by Piper Frost
Tommy holds me while I cry, not for my mother, but for everything here that I left. He's the strength I need today, but not just today. He's been the strength I've needed all these years but I chose to forget about everyone in this town. Look where that got me.
As people start walking toward us, offer their condolences, I quickly turn to Bo.
“I love you,” I tell him firmly and he nods. “I'm still your sister.”
He stares at me a minute before sighing and pulling me into a hug. “I love you too, Affton.”
“Dad,” I grab his arm after Bo walks away with Kinlee. “Love you.” I kiss his cheek and don't even let him reply before I walk away. I grab Tommy's hand and walk him to the back of the crowd. “Hey, I'm going to head to my dad's and...” I glance around the ground. “See what needs to be donated and whatnot.” I look up at him. “I can't be in this crowd anymore.”
“Do you want me to meet you there?” His hand's tight in mine and he looks at where our bodies are connected like he's got a million more things on his mind than helping me get the hell out of this funeral.
“No.” I chuckle and roll my eyes. “I won't be long.” I wrap my arms around him.
I told Bo I love him, because I do. And I told my dad I love him, because I have to. I can tell Tommy I love him, because I want him to love me.
“I lo—”
His fingers push to my lips, stopping me. His eyes stern on mine. ”Don't.” He shakes his head, his jaw tight. Out of all my years of knowing Tommy, I never thought he'd shut me down and not let me tell him how I feel. “You better mean those words fully before you say them to me, Affton.”
My mouth hangs open. That's not what I expected. I mean those words, but not in the way he needs me to, because I'm not staying. I close my lips and look away from him.
“That's what I thought.” He takes a step back. “Will you call me when you're on your way back to my place? Or are you coming to your brother’s after you're done at your dad’s?”
“I don't really think I'm welcome at Bo's.” I chuckle to hide the hurt. “I've had enough today. I'm not going to go there.”
“Then call me when you leave your dad's. I'll meet you back at my place.” He gives my hand a squeeze before pulling me in for a hug. “I love you, Beany.”
I gasp at his words, but he's already walking away. He just told me not to say it unless I mean it. Does he...
I open my mouth to call his name, but what's the point? I'm leaving.
As I speed away from town, I look in my rearview mirror and the tears start yet again. I push dial and nervously tap my fingers on the steering wheel.
“Hey,” Diamond answers.
“Did your friend check in and out of the hotel?” I immediately ask. That was my alibi. I paid for a vacation for a friend of Diamond’s so if Corey tracks anything, there will be evidence.
“Yep. Everything was fine. You okay? How was the funeral?”
I huff. “I came home to a lot more than I bargained for.”
“Like a damn fine southern man?” she asks with a grin to her tone.
“How—”
“I stalked that guy. And I also stalked your brother. Mm-mm,” she moans and I can't help but laugh. “Too bad he's got a pretty little southern belle. I've never been with a southern guy. They all man? Muscles and country twang?”
“Diamond, stop.” I laugh.
“Why does everyone think you're from the east coast?”
“Please, please stop digging into my life,” I say with worry.
“It's all safe with me, Af. You okay though? Headed back?”
“Yes. Is Corey in the office?”
“Probably,” she mumbles sounding bored. She respects his presence but I picked up on Diamond not liking Corey soon after she started.
“I need you to disable messaging from all my social media accounts. If you can't disable it, delete them.”
“Uh, Affton, that's a really bad idea.”
“Do it. I don't want anyone able to contact me on social media,” I insist.
“Yeah, okay.”
“Corey's beeping in, Diamond. I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Drive safe and yeehaw.”
“Diamond!” I shriek but she hangs up. “Hi,” I answer his call.
“What the fuck are you trying to pull?” his voice growls over the line and my stomach somersaults. “Five fucking years, Af. Five fucking years.”
Five years what? We've been married five years? We miscarried five years ago. Five years what?
“What's wrong, Corey? Talk to me. I'm driving home right now. Talk to me.”
“For five fucking years you've been my cunt of a wife and you never changed your fucking name on your accounts!”
Oh shit. My name was never changed to Affton Bower anywhere but legally.
“I don't manage them, Corey. You know this. It was an oversight! But you can't change my last name. People know me as Affton Hart. If you change it to Bower, it'll cause so much confusion. I can hyphen it,” I quickly offer.
“People wouldn't know who the fuck you are if it weren't for me, you bitch!”
People wouldn't know who I was, including you, if it weren't for Eamonn Piaget.
“I'll have Diamond change it right now. Affton Hart-Bower.” I can't budge on this and I know there will be consequences, but I absolutely can't. I’m a Hart and I always will be.
