Chapter 3
CHAPTER
THREE
MARNIE
Iwalk around my apartment, checking the locks and pulling the drapes tight. Something feels off. Like I’m being watched. I’ve been watched before, so I know the sensation. But I can’t figure out where it’s coming from. I’m worried we’ve been found again.
After I confirm everything is locked up tight, I walk to Oly’s room and check on her, then head to my own and grab my pajamas. I’m taking a shower tonight since tomorrow we’re going to the lake with Harley for the Fourth of July.
It’s been hard trying to keep Harley at a distance. She just keeps forcing her way in, and honestly, I love it. I’ve never had a girlfriend in my life.
Her brother, Kodiak, is another story. I try to keep him at a distance, but he won’t have it.
Just today he came into the bakery, and when I called him by his road name, he cornered me and told me to call him Rylan.
I told him I’ve read enough romance novels with MC themes to know that’s not going to happen.
When he asked what I meant, I just walked off and left him standing there.
I don’t know if Harley explained it to him, but I was able to avoid him for the rest of the day.
I have a full security system in the shop. He tried to install one here at my apartment too, but I told him the landlord wouldn’t allow it. I didn’t tell him that Jim is the manager of the complex.
Jim has been getting worse with me. Every time I leave, I catch the curtains in his apartment fluttering, and I know he’s watching me.
Even now, in my own apartment, it feels like someone’s watching me.
I head for the shower. As I rinse off, my mind turns to Rylan.
I can’t stop my hands from drifting down to my core and getting myself off.
I’m not as knowledgeable as people would think.
I only had sex a few times with my husband, and he was my first and only.
Now it seems the man I crave is the one I can’t have.
If I give in to my urges, I’ll have to leave.
I won’t risk him getting hurt, or worse, the way Jean-Louis was. I couldn’t do that to Harley.
I style my hair after the shower, then put it up in a loose bun before climbing into bed. I’m starting to drift off when I hear a noise. I flip on the light and scan my room.
A hanger in my closet is swaying.
Oh shoot! Do I have mice, or is it something else? Ugh.
I’ll report it to Jim after the holiday. He can bring in an exterminator to get rid of them. But how did they get to my hangers?
I decide to leave the light on and eventually fall into a restless sleep.
“Are you going to learn your lesson now, Mariah?” Silas growled in my ear as blood dripped down my back.
I needed to respond, or he’d continue to beat me with the cat-o’-nine-tails. But my tongue was thick in my mouth from holding in my screams.
“Okay, I guess you didn’t learn.”
I could imagine, in my mind’s eye, his arm pulling back.
“Silas Sir, I understand. An-And pr-promise I’ve learned my lesson.”
I was about to drop my head and let oblivion pull me over the edge when I remembered the rest.
“Father dear, I forgive you for beating me,” I said, lifting my sore, aching head to look into the eyes of the man seated across from me, where I was strapped to the whipping bench.
His eyes, almost black, were locked on me. His three-piece suit was perfectly pressed, and the chain for his pocket watch gleamed in the dim light of the room.
“Darling daughter, don’t make us punish you again.” His voice sounded evil.
I forced back the cringe threatening to escape. “I won’t, Father.” I dropped my eyes and waited until Silas unstrapped me from the bench.
Silas leaned over me, his chest rubbing against my torn back. His spit rolled down the side of my face, and I held in the vomit wanting to erupt.
“Mimi, don’t forget to thank me too.” Silas chuckled in my ear.
I closed my eyes, trying to rid the image of how turned on he was, his cock pressed into my ass.
“Thank you, Silas Sir.” I tried not to gag on the words. But I had to swallow so many times, I was sure he figured it out.
“I’ll come see you later.”
His dark promise made me yank my hand free from the strap the moment he released it, and I covered my mouth.
I rose on shaky legs as I carefully pulled my white shirt over my torn flesh.
I had to cover myself before leaving the room, but the thought of the material touching my skin caused me to almost cry out.
I bit my tongue and pierced the already tortured flesh.
“Ms. Shields will be up to clean you before you take your shower.”
“Thank you, Father.”
I slowly walked from the room, my head bowed, just as I’d been taught.
I was a lesser human than my father and Silas, and for a moment, I had forgotten that.
