CHAPTER 10
Hannah
I sip coffee from my travel thermos as I drive to Nelson’s house to pick up Hope for the weekend.
I’m utterly exhausted from last night at The Wicked Horse with Asher. We left at a reasonable time, but my body was well-used and the adrenaline rush of what we’d done had sapped my strength.
Asher took his time with me while I was locked in the stocks, and the experience was electrifying.
It was equal parts degrading and uplifting.
I’ve never come so many times or as hard before in my life.
From the moment he ordered me to me stand in front of the glass wall and masturbate for a crowd of strangers, I knew my sex life had been irrevocably changed because I got a rush out of what he made me do.
There was an absolute liberation in obeying his order, knowing that but for his command I wouldn’t have done it at all. True… I could have said ‘no’. He’s made that clear often enough.
But it’s also true I enjoy my time with Asher. He’s awakened a wicked streak I never knew existed within me. I’ve run on auto pilot for so long, struggling to make it through a day working back-breaking jobs, all for just a few peaceful hours with my daughter on the weekend, that I had forgotten what it was like to experience pleasure. I’d forgotten what it was like to do something satisfying purely for myself, and that is not something I expected to get out of the deal I made with the devil named Asher Knight.
He rode me hard from behind while I was in the stocks, but not before he had me give him a blow job in front of the voyeuristic crowd watching us. With my head held tight in place by the stocks, he fucked my mouth without restraint, pulling away before he came on my tongue. He then moved behind me, driving in hard and deep.
My only regret from that experience was I couldn’t see his face that first time he entered me without a condom on. He let out a harsh grunt of satisfaction when he sank inside of me—a sound that made my toes curl because it sounded like nothing had ever felt better to him.
I know it felt amazing to me, which was why I was surprised when he pulled out just before he orgasmed and came all over my back instead. It threw me off for a moment, since he is the one who wanted to do away with the condoms. I expected the greater intimacy would have been to come inside me, but when he was done, he said something that caused my skin to prickle.
He said, “I’ve marked you. Now everyone in here knows your mine.”
His voice was low, and he wasn’t speaking to me. He was murmuring to himself, and I’m not even sure he knew he said it out loud.
After, when he’d cleaned me off and released me, he was as distant as he usually is. Asher knows how to put a wall up fast, and I expect he’s got emotional intimacy issues, which is absolutely none of my business.
But then he did something odd.
He insisted on driving me home rather than packing me off into an Uber. Even though I’d bought a little used Honda Accord earlier that day, I chose not to drive just in case I had a few drinks at the club to help loosen me up. Socializing with a glass of wine wasn’t on Asher’s agenda, though, as he took me straight to The Silo and the stocks.
Asher didn’t talk much on the way to my house, and he made no comment about the crummy neighborhood I lived in, nor did he walk me to the door like a gentleman would after a date.
But he did sit out in front of my house, not leaving until after I’d shut and locked the door behind me.
I didn’t know what to make of it, and I don’t want to make anything of it. That was then, and this is now.
It’s Saturday morning, which means I get Hope until midday on Sunday.
Despite my lack of sleep, I’m completely energized about seeing my daughter. Last weekend, Nelson let her attend a camping trip which took away one of my designated days with her. While I never would have denied her the opportunity to go if she’d asked me, I was still blaming Nelson for my loss. I think that’s because I know he relished in the pain it caused me, but today is a fresh start.
Nelson has no idea I’m going to fight him for Hope. Now—thanks to Asher and his unique offer of employment—I’m going to have the financial means necessary to get my daughter back.
When I pull into Nelson’s driveway, I’m surprised to see Amelia waiting on the front porch with Hope, who has a pink, sequined book bag on her back and a white stuffed unicorn with a rainbow mane clutched in her arms. She and Amelia are sitting side by side on the top step, but I barely have the car in park before Hope is shooting off the porch. By the time I exit my car, my daughter is there and throwing her little body into my arms.
“Hey, Monkey,” I say with an unbidden quaver to my voice. I hug her hard while she presses her face into my stomach. At five and a half years old, she likes to show me what a big, independent girl she’s become, so when she lets down those defenses and melts into me, it absolutely overwhelms my emotions. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” It comes out muffled with her face still pressed into my middle. When she squeezes me harder, I notice Amelia has joined us in the driveway.