“We'll discuss this when you're home.” The line goes dead and I know what that means.
Every mile I get closer to my house, I regret leaving Tommy. When I walk through the door, Corey's headed straight for me and I quickly step out onto the porch, hoping he won't strike me while outside.
“Come in the house, Af,” he says with warning in his tone.
“N-no,” I stutter in fear.
“What?” He laughs menacingly. “Come into the house.”
“I can't. You're going to hurt me.”
“Walk into this house right now before I get angrier.”
“Promise you won't hit me,” I demand, trying to stand up for myself.
We're in a stare down and it's the middle of the night so none of our neighbors would probably catch anything he'd do to me right now anyway.
“I promise you,” he finally says.
“Corey, if you loved me...”
His eyebrows start to raise. “What?”
“You wouldn't put your hands on me,” I whisper, unable to hold eye contact.
“Come into the house, Af.” He takes a step back and gestures into the house.
“No more, Corey.” I hate the weakness in my voice.
“Please come into the house. I haven't seen you in two days. Greet me properly.”
“I can't.” I shake my head no.
“I promised you I wouldn't hit you.” He's losing his patience. “Come into the house. This is your last chance before I lock you out.” I hesitantly walk toward the house and he steps aside. “Good girl.” The second I cross the threshold he slams the door and shoves me against it so hard, spots blur my vision. “You goddamned cunt.” His hand's around my throat and he’s tearing at my clothing. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
Every move I make has him gripping my throat tighter and my knees go weak but he holds me up by my neck. Before I even realize what he's doing, sharp pain makes my ears ring as he tries to enter me.
“Stop!” When I try to kick, he punches the back of my head. I continue to beg until my throat is sore. I fight until I'm in too much pain and my front tooth is chipped.
I thought being beaten would be as bad as it got. Never did I expect him to rape me.
“This is rape, Corey,” I sob, making another attempt to get away from him but I'm too weak after uselessly thrashing against his restraint.
“You're my fucking wife,” he grunts, thrusting again. “It's not rape. I'll fuck you when I want.”
I close my eyes and try to think back to when I was happy. I'm not a stuck-up bitch that thinks money is th
e most important thing in the world. What I am is a devoted woman that likes to work hard for her money. I didn't want my father's money and I swore from a young age I would work damn hard to have more money than my parents, because my dad always held it over mine and Bo's head that we’d need him and his money to survive. I didn't want his old money. Dirty money. That money has been in the family for generations and I don't even want to think about where it all stemmed from. I wanted to make my own money. I wanted to be able to proudly take care of myself. And I love to work my ass off.
Right now I wish I were barely getting by, but so in love, we didn’t need much else. And I don't mean with Corey. I wish Corey didn't exist. There's only one man that will make me feel like nothing's ever changed in our lives. Even after years of drifting apart, my broken heart still fluttered for Tommy like this life I'm living isn't real. Like he's always been the one. Nothing was keeping me in the south though. Not even love, and damn that boy for making me fall in love with him. I just assumed I'd get over my crush, but after seeing him briefly, even after all this time, I have so many regrets, and not just because of the situation I'm in right now. I was never a hopeless romantic. Didn't want to find the boy of my dreams. Dreaming up the perfect wedding and making babies wasn't really my childhood ambition. But now that I've lived half my life, more or less the way I've wanted to, I do have regrets. I'd go back and beg Tommy to come with me, but that’s the problem. We're both too stubborn. I don't want to be in the south, he doesn't want to leave it. What other options did we have other than letting go of what could have been?
It's all long gone and my life's been replaced with a nightmare. As I blink my eyes open, I'm laying on the marble of the foyer and I don't remember why or how I got here until I try to move. I’m in so much pain, mentally and physically, I'm not sure I'll ever recover.
I can't go through this again. He's never done anything like this before. There's always been consent, and though I haven't actually enjoyed sex with him in a while, besides the one time I closed my eyes and thought about Tommy, it wasn't forced. He's never forced it on me like this. I've never begged him to stop. I've never wished I'd rather been dead, and the abuse hasn't gotten to these horrific levels, but add rape to it and I'm done. I'll get out of here before he does it again, because the more and more his mental stability slips, the more endangered my life becomes. I've never blacked out from him beating me before, but I’m waking up cold, alone, bloody, and raped by my own husband.
I'll serve him divorce papers and a meaningless threat that I hope he believes, and I'll leave town until he signs. Here's my chance to go home and let the arms I've needed this whole time protect me, but I'd never bring this hell home. I have to go somewhere Corey won't find me. And in the meantime, I need to find a different job. If I do get away from Corey, I'll need to rely solely on myself again, and I'll need enough money to keep myself protected.
