Wren

I SPENT SUNDAY IN BED. I mean that literally. Flint insisted on bringing me food and water, and I had no other reason to leave his bedroom. Then yesterday we enjoyed each other’s company, he showed me his land, walked me through his woods, and we made slow, beautiful love in a clearing under the canopy of trees. In the afternoon as I watched him tenderly cleaning and sharpening his ax, I gained a new appreciation for the care and dedication within this special man’s heart.

In these couple of short days, I’ve become accustomed to the morning sounds here, too. As I lounge in bed, I throw my forearm over my eyes and enjoy the blissful soreness that never seems to leave my body.

My muscles ache brilliantly. Flint has become rougher with me, but much to my surprise, I’ve never felt so alive and safe as when he inflicts his bits of pain and control over me.

Last night, he stripped me after dinner with the knife in his pocket, hand over my mouth, then tied my arms behind me with such quick precision, I was still processing what was happening when he lifted me and threw me over his shoulder. He gave my bare ass a firm smack as he carried me to the couch and took two hours showing me the pleasure of being completely at his mercy.

The duality of him is part of what I’ve fallen for. After using me and claiming me without reservation as his to do with as he pleased, he carried me like an infant against his chest into the bathroom where he drew a warm bath. Then he spent an hour soothing me with some of the sweetest words I’ve ever heard and washing me gently until I dozed off, lying back against his chest.

The birds outside are chirping now, and along with that sound, I hear the rhythmic crack of Flint’s ax hitting wood, interspersed with gusts of wind that rustle the leaves on the acres of trees that surround the cabin.

I draw a deep breath, feeling it fill my chest, then look down at myself. My body is splashed with pink and purple marks from his teeth and his hands. My belly flutters at the sight, knowing he put them there and knowing that the reason he put them there is because I belong to him. And I understand how much that last part means to him.

I belong to him.

Words I never thought I would utter, let alone find so intoxicating and perfect, but it’s true nonetheless.

I love him.

More words I never thought I’d utter. Well, at least this soon after meeting someone. But there is no denying this new emotion he’s brought about inside me. It’s as real as anything else I’ve ever felt; it’s just new.

My mom and dad had this. They told me their story many times. It was simple but sweet. Dad saw Mom for the first time at a communal farm where everyone worked and got a part of the harvest. She was only eighteen at the time, and he was ten years her senior.

She was picking green beans. He said he remembered that moment for the rest of his life. He knew then and there they were meant to be together, and that’s what happened. Even hearing their story all those years, love at first sight seemed like a fantasy. That is until it happened to me.

Last night, when Flint fucked me right to the edge of release then held me there, he told me exactly what I already knew.

I’m his in ways I didn’t understand before him. But his words still ring in my ears this morning.

This cunt. This heart. Those tits. All of you, Wren. It’s mine. I hope you understand that, because it’s never going to change. Now, you want to come? If you do, tell me who you belong to, then you can come.

And come I did after I told him what he wanted to hear. What I wanted to say.

I slip out of bed. My feet glide along the smooth wooden floorboards as I pad to the kitchen to replace the now cold cup of coffee Flint left for me on my nightstand before he ventured outside for his morning work.

I dump the cold coffee into the sink and refill my cup, leaning back on the counter and watching him through the wide expanse of window over the sink.

He’s shirtless. Body shining in the sun and drawing an immediate visceral reaction from me. Desire floods over me at a mere glance. I’ve never had this reaction to someone before, and its power is frightening. The draw I feel for this man, after knowing him such a short time, is as real as the nose on my face. But I wonder sometimes if I’m not putting myself in a precarious position with such strong emotions. All this is something I’m not accustomed to, and I can see how deeply hurt I could be by him if he chose.

Hercules lazes in the morning sun off to the edge of where Flint chops.

I shake off the thought as he swings the ax over his head. The sun catches on the very same blade I’ve watched him clean and sharpen with the care a parent would show a child. The tendons and muscles in his chest and arms go taut, pulling the skin tight, and he makes a solid connection with the log, snapping it in half with a crack like thunder.

The parts fall to the ground, joining the others that pile next to the stump where he primes each one. He pauses to draw his forearm over his brow, then tosses the ax into the air, grabbing it on the way down with his other hand just behind the blade. As he squints into the sun, taking a heaving breath, he lowers his other arm to hang down at his side.

We’ve fallen into a comfortable routine even in a couple days. I feel so right here, so comfortable, and yet that nagging voice in the back of my head keeps picking at me. Telling me it’s too good to be true. That he is too good to be true, and at any moment, it’s all going to go up in flames.

The conflict is a struggle, but I decide not to ruin the last of our morning before Flint drives me to the salon. I reach into the cabinet and pour him a fresh cup of coffee, then make my way to the back door where I step out barefoot and wearing what has become my favorite uniform—one of his flannel shirts from the night before.

