Chapter 7

 

 

 

 

I dreamed about Drew more and more. He was haunting me, consuming my sleep, and I knew it was the Las Vegas trip that weighed heavy on my mind. I was so thankful for Dawson being there to talk me down every time I woke up panicked.

Three days before the trip was the worst. I went to bed with Dawson; the dread and anticipation of being in Las Vegas were nerve-wracking. I fell right to sleep after he had fixed me a cup of Starlight’s famous relaxing tea.

***

It was the first time ever that Drew took me out in public. He had a benefit banquet and a lot of well-to-do people were going to be there. He had a stylist come over to do my hair and bought me a beautiful evening gown. My makeup and nails were done professionally as well. I met him in the foyer, and I actually felt a little something for him. He looked so handsome in his tuxedo and his mouth noticeably dropped when he saw me. My hair was up with soft dangling curls. I wore a beautiful, open back dress that was black with a low cut front, showing just the right amount of cleavage. The dress was long and slit clear up my right side. The material hugged my curves perfectly and the three inch stilettos with the strap delicately wrapping my ankles, tied it all together.

That was the first time that I knew for sure what Drew did for a living, and why he was so rich. He took my hand and opened the door for me. I felt happy and was glad to get out of the house, of course he coached me the whole way. I knew what I was allowed to say and what I wasn’t, which was pretty much nothing. Smile and look pretty that was my job.

We pulled into a fairly empty parking garage, and I wondered what we were doing there. It didn’t look like a place for a banquet; however, the building was breathtaking. I had been to downtown Las Vegas a few times, but not in the evening when the lights seemed magical.

“What are we doing, Drew?” I asked, wondering whether I should or not.

“I’m taking you to one of my stores,” he replied as the driver pulled right up to the elevator doors.

I wanted to ask him what kind of store, but I had a pretty good idea. I had heard him on the phone enough to pick up bits and pieces.

The ride was in a very impressive elevator. The back wall was mirrored. White, soft leather benches covered the other two sides. My breath caught in my throat when the doors opened to the sixteenth floor.

We were standing in the most exquisite jewelry store I had ever seen. Well, I had never seen one, but still. The white marble floors gleamed, and the massive amount of lit display cases with sparkling diamonds were breathtaking. I knew that Drew worked in diamonds, but I wasn’t expecting that, at all. The lighted sign above the store read, ‘Callaway Jewels.’ I had seen the commercials a million times and never knew. I knew that this was not his only store: the commercials advertised the twelve others throughout the country along with three in Europe.

“Drew?” I said, questioning what I was doing there. A man in a white tuxedo reached for my hand.

“You need to go pick out your wedding rings. I can’t take you to a party as my wife without rings.” He actually smiled happily at me.

“I need your help,” I assured him.

“Why?” he asked annoyed.

“How do I know what to get? How much money should I spend? I don’t know how to do this, Drew. Come with me, please,” I begged.

He laughed. “Don’t worry about the money. Pick out what you want. I have to make a call. Carson is here to help you.”

I took the man’s white gloved hand, and he led me to the lit case of rings.

“You can pick anything from this case,” he instructed.

I didn’t want to pick from that case. I knew that I was being shown the most expensive pieces in the store. They were all so beautiful, and I had a hard time deciding. I wanted them all. I only remembered owning one ring in my entire life. My grandma Joyce had ordered it from Avon for me. I felt bad for leaving it behind when I was taken away from my home. I didn’t wear it much because it had left a black ring around my finger when I did, but I cherished it because it was a gift from my grandma.

I chose a stunning, six-carat shimmering pink diamond ring, complete with three baguette white diamonds set in platinum and rose gold. I stared at the ring constantly as we drove to our destination. Drew noticed my joy and commented.

“You like that?” he asked.

“I love it. It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever owned. Can I ask how much it’s worth?” I asked. None of the prices were on any of the rings, and I was sure that elegant jewelry stores like his didn’t place price tags on their jewels.

“Thirty five thousand,” he replied.

I gasped.

