There were times when I could kick my own ass. Telling Slade I wasn’t the right one for him had been the stupidest mistake of my life.

I’d tested him.

He failed.

He’d taken the path I’d so clearly paved as an out for him all the way to Montana.

Every day, I ached for him to return. And with every day that passed that he didn’t even call, I cursed his name for walking away.

I had to stop torturing myself.

I had to move on.

He’d been gone for five months. Five damn months… and not once had he reached out to me. Not once. It hurt. It hurt so bad I wanted to curl up and die from it, but I refused to give in. That he’d left so easily proved my point about love. The right one wouldn’t up and leave you. They’d fight for you. Slade hadn’t done that. Instead, he’d taken my excuses and ran with them. Could I fault him for it?

Yes.

No.

We should have never let a physical relationship come between us. Should have never used each other, as brief as it was, to hold on to something that was clearly disappearing right before our eyes. But what I missed the most was his friendship. His steadfastness. Him.

As time when on, every second of every day seemed to get a little easier. I’d never truly get over how Slade had just up and walked away. I’d never be able to think back on it and not want to crawl into a corner, or maybe even turn back time. No matter how much I wished I could, life kept moving, pushing me along with it like a bobber tied to a fishing line.

Clint took me fishing a couple of times, but that ended one day when I caught a bigger fish than him and did a celebratory dance like I’d always done with Slade. Clint had sneered at me, telling me to grow up and stop acting like a child.

It only got worse—his attitude and the way he treated me. Like all the newness had worn off and his tarnished true colors shined through.

It was a hell of my own making. And partly Slade’s too. Had he stuck around, I never would have given Clint the time of day.

I should have known better after the first time Clint lost his temper with me. But there was no rewind button on life. No point in which we could set ourselves back to the trigger point when all the signs were there. No ability to blink and erase it to start back over. If there had been, I would have thrown Clint out of my house and told Lex to keep him away from me.

Something broke inside me after Slade left. Made me go through stages of grief as if he’d died. Disbelief, anger, and then sadness. So much sadness. I’d moped for days. Cried myself to sleep. I’d cursed his name, and then cursed my stupidity. But then one day I woke up, feeling nothing but emptiness. That was when Clint swept in. When I really lost myself. It had been the moment when I realized that nothing would change. Slade wasn’t coming back. Hell, he couldn’t even be bothered to pick up the phone and call.

“Are you planning on staring out the window all night, or are you going to make dinner?” Clint asked, startling me.

Shit. I’d lost track of time. “No, I was just about to start it.”

“It should have already been in the oven,” he sneered as I pushed myself away from the window with an inward sigh.

“What the hell is that in your hand?” He lurched forward, ripping the strip of fair photos Slade had kept tucked into the corner of his mirror.

My hand shot out to grab it from him, but he slapped it away. “I was cleaning and found it.”

It was a complete lie. I’d taken it from Slade’s house and tucked it into one of the books on my bookshelf when Clint decided he liked sleeping at my house better than he did Slade’s old one.

“What the fuck is this?” His cheeks flushed as he took a step toward me, waving the picture in my face.

I moved back a step as he grabbed high on my arm, fingers digging into muscle deep enough I cried out. “Let me go, Clint.”

He dropped the picture on the floor and grabbed my other arm. Holding me tight with both hands, he shook me hard enough to rattle my teeth. “I don’t take orders from you, bitch. It’s best you remember that.”

He shoved me back so hard I scrambled to stay upright. Anger made me want to lash out at him, but I knew better. Clint was an abusive man and wasn’t above decking me to get his point across. But what Clint didn’t understand was I wasn’t going to be the meek and timid little girl who would put up with his shit any longer.

“Get. Out,” I said, tipping my chin up as I pointed to the door.

He laughed.

“I’m not kidding. Get out of my house and don’t come back.” I forced myself to walk past him, heading to the front door with the intention of opening it and then closing it firmly behind him.