His scent lingers, and I know how much he loves seeing me in them.

Outside the back door, he turns and his eyes light up. There is nothing like that feeling. It’s not something faked; when he sees me, his entire countenance changes, and I feel so blessed in that moment to see the effect I have on someone who has the exact same effect on me.

“Morning.” I tiptoe over the wood-chipped path to where his log-splitting activities start each morning.

“Hello there, gorgeous.” He leans down, giving me a peck on my lips, and takes the coffee from my offering hands. “Thank you.”

“We have about an hour until it’s time to go.”

I’m surprised by how little I’ve missed my cell phone out here as well. Flint has no service for my carrier, and it’s not been a thought in my mind until now. But knowing I’m about to be heading back into town, and right back into the problems I’ve put off thinking about for three days, has me wondering what calls or messages I’ve missed.

The salon is behind on the utilities and the rent. I have the landlord on my case, and I know it’s serious. Lying to Flint about the issues with the salon is something I’ll need to come clean about at some point, but I’m still holding out hope that some sort of miracle will happen in the next few days.

“I’ll be right in. Plan is I’ll drop you, come back around three. Want to be sure you deal with the rent and then a plan to get your license figured out. That shit can’t go on, Chirp. Not on my watch. But I know the salon is your baby, so that has to come first to get the week off right. I’ve got that envelope from your landlord. If you want, I can go take care of that for you.”

“No,” I snap, a bit too quickly, and try to recover by running a hand down his beard. “I will call him when I get to town and set up the transfer of the funds. Handled. No issue.”

I hate lying to Flint, but I’m also embarrassed about the financial situation. Hell, a few days ago when I was talking to Sabrina, there was a part of me that was ready to throw in the towel and let her step in. Pay off the debts, tuck my tail between my legs, and head back to Charlotte and the Stepford life.

Then, in walked Flint Rendell, and now I have no idea what to do. If I don’t go back with Sabrina, no way she will help me out financially. There are always strings attached to any dollar bills in her mind. That’s what makes her an up-and-coming politician I suppose. That “let’s make a deal” attitude.

“Okay,” he says finally. “Why don’t you get the shower started? I’ll meet you in there in a minute. Going to finish up this last log, then I’m going to finish up on you.”

He winks as I turn to head inside. My core tightens, and the thump in my chest is already rising.

AS SOON AS WE HIT THE edge of Flint’s property, my cell phone starts dinging in my purse as it sits at my feet in Flint’s truck. We were talking about tonight; he insisted I come back to his place, and also, Hercules has settled in there.

The dog has never been so nice to anyone as he is to Flint, and he loves being outside in the woods. It felt right, and deep inside, I’m secretly happy I will be back there tonight.

My stomach tightens at the sound of my phone notifications, but I decide not to ruin the drive in case it’s something less than pleasant. Being so out of touch for a few days felt great until now. The real world is calling, and there are more than a few unpleasant issues in my life waiting for my attention.

I swallow hard, remembering the half-truths I told Flint about my rent and the salon, but I figure I’ve always managed to get myself out of pickles before. I just hope I can do the same with these before he finds out.

“Hey.” Flint squeezes my hand that he’s been holding since we pulled down the driveway. “You okay, baby? You look tired still.”

“I’m fine. You have to admit, you took a lot out of me the last few days.” I giggle and shift in my seat, reminded with every movement just how often he’s been inside me since we arrived at the cabin.

“Then I have to figure out how to take better care of you.”

“Please, you’ve practically spoon- and bottle-fed me for days, making sure I get enough nutrients and hydration.” I look over to see him looking back with a concerned stare. “Really, I’m fine. I’m just still waking up.”

I reach over to pick up the cup of coffee he set into the cupholder for me before we left.

We ride the rest of the way to town in comfortable silence. He’s still the sexiest man I’ve ever met. Just sitting in the truck watching him drive has butterflies taking flight inside my stomach.

AS HE TURNS THE TRUCK at the last corner and then into the parking lot behind the salon, my heart is in my throat. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know who is in the black stretch limousine sitting at the back door of the salon. I struggle to swallow and turn to Flint.

“This may be a more interesting morning than I intended.”

I gently pull my hand from his, reach down into my purse, and pull out my phone to see the screen of delayed notifications. Texts from Sabrina, asking where I am. Telling me she’s on her way. Which, clearly, in hindsight, would have been good information to have.

Flint parks the truck, leans back, and looks over at me. “Who is that?”

“You ready to meet the family?” I ask, trying to force some cheerfulness into my voice. Sabrina coming here is not just for a friendly visit. Our conversations over the last couple weeks and her need to control my life should have been a clue that when I told her not to come, she would anyway.