Holy Shit….

 

I thought that I did exceptionally well at the banquet. I stayed close by Drew, and mostly only smiled when he introduced me to his acquaintances. I wouldn’t have called them friends. I was sure that Drew wasn’t capable of having a friend. Even the guy, Derik, that appeared to be his sidekick and was with him all the time, seemed to be annoyed with him more than anything.

Drew was more attentive to me that night than he ever had been. His hand constantly rested on the small of my back, and he held my hand. I was sure that it was all for show, but nonetheless it did make me feel special for a little while.

It was obvious that I was envied by the women standing around watching as Drew waltzed me across the dance floor. I was flattered when he raised his eyebrows at my flawless, elegant ballroom dancing.

I did what I was told to do. I stood by his side with my glass of wine and looked pretty.

I noticed a man in a wheelchair who constantly stared at us. He looked sick and was being escorted by a much younger lady who I was sure was his nurse or caretaker. I turned to Drew, just in case the guy could read lips.

“Drew, why does that man keep staring at me?” I asked. “Who is he?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a tone that told me that he didn’t want me to know, or it was none of my business.

I let it go, but shortly after, the man was wheeled over to us. I had never seen Drew suck up to anyone before. He was kissing this man’s ass like nothing I had ever seen.

“This is my beautiful wife, Morgan,” he said, introducing me, but failed to disclose the name of the man in the wheelchair.

He took my hand and ran his hand over my pink diamond. “I’m Randal Callaway,” he said, not letting go of my hand.

I felt uncomfortable and wondered about the name again. Our home said Callaway estates. The jewelry store said Callaway Jewels, and his name was Callaway. Maybe Drew really didn’t own any of it. Maybe he was a relative. Maybe he was just the CEO. I wished that I could ask Drew about the name, but knew that he would tell me that it didn’t concern me.

“Leave us, Drew,” the man said looking up, finally letting go of my hand.

“I’m not sure that is such a good idea, sir. Morgan isn’t used to being around this many people. She’s a little uncomfortable,” Drew responded.

“Walk away, son,” the man demanded with a stern expression. And just like a little whipped pup, Drew retreated with his tail between his legs. I was in awe that somebody could actually put the narcissistic ass in his place.

“Sit with me,” the man said, taking my hand again and leading me to an elegant set of chairs in a corner.

I sat, and he held both my hands in his. I was confused and wanted to know who he was. I didn’t ask. Drew was giving me a death stare. I wasn’t about to say anything without being asked first.

“How do you like the estate?” he asked.

“I love it there.” I replied. I did love the estate. I just wished I didn’t have to share it with Drew. I contemplated asking him why his name was on the stone wall, but I didn’t dare.

“Good. So you are happy?”

Fuck no…

“Very,” I lied.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me, Morgan.” He smiled. “Is there anything that you need?” he asked, and again I was confused as to why he cared. He acted as though he knew me or something.

“No, sir, Drew gives me more than I need,” I explained. I did have everything that I needed, minus the essential emotional care.

I mostly listened while he talked, knowing that Drew was staring daggers at me. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. Did he want me to refuse to talk to the man? I didn’t even know what his interest in me was, let alone who the hell he was. He gave me a card, explained that his cell phone number was on there, and to call him if I ever needed anything.

I thanked him, and his caretaker wheeled him away.

Drew was angry, I could tell. We left shortly after that. He tapped his foot nervously on the floorboard of the limousine.

“Did I do something wrong?” I finally asked. He turned and angrily glared at me.

“You are joking, right?” he asked.

What the fuck…?

“I thought that I did everything that you asked me to do. What did I do?” I asked, and had a feeling that it had something to do with Mr. Callaway.

“What did he say to you?” he asked with an angry tone.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Not much of anything. He admired my ring, asked me if I was happy, if I had everything that I needed, and he gave me his card, said that if I ever needed anything that I could call him anytime. Who is he, Drew?”