What I hadn’t expected, but should have, was how he’d react to that. Before I could get past the reach of his arms, his hand snaked out and snatched me backward by my ponytail, swinging me into the living room wall. My head hit it with a sickening smack before I could get my arm up.

Clint’s hand shot out, wrapping around my throat as I slid down the wall. The pressure on my neck cut off my air as he used his hold to haul me up to my feet.

I yanked on his arm with one hand and tried to pry his fingers loose with the other, but his grip was firm as he stared into my eyes. “Here’s the way it’s gonna be. You do as I say, not the other way around. I’m not leaving. You are mine, and you’ll be mine until I decide otherwise.” His fingers squeezed tighter. “Do you understand?”

I couldn’t cry out. Couldn’t breathe. Something told me Clint was just crazy enough to keep squeezing until I blacked out from lack of oxygen. It hurt like hell to move, but I nodded my head, hoping he’d let go.

The pressure eased, but not all at once. It seemed like he got some sort of sick pleasure out of holding my life in his hands. As soon as he let my neck go, I doubled over, gasping for air.

He left me there on the floor and went into the kitchen. The refrigerator door opened and closed, followed by the sound of a beer cracking open before Clint walked past me, plopped his ass on the couch, and picked up the TV remote.

Lucy whined at the back door, pawing at it when I didn’t let her right in.

Clint pushed from the couch, beating me to the door. Lucy shot past him, whining as she bumped me with her nose and paws. She knew something wasn’t right, and she wasn’t going to settle until I assured her it was okay.

I knelt, putting my hand out and scratching her behind the ears, unable to talk past the throbbing in my throat. When I tried to speak, it came out as a croak that left me coughing and gasping with each contraction of muscle in my neck.

Lucy danced in agitation as I bent my head. Wiping my eyes, I tried to swallow past the pain. Her body turned to push against my arms as if offering me a place to lay my head. Offering me something to hold onto.

I didn’t see it coming. Couldn’t have stopped it even if I did. Lucy’s body slammed into mine, and we both went over. Her yelp pierced my ears. Her cry tore at something primitive in me. I came up from the floor and lunged over Lucy. The poor dog panted as she tried to struggle to her feet, which only made my blood boil more. Running at Clint full tilt, I used my shoulder to take him down.

We rolled along the living room floor, both trying to get the upper hand. My fist shot out, punching him wherever I could, but he was stronger, faster. He caught my arm in his, bringing his open hand across my face. My head snapped to the side, ears ringing as he stood up and towered over me.

I rolled, curling into a tight ball, arms over my head to protect it, but it left my side open to several kicks. There was no where I could go to get away from him. Nothing I could do to stop the madness that had taken hold of him when he forced me onto my back and climbed on top of me. One hand covered my mouth as the other clamped down on my neck.

His hot, yeast-scented breath shot up my nose as he brought his face close to mine. “Do you like being punished, Gracen? Is this what you want?” He shoved one of his knees between my legs, forcing them apart. Settling himself between my thighs, he ground his erection against me. “Because now you’re gonna get it. And so help me, if you fight it, it will only get worse.”

Black dots swarmed around me, dotting my eyes. A sort of humming in my ears started. I couldn’t get a full breath. Couldn’t summon enough strength to crawl more than a few feet away when he let go of me long enough to yank his belt free from his jeans.

He grabbed my ankles and pulled me back in one swift jerk. I twisted, using the last of my energy to roll away. If I could just get to my feet, I’d run out the door and scream as loud as I could. Someone would hear me. Someone would stop him.

He backhanded me again. The taste of blood flooded my mouth and ran down my throat, choking me as he brought both sides of the leather belt together with a loud crack, laughing when I flinched.

I tried covering my face and turning my body away so that each stroke he lashed out with would catch my back. It pissed him off. I could hear the heavy buckle jingle as he shook it next to my face. I didn’t have to see what was coming. I felt it in the air. It whistled as the belt buckle came down across the back of my head.

Blackness, like the kind only found at the bottom of a well, welcomed me as I heard a series of sharp yips followed by a low growl. I tumbled into an abyss I could only hope I met Lucy in.