Hannah
“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” I whisper to myself.
I pause to look at my reflection in the long mirror over the sink in the cabin's bathroom for a moment before continuing my pacing from one side to the other. I’ve damn near worn a hole in the rug from how quickly I’ve dragged my feet over it since I got back from our ride.
I let him rope me in again, got hung up in the way his blue eyes seem to fill with storm clouds when he looks at me.
And fuck, I missed the way his hands felt on my skin.
That familiar burn that licks at me and sizzles through my veins.
I don’t think I would have stopped him from taking me right then and there in the field, but then he had to ruin it.
You’re min e. The second those words broke through the spell he’d put over me it’s like my mind began to question everything he’s ever told me.
I knew when I lifted that hat off his head and put it on mine that I was making a declaration.
I let my heart lead me and I claimed him, but my head caught up the moment I realized what I was doing and I got spooked.
I did what I do best, and pulled away, ran away.
He’s probably so confused at my hot and cold reactions to him, but I’m still struggling to get my mind to agree with my heart and move forward, jump in heart first and let everything else catch up later.
Just when I think I can do that I trip again, thinking that if he could lie so easily about his family, about this place, what else could he lie to me about?
I pull up my shirt and turn sideways, eyeing the lower part of my stomach.
It’s flat since I’m still so early. Now that I have to think about this baby and not just myself, I don’t want to fall into a lust filled mistake with him again.
If he is so adamant about being in love with me, he has to prove it.
No lies, no distractions with his perfect hands and body and that tongue.
“No!” I tug my shirt back in place, mentally kicking myself for falling again so easily.
The countertop is cool under my hands as I lean forward staring into my brown eyes, “You will not bend,” I say firmly to my reflection.
Nodding a few times, I shut off the light on my way out the door and walk into the bedroom.
I heard Dean come in a while ago, but now the house is quiet.
My stomach rumbles and I throw my head back with a groan.
I was hoping I could crawl into bed and avoid running into him out in the shared space.
Tip-toeing to the door, I turn the knob and pull the door open a crack, peeking out into the dimly lit living room.
I listen for a moment, and when I’m sure the coast is clear, I open the door, fully cringing when the unused hinges squeak loudly.
Pausing, I listen for his footsteps, but the house remains still, peaceful.
So I cross the threshold and for the first time get a good look around me.
My room sits on one corner of the house, opening up into the living room.
The warm, white wood floor is covered in an enormous rug that pokes out around the base of a U-shaped couch.
A lit fireplace casts the room in a cozy warm glow, music softly humming from the large TV above the fireplace.
I run my hand along the fluffy blankets that have been thrown over the back of the couch as I make my way to the kitchen on the other side of the room.
A large dining room table sits to the side surrounded by a wall of windows.
I riffle through the cupboards, surprised to find them stocked with groceries despite us only being here for a day and half.
A box of Coco Puffs catches my eye, and I reach for them, then close the cupboard and turn to the fridge.
Yogurt. I need yogurt. But my mind pulls at me to go back.
“What the hell…” I mutter to myself, planted firmly in the middle of the kitchen floor head flying between the fridge and the box of cereal I know is behind that wood door.
I whip my phone from my pocket and google Why do I want Coco Puffs so badly .
My mouth waters for the cereal that I haven’t had since I was a kid.
“Oh my God!” I cry out, then slap a hand over my mouth.
Waiting again for Dean to step out of his room, I listen and wait then pull my phone in front of my eyes and read the first article heading.
Pregnancy can cause cravings that are hard to resist, especially in the first trimester.
“Fuck it,” I mutter. Tossing my phone on the counter, I rip open the cupboard and grab the box of chocolate puffs.
I fill a bowl to the top and pour cold milk over it, bouncing on my toes in anticipation.
Closing the fridge door, I turn to grab my phone, noticing a vase sitting on the counter that I’d missed before, too caught up in my pregnancy cravings to focus on anything else.
A small white vase filled with roughly cut wild flowers stares back at me, the same orange ones Dean and I rode through earlier this evening.
Dirt still clings to the stems and some of them poke out from where he missed the vase entirely, but it still makes my stomach flip.
Tucking the stems into the water, I pick up the piece of paper beside it and read Dean’s rough handwriting,
My mom makes Saturday morning crepes every weekend, it’s kinda tradition. I’d love for you to join.
-D
I tuck the note in my pocket, unsure how to feel about meeting his parents when I’m not even clear on what we are.
I can’t really walk in there and announce that I’m pregnant with their grandbaby when I haven’t even told Dean yet.
I shovel spoonfuls of cereal into my mouth while I sink into the couch and pull up my email and texts, anxious to catch up on anything I've missed the past day.
A reminder email about my next ride in Kansas this weekend sits unread, so I read through the details and double check my calendar has the right info.
Deleting a few spam emails, I swipe out of the app and pull up my texts. I see one from Matty.
Hey hon, I had an old friend call me the other day. He runs a clinic just outside of Amarillo. He asked if maybe you’d like to come out and be a guest presenter. It’s the Wednesday after your ride in Kansas so the drive isn’t too far. What do you think?
I scoop another bite while I type out my reply.
Let’s go out with a bang!
I smile, hitting send. Kansas is my last official ride of the summer, so why not add another thing before the weather turns and I’ll have to finally come to terms with this baby and their daddy.
After another two bowls of cereal, I turn off the fireplace and TV, clicking lamps off on my way back to my room.
As the living room is cast into darkness, a light down the opposite hall catches my eye.
I tip toe across the floor towards it, listening for any sound from inside.
Music plays softly floating out from the crack under the door.
I raise my fist, ready to knock, but pull it back, wrapping my arms around my middle and turning back towards my room.
It doesn’t take long before I slip off to sleep surrounded by a mountain of soft sheets and heavy covers.
Be a good girl and I won’t hurt you…at least, not too much.
The man's whiskey breath is hot against my skin, his knee nudging my legs apart as he steps between them. My arms hang heavy, the drugs in my body making them useless to fight him off. Struggling to fill my lungs with air underneath the tight hold he has on my neck, my vision begins to go blurry. No, no, no. Please no! I open my mouth to yell, but nothing comes out. Tears prick at my eyes, threatening to spill over, but I blink them back, determined to not show weakness at the monster whose hands slide over my skin. I try to send my mind somewhere else, make myself just a body for him to use. I’ll be ok after this , I tell myself.
I will not break. Images of Mallory suffering like I’m about to be brings me a small sense of comfort.
If she can survive this, I can, too. I let my eyes roll down to his, hoping he can see the coldness in them.
“Hannah!” a voice calls out to me. I turn my head, trying to find the man behind the voice, but he’s nowhere to be found.
God, I miss him! Fresh tears well and I have to clench my eyes closed to keep them from slipping.
Baby, I’m here! There he is again. My head lolls from side to side, trying to keep my eyes open, but they feel so heavy.
If he could bring some vigilante justice to the man who raped Mallory, wouldn’t he do the same for me?
Fingers slither up my legs and twist between my legs, cupping me.
I thrash in his hold, begging silently for him to let me go.
Let me go so I can get back to my cowboy.