Drew put his hand out, and I knew that he wanted the card. I unsnapped my little handbag and handed to him. He wadded it up in his hand and tossed it to the floor. He held his hand out again, and I didn’t know what he wanted. I didn’t have anything else. Did he want me to take his hand?

“What?” I asked.

“The rings,” he said.

Fucking dick head…

I should have known that it was just for show, but a little part of me wanted to believe that he wanted me and that the rings were a symbol of that. I slid the rings from my finger, and he dropped them in his shirt pocket. He still didn’t tell me who the man was. I was still a little taken aback at how he seemed to cower to the older man.

The driver didn’t drive us home, we went to the penthouse in downtown Las Vegas. I knew that it wasn’t going to be a pleasant romantic evening. I was in for a night of hell. That was an understatement. I froze as he led me to the bedroom. The bed was draped with a red velvet cover and had black straps with soft red collars at all four posts. There was a table with different sex toys laid out, all for me.

“The next time somebody asks me to leave you alone with them, and you hear me say that I don’t think that it’s a good idea, you need to agree and ask me to stay,” he said in a low warning tone as he circled me and kissed my bare chest.

“You should have clarified that before we got there. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say. I don’t even know who the guy is,” I tried to explain and took an angry blow from the back of his hand.

“Don’t be so stupid,” he accused. “Don’t you ever talk to someone without my presence again. Do you understand, Morgan?”

“Yes, Drew,” I answered, holding my face.

“My father is none of your fucking business. Nothing I do is any of your business. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

Father?

“Yes, Drew,” I answered again. He seemed to think that I gave half an ounce about what he did. I didn’t, and I didn’t want to know him, his father, or what he did. I just wanted out of that room, because I was terrified that he was going to hurt me.

“Take your clothes off and lay on the bed,” he demanded and left the room.

The first thing I did was walk to the glass doors. I didn’t care that I was somewhere high in the sky. I would jump. It would have been better than living and being married to that monster. The doors were locked and wouldn’t budge, of course. That was my luck. I didn’t know how much time I had before he came back, so I did the only thing I could do. I undressed and lay on the bed, close to the edge with my feet crossed, trying to cover my naked body as long as he would allow it.

He returned a few minutes later with a drink in his hand. “Hmm,” he moaned, staring at my naked body. He caressed my breast and pinched my nipple.

“Do you want to be spanked first or would you rather I fuck your pussy?” he asked, gesturing his hand along the table of tools that he would use on me. The sick bastard was going to make me decide. He was going to do both, so it didn’t really matter in my book.

“Spank me,” I answered.

“You like it when I spank you, don’t you, Morgan?” he asked as he ran his fingers up my sex, sipping his drink.

Stupid, deserter, vagina.

“Answer me,” he demanded, lifting my leg so that he could get a better view.

“Yes, Drew,” I answered in a whisper.

He pulled an ice cube from his drink and held it over me. “Spread your legs. You like spreading your legs, that’s why your pussy is always so wet. Did you know that, Morgan? Did you know that you get so wet because you love the things I do to you?” he asked. I flinched a little at the ice-cold droplet of water on my clit, as I pulled both of my legs higher.

 I hated what he did, but was he right? Was that why I always got so wet? Maybe I was as sick as him.

I could feel the bed becoming wet as the water droplets ran from my clit to my opening, onto the bed. I was almost numb from the cold by the time the ice cube was gone. Drew sat his cup down, and my heart started to beat a little faster, anticipating what was about to come.

He undressed and sat on the side of the bed. He was already harder than iron, and it stood at attention when he scooted back, making room for me on his lap. He looked over at me and moved his hand, letting me know what I needed to do.

I pulled myself up and lay across his lap. I could feel his shaft on my hip as he thrust it into me a little, needing the contact. He rubbed his hand over my bottom a couple of times and moaned.

“You may be a stupid hillbilly and not good for much, but I sure am glad to have you around for this,” he said, and I grimaced at the first blow to my bare cheeks. He spanked me more and longer than he had before; I was beginning to wonder if he was ever going to stop. I could feel his welted handprints on my ass, and I didn’t think it could sting any more.