They punished me for it. Women were meant to bear children and manage the home while taking whatever their husbands gave them.
They were not to have minds of their own or jobs.
As soon as I could, I was getting away from there.
I’d talked my father into letting me attend baking school to impress suitors.
What I didn’t tell him was that it would also help me get a job so I could take care of myself and escape from him and Silas.
Get away from their evil plans to marry me off to one of my father’s decrepit old friends.
I come awake, gasping for air and clutching at my chest in the dark of my room. Glancing around, I try to figure out when I turned off the light.
Why am I having that dream now? I haven’t thought about the beatings in a long time. Lessons were hard learned in my life. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m getting close to Rylan and I’m not sure what he wants from me. Or maybe it’s the fact that I feel like the walls have eyes again.
Silas would watch me all the time, even when I showered. Whenever I was home, it was the worst. I loved being at boarding school, where I finally had some privacy.
The next morning, after a fitful sleep, I open the curtains and look out at the world I live in now, compared to the one I was raised in.
My father would turn his nose up at my apartment.
The unkept lawn, the cracked pavement, the chipped paint.
It all reflects lack of money. I have enough to find a better place, but why bother if I’m just going to have to run again?
Walking across the room, I turn on my phone and open my Spotify playlist. Lianne La Havas comes on with “Don’t Wake Me Up.” I sing along as I start making breakfast for Oly and myself.
By the time Oly wakes, she’s grumpy and doesn’t want to get ready by herself.
“Listen here, Miss Priss, go get ready, or I’m going swimming without you.”
She stomps her little foot. “Fine.”
She huffs and picks out the outfit she wants to wear over the swimsuit I already put on her.
I look out the window and see Harley pulling up in her truck. I pick up Oly and grab several of our bags before stepping out the door.
“Can you take Miss Priss, please?” I ask, handing Oly to Harley as I reach the bottom step.
I put Oly’s hair up in braids today, then twisted them into buns to keep them from getting wet or sandy. Her hair is so thick it takes forever to dry, and she hates sitting still while I blow-dry it.
I rush back up to the apartment for the rest of the bags and lock up behind me. I’m trying to get out of here before Jim corners me again.
Harley is buckling Oly into the car seat she insisted on buying for her truck, just for when we ride with her. I step to the back of the truck and start sliding our bags under the tonneau cover. Harley comes around and helps me with the last of it.
“Is that it?” She laughs at me.
“I know it looks like I’m moving out, but when you have a kid, you’ll understand. I have to plan for every scenario.”
I have our go-bags with me. I’ve been carrying them everywhere lately, ever since that constant feeling of being watched set in. Holden taught me what to pack and insisted they stay ready at all times.
“Are those extra clothes in case you spend the night?” Harley points at the go-bags.
I turn away from her so it’s easier to lie. I hate doing it because I respect her, but I’m not ready to burden her with my truths.
“Yep, just in case.”
“Okay. All locked up.”
“Just a moment,” I say, realizing I forgot my cell phone.
I rush back upstairs, unlock my apartment, and grab my cell off the coffee table. I walk out and lock the door again. By the time I make it to the bottom of the steps, Jim is waiting for me.
His eyes trace my outfit, and I fight back a shiver of revulsion.
I’m in high-waisted black shorts and a black T-shirt I cut the bottom off over my bikini.
My hair is up in a bun at the back of my head, with a red handkerchief wrapped around like a headband.
My arm and leg tattoos are on full display.
“You going out for the day? Thought I’d see if you and the kid wanted to go see the fireworks tonight?”
I hate that he calls Oly “the kid,” but it reminds me that Rylan always uses her name or calls her beauty in French. I still need to ask him about speaking French.
“Um, thank you, but I can’t. I have plans with my friends.” I wave my hand toward Harley in her truck.
“You still seeing that—”
“Ready, Marn?” Harley interrupts him, and I’m so glad.
I run over to the passenger side and pull myself up into the seat.
“Thank you so much, Harley. He’s so creepy,” I tell her as we back out of the spot.
“I’ll have one of the guys come talk to him. Let him know you’re under the protection of the club now.”
“Oh, no, don’t do that. I don’t want to make things worse or make waves.”
“It won’t. Men like him don’t take hints. They need to be told straight up the rules.”