since my wedding day, I haven’t seen my parents or my brother, which hurts me so much because we used to be so close. We still talk on the phone, but our conversations are brief, mostly on holidays, and always awkward. I blink back tears when it hits me how badly I miss them.

I sniffle. “Okay.”

Her brown eyes widen. “Really?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” Mia stands up. “I’ll be back in two minutes tops with those clothes.”

Ten minutes later, I’m dressed in an oversized Giants hoodie and jeans with a ball cap, and I’m sliding into the back seat of cousin Joey’s Prius. Mia was kind enough to give me her sunglasses to hide my swollen eye better.

“Good luck, Presley.”

“Thank you. For everything.” I pull the door closed, giving her a little wave through the window.

As the car pulls away from the curb, I take a deep breath to steady myself. Any minute now, Sebastian will know I’m gone, and once that happens, there’ll be no turning back.

Chapter Three

Presley

– Age 8

“The fish aren’t bitin’, Beck. We should go visit the new foals.”

“Try casting out a little farther,” he suggests.

I do as he says and flick my fishin’ rod off to the side, casting the fly halfway across the width of the pond.

I smile. “Like that?”

Beck nods. “Yeah. My dad says the fish bite better in the middle.”

I like fishin’ with Beck. Sometimes, we come here to sit on the dock and dip our toes in the water. Other times, like today, we try catchin’ some fish.

“Hey, Beck?”

“Yeah?”

“Whatcha wanna be when you grow up?”

Beck recasts his line, too. His fly doesn’t get as far as mine did, but I don’t rub it in because my mommy says that’s not nice. “That’s easy. I’m gonna be a rancher like my dad.”

“On a horse ranch like ours?”

“Maybe.” He takes a moment to think about it. “Or cattle. I really like the horses, though. I think it’d be cool to work with ‘em. My dad says he’ll let me help with the birthin’ next summer.”

I scrunch my nose up. “Birthin’ is messy.”

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