by Jessica Loft
Getting closer to the cluster of houses, Maryann spotted the dark blue truck that had come to pick Larkin up from hospital the day they’d met. It was parked next to a clean, simple two-story house. There were no lights on, but why would there be? It was nearly two in the morning. Taking a deep breath, Maryann took her final step onto the porch and knocked on the door.
Just as she thought, no one came at first. It wasn’t until the third round of knocking that she saw a soft yellow glow through the window approaching her. A young redheaded woman opened the door, wearing her nightgown. She looked tired and angry, but she was definitely not Larkin.
“Can I help you?” She asked, rubbing her eyes.
“Yes,” Maryann answered, straightening her shoulders. “I’ve come to see Larkin.”
The red haired woman looked instantly awake, and she eyed Maryann suspiciously. Whatever doubts Maryann had about Larkin not being in danger vanished in that moment.
“Where is Larkin?” She asked, her voice growing stronger.
“And who might you be?” The redhead asked.
“I’m her friend. And I want- I need to see her right now.”
Melody shook her head, preparing to close the door.
“Larkin doesn’t have any friends. Now you better go before my husband wakes up. You’ll be sorry if he does.”
Ignoring her threat, Maryann pushed into the door, sending Melody sprawling backwards.
“Larkin!” Maryann yelled, going into the kitchen. From above, she heard the young girls terror filled voice scream for help.
Distracted by the call, Maryann didn’t notice the Melody was back on her feet with a thirst for vengeance. She charged Maryann, sending her off of her feet and to her back. It was in that moment that fear for the safety of her baby boiled through her, and as Melody rushed her again with a knife, she kicked out her legs. Her feet made contact with Melody’s chest, and the red head went sprawling backwards. Not thinking twice, Maryann grabbed the cast iron skillet from the stove and slammed it over the woman’s head. Immediately the she slumped back onto the floor, unconscious.
Hearing heavy footsteps, Maryann raced for the stairs and took them two at a time. She could hear someone close behind her, but she had to find Larkin. Reaching the top, she opened the first door to her left, and stilled immediately. There, lying strapped to a bed was Larkin. She was awake, and strapped to the bed by her ankles and one wrist. Her other hung free, and was struggling with the other ties. Her eyes were wide with fear and surprise. Flying into action, Maryann went to the opposite side of the bed, working on loosening the other cuff.
“Are you alright?” Maryann asked, getting the other wrist free.
“Yes, just get me out of here,” Larkin begged. With both hands free she tried to sit up and undo her ankles, but her belly was too big now to reach them.
“Stop. Right now.” Gregory demanded.
Slowly the two women looked up to see Larkin’s husband holding a rifle to them. Maryann had seen him once before, but the man back then was not the one she saw now. This one was haggard, unstable looking.
“Please, just let me take her,” Maryann whispered. She felt her nine-millimeter burning into her hip. She didn’t want to use it, but she would if she had to.
“That’s my wife,” he growled back, not moving.
“This is your wife?” Maryann asked, gesturing towards Larkin.
“This is how you treat your wife? No. This is how you treat a slave. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but this is wrong. All of this, it’s just wrong.”
“Please,” Larkin pleaded, hoping to speak to some sane part of her husband.
“Just let me go. You can have Melody. She’ll give you a lot of babies, I’m sure. But if you ever loved me, let me go.”
Gregory looked from his wife to the strangely familiar woman who’d broken into his house. He was tired, confused. He hadn’t felt himself since he found out Larkin was pregnant. Sobbing, he lowered the gun.
“I don’t know how this happened,” he confessed, going to Larkin’s feet to untie the straps.
“She got in my head. I could feel it you know. Like a sickness creeping in. I love her, but she’s evil.”
“Maybe once I’m gone you can help her,” Larkin offered. She was still incredibly afraid, but for the first time, she felt like she could actually be free.
“Just please, let us go.”
Gregory finished untying the ankle restraints and sat on the bed, making both women uncomfortable.
“What about the baby? What will people think?”
Larkin thought fast, knowing that there was no way she was going to turn up good in their community anymore.
“Just tell them I ran away. It’s not a lie. That I just left and you’re too heartbroken to go after me.”
Maryann could see that Gregory’s remaining sanity was battling the craziness that had slowly been taking over his mind. She had to get Larkin out of there, and soon. Carefully, she lifted Larkin to her feet. After months of not standing, her legs were wobbly, and she nearly fell to the ground. The only thing that stopped her was Gregory’s strong arms. He looked over at Maryann, his resolve fading.
“Promise me you’ll take care of her. That nothing like this will ever happen to her again.”
Maryann nodded her head, wanting nothing more than to get out of there.
“I promise.”
CHAPTER 8
1 Year Later
Larkin’s eyes slowly pried open, the sounds of Simon’s cooing waking her. A soft smile spread across her face as she turned over to see her beautiful son sitting up in his crib, trying to stand. He had gotten pretty good at crawling, but walking was still a little out of his reach.
“Good morning little man,” Larkin cooed, sliding out of her bed to pick up the baby. Simon smiled and laughed as he watched his mother walk towards him, and he eagerly reached for her. The boy looked just like his mother, straw blonde hair and all. Every day Larkin searched for a feature that would remind her of Gregory, but she never saw one. Simon was all hers.