Flint hops out of his side of the truck and walks around the front to my door, pulling it open and offering me his hand. As I get down, the limo driver is already at the back door of the sleek black Lincoln, and a moment later, I see Sabrina’s perfectly hair-sprayed, right-wing hair, and navy blue suit emerge.

She’s wearing her best practiced smile, but I know her well enough to see she’s not happy.

“Where have you been, little sister?” She walks over and gives me a shallow hug.

Part of me is happy to see her, I have to admit. She’s the only family I have left, after all. But a big part of me knows there are going to be a few less-than-pleasant conversations coming when she tries to start taking over. That is just her way, but it sure as hell is infuriating.

“Uh...” I stammer as Flint comes up from behind me, extending his hand and stepping right into Sabrina’s personal space, which has her backing up and her security guard stepping forward.

“She’s been with me. I’m Flint Rendell. And you are?” He eyes the hulk of a man in a black suit and sunglasses, then looks back at Sabrina as she swallows then turns to wave off her hired muscle.

“I’m Sabrina Bowen. Congresswoman Bowen. I’m sure Wren has mentioned me.” Sabrina’s ego takes point as she shakes Flint’s hand, then tips her head to the side to give him a slow look up and down.

“Yep,” he answers, then turns to me. “You okay, baby?”

I look to see Sabrina raise her eyebrows.

“Yes. I’m fine. Go on to work. Sabrina likes surprise visits.” I glare at my half sister, who gives me a slight shoulder shrug.

Flint takes my face in his hands and stares into my eyes, searching for a long moment before he kisses me hard and firm. His tongue dances on my bottom lip before he pulls back and takes a long breath. The sun streams from the tree line behind the parking lot, creating a glow around him and causing me to squint as I look up.

“I’ll be back at three.” He leaves no room for argument. 

He turns, reaches into the truck to retrieve a sleepy Hercules. He hands him to me then gives Sabrina a gruff goodbye and pulls his truck out of the lot. Sabrina climbs into the back of the limo and is straight on her phone with her laptop, apparently ignoring me. Like I said, she can be infuriating. I turn on my heel and walk to open the back door of the salon, unable to muster much sisterly love at the moment.

I get inside, put Hercules down and he immediately runs to settle on his bed. I turn on the lights and music and look around at what I thought would be the start of my new life. My stomach sinks when I see the envelope taped to the glass front door. I quickly make my way to unlock it and pull the notice down.

I know what it is and who it’s from, so I fold it in half and stick it in the back pocket of my jeans. As I turn, I see Sabrina coming in the back door, followed by her black suit, who stalls and stands like a sentry a few feet from where they entered.

“So.” Sabrina’s condescending tone only makes me want to turn and stomp right out the front door like a petulant teenager. “There is something you need to know, little sister.”

“Sabrina.” I lean against the reception desk as she takes a seat in one of the spinning chairs and turns to face me. “I told you I’m still working things out. I’m not ready to give up and come home, not just yet. I told you that last week.”

“Yes. You did. Then I had a call from...um...” She turns to her goon.

“Lucas Dillon, ma’am.”

“Yes, Lucas Dillon.” She pauses, as if that name should mean something to me. It doesn’t, so I just stare right back. “Well, anyway, I found out you are already in the eviction process on your house, Wren.” Her voice softens and takes on its mother-knows-best tone. “And, now there’s more.”

“More what?” I kick at an invisible rock on the floor, knowing whatever she’s about to say won’t make my day any better.

“Well, two things. First, did you know someone has cameras at your house and a tracker on your car?”

I look at her like she’s grown a second head and squint one eye. “Uh, no.”

“Well, there are four cameras trained on your house. Two looking directly into windows. And your car has a tracker that is fairly sophisticated. Tracks your location, your speed...”

My heart is pounding. “That can’t be true. Who would do that? Are you sure?”

She licks the perfect shade of pink lipstick on her bottom lip. “I’m sure. And...well...I’m also now pretty sure who put them there. And, with my security clearance, I just did a quick background search on the person I’m sure is responsible for it all.”

“Who?” I look out the front windows of the salon, suddenly feeling very exposed. Are they watching me here too? For what purpose?

“Wren.” Sabrina cocks her head to the side. “How long have you known Flint Rendell? You know he has a felony record as well?”

My stomach drops, and I have no words. “He...” I hesitate. “He was taken in on an assault charge, but he was just protecting me. That was my fault, Sabrina.”

She shakes her head. “Oh, Wren, you don’t know any of it, do you, sweetie?”

Suddenly, my memory of that day comes back. I remember him saying he followed me... He followed me. How long had he already been following me? Did I just hook up with my stalker?

“Wren,” Sabrina snaps.

“What?” I return as she stands to come over and put her hands on my shoulders.

“We need to talk.”