Finally, he got bored with spanking and told me to get up. He lay long ways on the bed. I stood there awkwardly waiting for his orders on what I was to do next.

“Lie down with your mouth level to my dick,” he ordered as he rolled to his side.

I did as I was told, and he put his leg over my head and guided himself into my mouth. He instructed me not to move my head and to just keep my mouth open while he fucked it. We were both lying on our sides, and I gagged more than once as he held my head down with his leg, thrusting in and out of my mouth with lustful moans. I was beginning to wonder if he was ever going to tire of invading my mouth when he finally pulled out and rolled me to my back.

“Scoot up.” He stroked himself while he waited for me to get into position. He fastened my hands to the post and then my legs, which he didn’t leave there for very long because he said that I wasn’t spread widely enough. He repositioned my legs and demanded that I not move. 

I wasn’t sure what the first object that he took from the table was. I had never seen anything like it. It was a long thin metal rod with a wired loop on the end. I watched as he turned the knob on the bottom of it and touched the small loop on his finger. He jumped when it came in contact with his finger, and he turned the knob again.

Oh, fuck.

He ran his fingers into my wet folds, and I writhed beneath his fingers, wanting release. He spread me open with his fingers, revealing as much as my swollen crux that he could. He brought the rod closer to me, and I held my breath waiting for what I knew was going to be some sort of shocking volt. He brought it to my sex in a slow, leisurely motion and held it centimeters away from my clit, wanting me to suffer the expectancy. He moved his hand over my waist and held me down with his forearm, still spreading me with his two fingers.

It was unquestionably some sort of electrical shock and the most painful yet pleasurable feeling I had ever felt. I tried to jump back, but he held my hips with his arm. I moaned and writhed beneath him. The orgasm was almost instant, and the shock brought me right to peak, and then stopped. After only three torturous contacts, I couldn’t take it, and was begging for him to let me come. He didn’t, of course, and I spent the next ten minutes being brought to ecstasy only to have it pulled away over and over again.

Drew finally placed the tool back on the table. He ran his fingers across my lips and asked me if I wanted to come.

No, I would rather you just torture me for hours.

“Yes,” I moaned.

He slapped me between my legs with several quick smacks as he stroked himself. I could have come that way too, but I knew he wouldn’t let me.

“You were a bad girl tonight. I’m not sure I should let you come, but I will,” he added, touching my lips again. He moved up and straddled my face. I didn’t try to protest, and willingly opened my mouth as he once again darted in and out of my mouth, making the most lustful sounds that he could muster. I knew he was close, and he would come rather quickly. I was right.

“Stick your tongue out, Morgan,” he rasped, frantically stroking himself on my tongue and lips. “Ah fuck yeah,” he moaned while his essence released in bouts onto my tongue and down my throat as he made sure none was wasted or spilled out, using the head of his shaft to push it back in.

“Suck me clean,” he demanded, going back into my mouth.

Once he was licked and sucked cleaned, he moved off me, and retrieved another device from the table. All I could do was watch and wonder what the hell was next. He, again, restrained my ankles and pulled my knees, strapping them to my restrained hands. He then took a black rod with straps on each end and some sort of silicone, rubbery thing right in the middle. I watched as he strapped the rod to my legs and then turned the smaller rubber rod. He adjusted the bar going from one leg to the other and explained that he had some work to do and would be back later. He turned on the object, and it did a full turn only brushing my sex once every spin.

Son of a bitch…

It didn’t hurt at all and felt incredible. It slowly slid all the way up my slippery slit, but it wouldn’t rest in one place long enough to do anything. I tried to twist into it, as it rotated, to get enough pressure to come. I had never in my life wanted anything as bad as I wanted to come at that moment. I was ready to pass out when Drew finally returned, I don’t even know how much later.

He turned off the device and removed the rod. He touched my dripping juices, massaging it into me. I noticed that he was already at half-staff again as he rubbed me. I couldn’t help but twist into his fingers, begging for release.