After changing his diaper, Larkin walked down the stairs to the kitchen where William, Stella, and Maryann were already awake. The family greeted them as they came down the stairs, and William asked her if she wanted pancakes.
“Yes please,” she answered, accepting his kiss on her cheek as she walked in. Unlike the dynamic at the compound, Larkin, William, and Maryann all shared a strong but plutonic love. There was no confusion, no stepping on toes; just love.
After Maryann had rescued her, William had been furious. It took him nearly a month to start talking to Maryann again, but as soon as her water broke he was over it. They hadn’t talked about it since. Now they all lived together in William and Maryann’s house.
Loving children, Larkin volunteered to watch Simon, Stella, and their neighbor’s two year old while William ran his clinic. Maryann, upon telling her story to the local women’s shelter, had been hired to help women just like her and Larkin escape from abusive husbands. It kept her busier than she would have liked, but helping people made it worth the while. However, it was Sunday, which meant they were all in the house together.
“How were the nightmares?” Maryann asked Larkin as she approached the table.
Larkin settled Simon in her lap and began to breastfeed. Turning to Maryann, she gave her a little half smile.
“Still the same. Although Gregory shows up a little less. Mostly it’s just Melody now.”
“Give it time,” Maryann assured, reaching out to take her young friend’s hand.
Gregory had helped carry Larkin to Maryann’s car in his final act of kindness. Then he was never seen again. She often wondered if Melody had killed him, but then, after Simon was born, envelopes of money addressed to her started showing up at William’s clinic. At first she’d been afraid that he would try to make contact with her, but after the first six months, Larkin had grown more comfortable with the fact that maybe he was just trying to do the
right thing. Whatever it was, she was just glad that he kept his distance.
Gregory had been the love of her life once, and every so often in place of her nightmares she’d have dreams of being with Gregory again. She’d feel his warm, loving arms wrap around her like they used to, and she’d feel safe again. But then morning would come, and Larkin knew that whether she loved him or not, she needed to move on.
Thanks to Maryann, she’d discovered that her marriage to Gregory wasn’t technically legal to the outside world, and that she would have no looming divorce to worry about. It sounded cold, but Larkin took it as a positive and pushed it out of her mind. More than anything she just wanted to forget about her life on the compound.
William sat her plate of pancakes in front her and she thanked him. When he said no problem, she grabbed his wrist and looked into his eyes, then Maryann’s. Tears threatened to spill out as her throat closed up with emotion.
“No really, thank you.”
Now Enjoy The Next Story Below Or Choose One From The Table of Contents
Riding Under My Stars
Chapter 1
Katelyn walked out of the clothing store, and her phone rang when her feet hit the parking lot. Her mom. With a heavy sigh, she answered.
“Hi, Mom,” she said flatly.
“Well, nice to talk to you, too.”
“I’m just leaving the store. It wasn’t the most fun experience.”
“I bet,” her mother said with sarcasm.
Katelyn walked down the long aisle of cars, searching for her black Nissan. “Nothing fits right.”
“Have you thought any more about what we talked about?”
Katelyn shook her head and took out her keys to pop the trunk open. “Yeah, and like I told you before, I know your thoughts and opinions on the subject, but I need to do what’s right for me.”
She tossed her bags into the trunk and slammed the lid, then got into the driver’s seat.
“I don’t think you’re being very responsible about this. You’re only 24, Katelyn.”
She gasped. “Oh, I am? Thank you, Mother, for pointing that out. I had no idea. Gosh, you’re right. What am I thinking? Twenty-four is much too young to be making my own life decisions.” She started the car, her hands shaking with anger.
“Yes, apparently it is too young, because you’re making the wrong choice, and you’re going to mess up your whole life.”
Katelyn put the car in reverse, holding the phone while the tears started. “How can you say that? I thought you’d be happy about me doing this.”
She whipped her head back and forth to check for coming cars and pressed down on the gas. But she turned her head back too soon. There was a metal crash and a jolt. Her eyes went wide and her heart leapt as she stomped on the brake.
“Mom, I have to go, I’ll call you back later.” She pressed end before her mom could protest. No way was she going to tell her she just hit something. Not after they’d been fighting for days over her latest “life choice,” as her mother called it.
Katelyn set the phone down and got out of the car. She dashed back and saw that she hadn’t just hit something, she had banged into and knocked over a motorcycle.
Immediately, her pulse sped and she felt sick. Everything she knew of motorcycle guys said they were crazy about their bikes. She had to fix this, fast, before whoever owned it came out and saw the bike lying helpless on the ground.
She quickly got back in her car and pulled forward again into her parking spot. No other cars were around, so that should mean no witnesses. Oh, she’d leave a note, of course. She wasn’t as irresponsible as her mother thought, but it would be much better if she didn’t have to face the man, or hopefully the woman, who owned the bike.
She didn’t really know anything about motorcycles, but she did know they were supposedly heavy. Likely much too heavy for her to lift. She went over and put her hand on the handlebar, then pulled. The bike didn’t budge an inch. Okay, new plan.
