Page 20 of Sabre’s Guard

“Now you’re talking,” I tell her. “We’re simply adapting to new circumstances.”

She takes me by the hand and leads me out to the porch swing, saying, “You should know the whole story.”

I’m fucking shocked that there is more to this already twisted story. I don’t say that out loud because it would be rude. Settling into the swing beside her, I say, “Let me have it. I’m all ears.”

“For starters, Dylan wasn’t wild about having a baby. The pregnancy was accidental, and he saw being a father as his duty. When he found out I was pregnant, he was happy mostly because it proved his virility.”

“That’s some seriously fucked-up shit, Linsey.”

“Don’t I know it. At some point, reality hit him about what having a baby meant. He had to instantly grow up, get a real job with insurance, and find us some decent housing. Both our families immediately pressured us to get married and him to step up. We grew up in a religious community, so you can imagine how well a pregnancy outside of wedlock went down. They told him he was the man of the house and whatever he decided, I needed to agree to. That’s when a switch flipped in his brain. The power went straight to his head.”

The swing chain creaks under my hefty weight every time I shift position. I force myself to sit still and listen to the story she’s telling. This is emotional and personal information. It’s also likely painful for her to talk about.

“He started bossing me around, being controlling over everything, even things that didn’t need his input. It eventually escalated to violence. I begged them to help me. Instead, they took his side.”

I reach over to take her hand in mine. “Linsey, I’m so sorry that happened to you, sweetheart.”

She fights back tears, tugging her hand from mine. “I remember it like it was yesterday. We came to Sunday dinner. By that time, my baby bump was showing. I had a black eye, a split lip, and bruises on my arms. My father told me to stop being defiant. And my mother told me to just bear with him, that marriage would settle him.”

“Marriage,” I grit out. “They saw the bruises and busted lip and told you to fuckin’ marry that asshole?”

She nods, wrapping her arms around her stomach. “I didn’t know it at the time, but they had already booked the church. I realized that if I’d had that baby in that town, my child and I would never get out. I already told you what happened when I tried to leave him.”

“That’s when he tracked you down and beat you in public,” I say quietly.

“When he was arrested, I stayed long enough for the trial, and then I left and never looked back. I cut off all ties with my family. Aunt Carol is my father’s sister. I was only nine when she left our community. I managed to track her down and went to her for help.”

“You did the right thing. I promise you that much.”

“I know I did.” Her chin comes up, and she adds, “Men like Dylan are dangerous because they’ll destroy everything to get what they think is theirs.”

She doesn’t say thank you. She looks at me for a long moment, her brown eyes shining with unshed tears. And then she leans forward and kisses me.

When I put my arm around her, she melts into my arms. Her kisses are certain, hungry, and she completely takes charge.

Our moment gets interrupted when her phone buzzes. She tugs it out of her jeans pocket, and she remains cuddled into my side as she answers it on speakerphone.

When she says hello, a quivering, nervous female voice says, “Linsey?”

“Who’s this?” Linsey asks.

“It’s Shelly. Do you remember me? Do you have time to talk?”

Linsey mutes the call and quickly explains, “It’s my cousin Shelly from back home. Her mother is my mom’s younger sister. She was around seven years old when I left Billings.”

“See what she has to say,” I tell her. “It might be important or it might be a trap.”

Taking it off mute, she answers her question. “Yeah, I can talk now. It’s been so long. I guess I’m surprised at getting a call from you.”

“I wish it was under better circumstances,” her cousin says.

“What happened?” Linsey asks. Then she asks the question I’m wondering too. “How did you get my number?”

“It’s about Dylan,” she starts. “He got in touch with your father after he got out of prison. He wanted to know where you were. Your father didn’t know, but I heard through the grapevine that somebody told him they saw you in a cooking video from California. I got your number from the restaurant website. It’s on the page where you sign up for classes. Be careful, Linsey, I know Uncle Gerald doesn’t like modern technology, but you’re easy to find.”

Linsey looks worried at that. And so she should be. It’s the worst-case scenario playing out.

“Do you know why he’s been trying to find me?” she asks.