“Please, Drew,” I begged and was actually crying from the painful sensations in my body.

***

“Riley,” I heard my name and woke up enough to see that I was no longer with Drew, and Dawson was in my bed.

“Dawson, I need to come, please,” I begged, still panting from my nightmare with Drew.

“Ry?” he said, trying to figure out whether or not I was coherent or still back in time.

I was not with Drew, nor was I coherent. It was all still fresh and raw, and I did need sexual stimulation right that moment. I knew what I was doing. I knew that I begged him to spank me, to give it to me in the ass, and to put his dick in my mouth.

Dawson straddled my waist and held down on both of my shoulders, looking me straight in the eyes.

“I am not doing any of those things to you, Riley. You’re not that person, and I’m never going to treat you like you are. You don’t deserve that and I refuse to be that person for you.”

I had the most unbelievable orgasm of my life that night. I’m not sure whether it was because I was so sexually frustrated, or if it was the way that Dawson handled me. Dawson made slow passionate love to me, kissing me deeply, and whispering that he loved me to my lips, over and over. When I would lose myself and venture back to Drew, he would stop until I was back, right there with him. When I came, it was mind blowing, over the top, and I called out and writhed beneath him in much needed pleasure.

“Why do you put up with me?” I asked, nestled to his chest.

“Because I love you. Go to sleep,” he said to the back of my hair with a tone that I wasn’t used to hearing.

Dawson was up and sitting at the table with an almost angry expression when I woke to join him the next morning.

I poured a cup of coffee and sat with him.

“Good morning,” I said, trying to read his mood.

“I need answers, Ry,” he commanded.

“What are you talking about, Sheriff?” I asked with a smile, trying to lighten his mood.

“I’m talking about these nightmares you have. They’re either about your little brother or about sex. I want to know what happened to you. I want to know who Drew is.”

I looked down. I wasn’t going to answer either of those questions. I was too embarrassed to tell him what I had done or where I came from. I would never explain how Drew bought me to be his sex slave. I couldn’t, and if that meant it would send him running for the hills, then so be it.

“Riley, please talk to me,” he pleaded.

“I can’t, Dawson,” I said, quietly looking up to him, hoping that he understood. He didn’t. He took a deep breath and got up.

“How about you call me when you can,” he said, angrily.

“Fuck you. I have been threatened enough in my life. I am not going to be threatened by you,” I spouted off before even thinking.

He walked back to me after sliding on his shoes. “Baby, I’m not threatening you. I’m just at my wit’s end with you. Why won’t you talk to me and let me help you?”

“You can’t help me, Dawson,” I sadly said and kept my eyes down. He kissed the top of my head and retreated with a heavy sigh.

I drove to work knowing that I had to break it off with Dawson. I was never going to trust him or anyone else. I was never going to let him in as far as he wanted, and I was always going to be fucked up. There was nothing I could do about that and I didn’t want to hurt him. It was best I let him go. I hated myself as I unlocked the door to the shop, wishing I had never started anything with Dawson. Lauren and I were doing just fine without adding Dawson to the picture.

Starlight talked excitedly about Las Vegas and her friends that she couldn’t wait for me to meet. She could tell I wasn’t really there, nor was I paying much attention. My mind was on Dawson and my terrified state about going to Las Vegas. I should have just told her no. Had I ever been allowed to say no, I might have done just that. I couldn’t go there. What the hell was I thinking?

I ignored three calls from Dawson, and when he stopped by in the afternoon, I kept busy with a couple who was looking at the aromatherapy oils, explaining the difference. Dawson was on duty and couldn’t hang around, waiting on me.

He texted a while later and asked me if I wasn’t speaking to him. I texted him back and told him honestly that no, I was not talking and wanted to end things with him. I thanked him for being so patient with me and explained that I didn’t expect him to hang around waiting for me to miraculously be normal. I told him that it wasn’t going to happen and that he should move on. He texted right back.

Don’t you dare do this, Ry. I love you. I’m not going anywhere.