I give her a polite smile because out of the string of women Nelson has dated since we divorced over a year ago, she’s actually the nicest of them. She seems to genuinely like Hope and makes an effort with her, although I’d prefer Nelson not have his girlfriends around as much. It’s confusing to Hope that he runs through them so quickly.
Just as I know it’s still confusing to her that she must live with her dad and only gets to see me on the weekend. Every time we’re together, it kills me when she begs to move in with me full time. It’s absolutely soul crushing when I have to tell her it’s not possible.
At her age, she doesn’t understand the politics of bitter divorces and she has no clue that money can indeed buy almost everything. It was certainly my lack of money that caused me to lose her. How can I explain to a child that justice can be bought?
“Nelson had to run some errands this morning,” Amelia offers, I guess in case I’m insanely curious as to where my ex-husband is.
I’m not. I’m actually relieved he’s not here as every time we see each other, it’s a confrontation. So instead, I brighten my smile. “No worries. Thanks for waiting with Hope.”
“Sure,” she says genially. There’s even a little bit of relief in her voice that I’m being nice to her. I bet Nelson has fed her full of a bunch of lies about what a miserable bitch I am, but whatever. She gives a playful tug on Hope’s ponytail. “Bye, Hope.”
“Bye,” she replies, not even bothering to look at her. She instead tips her head back, clearly over the moon to see her mother, and it overwhelms me with gratitude.
“Let’s go,” I murmur as I ruffle her hair and open the driver’s door. She hops in, scrambles over the console, and settles into her car seat in the back. She’s big enough to put the seat belt on herself.
“Why do you have a new car, Mommy?” she asks as she starts to buckle herself in.
I’m not about to tell her about my money woes, so I grin. “I liked this snazzy red color. Makes me feel sassy when I drive it.”
Hope giggles, accepting my reasoning.
When I see she’s securely fastened in, I sit in the driver’s seat and close the door. I glance at Hope in the rearview mirror as I put my own seat belt on and start the car. “What do you want to do today? The sky is the limit for you. We can go clothes shopping, or to a fancy lunch, or even bowling. Whatever you want today, we’re doing it.”
Hope’s face scrunches with concern. “But how?”
“How?” I ask as I twist in my seat so I can see her. “What do you mean?”
“Daddy says you’re poor, and you don’t have the money to take care of me,” she replies with all the innocence of a child who doesn’t understand those are bruising words to me.
Not that I’m poor or that my daughter knows it, but that her father would demean me to her that way. She doesn’t have to say it to me, but I bet her father has also made sure she realizes she can’t live with me because money is an issue. He’s already teaching her that he’s a better parent because he has money and I don’t.
Gritting my teeth, I try to keep my voice neutral. I refuse to talk badly about her father, no matter the provocation, but I also gently correct her incorrect perception as best I can. “That’s not quite true, honey. I don’t have as much money as Daddy, but I have the ability to take care of you.”
Hope tilts her head. “Then why don’t you? Why do I have to live with Daddy? I want to live with you.”
My chest constricts, and it feels like I might die as the pain in my heart is so awful. Blinking back tears, I give Hope as confident a smile as I can muster. “I know it’s hard to understand, but it’s not just up to me. If it were my choice, you would live with me every day for the rest of your life, any future husband you might acquire be damned. He’d have to get used to having his mother-in-law in residence.”
Hope’s expression turns confused, so I reach back and pat her on her leg. “I want you to live with me, and I’m going to work hard to make that happen, okay?”
She nods and grins. “Okay.”
“Until I can make that happen, I want you to know that I love you more than anything in this world and I will always be there for you, whether you’re at my house or Daddy’s house, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Now… what do you want to do today?” I ask.
She ponders a moment, letting her gaze drift up to the car ceiling before grinning at me with a twinkle in her eye that I don’t often see.
“Can we just hang out at your house?” she asks. “Maybe bake some cookies, make a fort in the living room, and watch movies. We can wear our pajamas and have a junk day.”
Junk day.
My favorite tradition with Hope. It’s where we eat the worst of all junk foods and lounge around like bums, which includes watching movies, doing crafts, or even just talking about silly things like which Paw Patrol pup we’d want with us if we were stuck on a deserted island.
I say Chase because he could catch food with his contraptions, but she says Skye because she could just fly us off the island in her helicopter. Yes, my child is smarter than I am.
“Okay,” I say with a nod, more than okay with this plan. My kid doesn’t want fancy lunches, to shop for pretty clothes, or to go bowling.
She just wants to hang out with me, and I can’t think of a single thing in my life that could be better.