She went to the side of the bike, and put her hands under the seat.
“Hey! Hey!”
The shouting came from across the parking lot. She looked up, hoping it was just someone coming to help her.
A man ran from the direction of the store. He wore head to toe black. Black leather boots, black jeans and a t-shirt, black leather jacket. His sunglasses were a very dark gray and even his hair looked almost black and was buzzed short. He looked very muscular and very angry.
He ran to her and ripped her arm away from the bike. “Get. Your hands. Off my bike. What the hell happened?!”
Katelyn stepped back, shocked that he had grabbed her so violently. The panic rose in her chest, and she struggled to breathe.
“I—I—I’m sorry, I—”
“You did this? You knocked my bike over?”
He stepped up to her, his face too close to hers. He was taller than her, towering over her. She’d never felt so small. He had to be in his twenties still. His face had no wrinkles. He was so close, she had no choice but to look at him. Then she didn’t want to stop looking at him.
He was gorgeous. The skin under the stubble of his jaw was smooth across his face and tanned. The stubble, too, gave him the rough edge of what she thought of as a biker. She wished she could see his eyes. But his voice. It was deep and strong, even if he was using it to scream at her. His muscles threatened to tear his shirt. He could probably knock her out with one punch. For some reason, the idea of that—not of him actually hitting her, that terrified her—but the idea that he was that tough, turned her on.
“I didn’t mean to. I’m really, really sorry,” she said. “I’ll pay for any damages.”
“Damn right, you will.”
He squatted down and pressed his back against the bike’s frame. Slowly, he stood, pressing up and back against the bike until it stood upright again. He made it look effortless, but she hadn’t even been able to budge it. He was just that strong. She could see the muscles bulging in his jeans and tightening the sleeves of his jacket.
He inspected his bike carefully. “Well, the fairing is scratched, the engine guard, my custom hand grips and foot pegs, and, of course, my pipes.”
She looked at the places he indicated and saw the scratches. She gulped. “Are those parts very expensive to replace?”
He turned to her, crossed his arms, then slid his sunglasses down to look her in the eye. His sparkling blue eyes caught the sun and glittered like jewels. “Expensive? To replace them would probably cost more than your whole car. Assuming that’s your little junker, right there?”
He nodded toward her car. It wasn’t totally a junker, but it was a pretty old Nissan. She looked over and saw the rust marks around the tires, the small dings and dents along the back.
“That’s mine.”
“So, I guess I’m going to have to sue you to get the money?” His words still came out too sharp and loud. She’d thought he was calming down, but he was on the verge of shouting again.
“What? No, I—”
“Oh, you’re going to get the money, where? Working the street?”
“No, my—”
“Well, you better get busy, then little lady.”
“What? I’m just—”
“Or maybe.” He cocked his head to the side. “I’ll just beat it out of you. You’ll pay for it then, won’t you? If you have two broken legs and can’t run from me?”
She took a step back, her head swimming with fear. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your bike, I just didn’t see it.” Tears were running down her face and she couldn’t apologize fast enough. “I’m so sorry, I promise I’ll get everything fixed, I have insurance and they’ll take care of it.” She sniffled and wiped at her tears.
He still stood with crossed arms, glaring at her.
Her breath hitched and she couldn’t swallow. She took out her phone, which hadn’t stopped buzzing in her pocket with her mother’s calls. “I’ll just call the cops and have them come look at it and file a repo
rt. Then my insurance—”
“Wait a minute.”
He reached over and gently took the phone from her hand. “We don’t need to get the cops involved.”
“Are you sure, but—”
“No, it’s fine.” He handed the phone back.
“Okay, then I’ll just call my insurance and—”
“Sure, you do that. Look, they’re pretty minor scratches. Just stop crying.”
If his words held more sympathy, she might have. He still sounded mad and his tone was curt. But her tears kept running and her breathing was labored, no matter how she tried to make it stop.
He sighed and shook his head. “Let’s just take some photos, and you give me your number and we’ll go from there, okay?”
He took out his phone and started snapping pics. She tried to do the same, but her hand kept shaking and making the photos blurry.
“Geez, just stop crying, it’s fine.” He huffed and took her phone from her. He took photos for her and handed it back. “What’s your number?”
She gave it to him through sobs.
“Name?”
“Katelyn Hayes.”
“I’m calling you.”
She looked down and instead of her mother’s face and name, saw a strange number. She saved the number and asked, “What’s your name?”
“X.”
She blinked at him. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“Just X.”
“Okay.” She typed in X with a trembling finger and put her phone back in her pocket.
He watched her for a few minutes as she blew her nose and dabbed her puffy eyes.
“You gonna be okay?” he asked.
She nodded, but already fresh tears were coming. How would she cover the deductible? What would this do to her insurance rates? Would she be able to hide it from her mother? And oh, no, what if she found out? She’d go off on how Katelyn was such a bad driver and never paid attention and was too irresponsible.
“My mother will kill me if she finds out,” she muttered under her breath.
“Ah. Yeah, they can be like that. Mine’s a pain sometimes, too.”