Dawson, just stop. I don’t want you. Please understand that.

I shut my phone off and poured myself a cup of coffee.

“Get out of here,” Starlight said as I stared off into space.

“Excuse me?” I asked, not sure I heard her correctly.

“Your mind has been somewhere else all day. Go home and relax. I can handle things here,” she said and didn’t give me time to object. She held my elbow and walked me toward the back.

I didn’t object. My mind was somewhere else, and it was in Las Vegas. I didn’t want to go there, at all.

As I drove out of the back alley and onto the road, I saw Dawson in his police cruiser through my rearview mirror. He was riding close behind and flashed his headlights at me. I knew he wanted me to pull over, but I didn’t. I knew he wouldn’t follow me all the way home; however, the chances of him showing up at my door once his shift was over were pretty high. He turned on his red and blue lights. Unbelievable. I blew out a puff of air.

I still ignored him and when I didn’t pull over, he turned on the siren. I ignored that too and turned down the road toward my house. He pulled up beside me on the narrow road with lights and siren, waving me to pull over.

“What? Are you going to give me a ticket?” I asked my rearview mirror.

I finally decided that I should abide by the law and pulled over, angry that he was stopping me for no reason other than I wasn’t talking to him. It pissed me off that he was using his authority to control me. I had dealt with enough of that in my life, and I’d be damned if I was going to deal with it from him.

I didn’t even roll down my window. I opened the door and got out. I wasn’t about to be compliant with him.

Before I could even speak, he slammed his car door and pointed back to his car.

“That is a goddamned police car. I’m a goddamn police officer. IF I INSTRUCT YOU TO STOP, YOU’D BETTER DAMN WELL PULL OVER,” he yelled.

I yelled right back. “FINE. If you’re going to pull me over, you better have a goddamn reason to do so.”

“You’re not pushing me away, Ry,” he demanded.

I crossed my arms and snorted.

“Please, don’t push me away,” he calmed and ran both hands down my crossed arms.

“Dawson, what’s wrong with you? You don’t want me,” I assured him.

“I do want you, Riley. You don’t want me to want you.”

“Why? I think you have seen enough to know how fucked I am.”

“I don’t think you’re fucked up at all. I think you have been through something horrific, and I would do anything to make it better for you.”

“Why? I don’t understand you. You’re very good looking, funny, caring, and compassionate. You can have any girl you want. Why me?”

“I don’t want any girl, Ry. I want you. Why is that so hard for you to understand?”

“Do you like being awakened two and three times a night by my stupid hang-ups? Dawson, I was practically begging you to do sick perverted things to me last night. Don’t you find that a little disturbing?”

“I find it a lot disturbing, and it breaks my heart because I know that somebody did those things to you, and you won’t talk to me about it.”

“I can’t, Dawson. I relive it enough. I don’t want you to know that part of me.”

“Ry, I hear things that you say. I see you crying in your sleep. I know you were abused. I know you are hiding from someone named Drew. Don’t you think that I could understand it a little better if you would talk to me?”

I didn’t know what to say. I had given the man every opportunity in the world to run and run as fast as he could, but he wasn’t running. He was there as he had been since the day I met him.

“I’m afraid to, Dawson.”

He looked at his watch and kissed me. I have two more hours. I’m going to bring supper over, and you and I are going to talk about Drew,” he demanded.

“Dawson—”

He cut me off with a kiss. “Get out of here before I write you a ticket,” he teased and kissed me again.

I called Lauren and woke her from her afternoon nap. She woke me all the time, so I didn’t care. She came over, and I wanted her to stick around. I didn’t want to be alone with Dawson, although I knew that she would leave, and I would eventually be forced to talk to him. She stayed and ate the fried chicken that Dawson brought and then yawned around eight, saying she was going to bed because she was tired after getting her belly full.

I cleaned up while Dawson stared, waiting for me to start. I didn’t start anything. I didn’t even know what to say to him.

“Talk to me, Ry,” he finally said.

I gave him a warm smile and took a deep breath. “Can I take a bath first?”

“Yes, but we are having this conversation,” he assured me.

I filled the tub with an extremely hot water. Sinking into the suds, I closed my eyes, wondering what the hell I was supposed to say to him. I opened them when he dropped the lid on the toilet and joined me.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not comfortable talking about,” he began. “I will ask the questions, and all you have to do is answer, okay?” he asked.

Oh boy. Here we go…

I nodded.

“Who is Drew?” was the first question.

“My husband,” I answered.

“Your ex-husband?”

I shook my head.

“You’re still married, Ry?” he asked, shocked.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

He stood up and ran his hands through his short hair.

“Why didn’t you tell me? You said you were divorced.”

“I would be if it were possible. Riley Murphy isn’t married. Morgan is married,” I replied, omitting the last name.

“Ry, you can’t just run away and change your name. That doesn’t make you not married.”

I knew this was a crummy idea. I knew he wouldn’t understand. I stood up and dried off. He stepped out too. We went to bed, and both sat up under the covers while our conversation continued.

“Why did you marry him, Ry?” Dawson continued with his investigation.

“I’m not sure how much I should tell you, Dawson,” I admitted.

“Tell me everything,” he required.

I took a deep breath and he reached for my hand. I snuggled up in his arm. It was easier for me to talk to him without looking at him.

“I didn’t want to marry him. I didn’t even know him. He paid my father thirty thousand dollars for me. He came to our trailer on my eighteenth birthday to claim me. He is a very rich, powerful man.”

Dawson abruptly moved from the bed and paced the bedroom floor. I only watched while he regained his composure.

“He bought you?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yes.”

“Ry, that is as illegal as you can get. I will have that bastard incarcerated so fast his head will spin.”

“Dawson. No. You can’t do that. Promise me you won’t go anywhere near him let alone try anything at all. You don’t know what you’re dealing with. He will come for me.”

“You can’t hide, looking over your shoulder your entire life.”

Oh yes, I can…

He sat back down and pulled me back to him, not wanting me to shut down and stop talking.

“Keep talking,” he said and kissed my fingertips.

“I can’t. You keep asking the questions. It’s easier that way.”

“I need to know what he did to you, Ry. Did he hit you?”

“Yes, often,” I admitted.

“Why?”

“Because he’s crazy, I don’t know why. I tried to be whom he wanted me to be, but he always found something to punish me for. He got off on it.”

“He hit you to punish you?”

“No, he usually only did that when I mouthed off something that he didn’t like.”

“How did he punish you?” Dawson asked, and I knew that he already knew the answer to his question and just needed to hear it from me.

“He used sex to punish me or so he said. He did it because he’s a sick bastard who got off on it.”

“What did he do, Ry?”

“Dawson, you really don’t want the details. He did everything imaginable; unimaginable would be a better term,” I decided.

“I need to know, Riley. Just think about one time that he punished you. Why were you being punished? Walk me through it. Help me understand.”

I took a deep breath and thought about it. Maybe if I told him he would finally realize that I was too broken to fix. I contemplated a time that I had been punished. I had no idea it was going to be so real for me to talk about it. The dreams were part of my subconscious. It was inevitable for them to be so real. Talking about it wide awake was a different story altogether.

“One afternoon when he was home, he was in his office, and I wanted to ask him if I could go somewhere.”

“You had to ask permission to go somewhere?” he asked, running his finger up and down my arm.

“Yes. When I was growing up, I used to go to the local library for some solace, especially after they took Justin away. I tapped on his door, and he told me to come in. I was afraid to interrupt him because I wasn’t allowed in his office.”

“Drew, I was wondering if it would be okay if I went to the library here,” I asked.

“Why?” he asked annoyed.

“I like to read, and I like spending time in the library,” I answered.

“No. Not yet. I will let you know when you deserve that privilege.”

“He dismissed me, and I left disappointed. I lived in an eight thousand square foot house, and had plenty to do, but I just needed out,” I explained.

Dawson didn’t speak and continued to listen.