I have a lot of work ahead of me, but I've never given up, I won't start now. I'll slowly regain my life, and maybe one day in the future, everything Tommy told me will be true. I'll deserve something better. And I'll be able to safely visit home...
A week ago I walked into an empty house. Affton told me she wouldn't be long, so I waited at her brother's house for six hours, waiting on a text until I couldn't take it anymore. I assumed maybe she went back to my place to get some peace and quiet, but when I walked into a dark house I knew she was gone. I checked the room she was in, knowing full well that I wouldn't find her bags there. I don't know when she did it, but she packed everything she brought into her car without me knowing it.
She was planning all along on leaving after that funeral. So here I sit. Four beers in, staring at the biggest fuckin' bonfire we've had on the ranch in a long ass time, and all I can see is the way she looked at me when I told her I loved her. I wasn't lying. And I still mean those words today. I don't think there's been a day since she’s left that I’ve questioned my love for her. I tried moving on, but ending how you feel about someone when it's as strong as I feel for Affton is impossible.
I tried messaging her online again but the ability to message was turned off. My texts to her phone always bounce back as undeliverable. She essentially ended all communication with me without telling me goodbye. Without telling anyone here goodbye. I should have known what she was doing at the funeral, telling everyone she loved them, that something was off. I just assumed it was her finally realizing she belongs here. But those were goodbye hugs.
Knowing her, probably goodbye for fuckin' ever.
“How you doin' over here?” Kinlee walks over and sits on the log next to mine. “You've been starin' at that flame for an hour now and haven't said a word.”
“I'm fine,” I mutter, finishing off my beer.
“That's what Bo says too, but I know he's lyin'.” She smiles at her husband who's walking toward us. “She's gotta figure her shit out eventually.” She shrugs and stands, wrapping her arm around Bo's side.
I glance up at him. ”Hey.” I wish I hadn’t promised Affton I wouldn't tell him about her situation.
I've been sick with fuckin' worry. So worried I’ve been checking the news stations from around where she's living now to hopefully keep tabs on her. And that thought alone makes my stomach roll.
“Tommy,” he says and sits next to me. “Wanted to talk to you about somethin',” he quietly says when Kinlee walks away.
Goddammit.
“Oh yeah?” I spin my empty bottle in my hands. “Somethin' ‘bout work?” I know it's not. I know what he's about to ask and I can't answer him. I refuse to do that to her. Not yet at least.
“No. 'Bout my sister.” He leans his elbows onto his knees and looks over at me.
“Figured that was the case,” I mutter, dropping my head. “Didn't think you cared this much, to be honest.” I'm poking the bull. I know how much he loves his sister. At least how much he used to. I couldn't imagine having a sibling then having them shove me and my family completely out of their lives though.
“Don't try and figure out my relationship with my sister, Tommy,” he says, clamping down his anger, but it's there. “We were close as kids. I know me and you didn't know each other, but when my sister wasn't hangin’ with you, she was hangin’ with me. I wouldn't be alive today if it weren't for that girl.” He drops his head with a huff.
I nod, not knowing what he wanted to talk about other than to make sure I knew he's still the one in this town most worried about her. Claiming...something.
“Yeah, me and you both, Bo.” I shake my head. “I'm heading out soon, what was it you wanted to talk about?” Cut to the chase, I really don't feel like sitting here recalling old memories about a girl I've loved for way too fucking long.
“Shit.” He swipes his hat off his head. “Somethin's wrong with her. There's somethin' goin' on with that girl. I know my sister and I know she can be a bitch. But I know there's somethin' more happenin'. I was hopin' you could shed some light. Drugs? She in some kind of trouble? She take up gamblin'? Why's she doin' this? When she came here she didn't even fuckin' tell me!” He grunts, getting louder. “She went right to you.” He looks at me. “What do you know?”
Those are the most words I think Bo Hart's ever said to me. I watch him, he's gripping a beer can mighty tight and I'm not certain I've ever seen this look of worry that's written across his face. Sure, he worries daily about his wife and kid, but nothing like this.
“I don't know much more than you, Bo.” I sigh. “She's busy with work. Very busy and very stressed. I can promise you it's not drugs or gambling.” At least I'm not lying yet. “I agree something's not right, but she's too far removed from us to confide in any of us.” I shrug, trying to play it off. She was convinced Bo hated her, but it seems to be just the opposite. He loves his sister and the anger and frustration comes out of worry. “I'm sure it's just work stress.” I pat his back. “She'll come around, right? Has Kinlee ever been wrong before?” I try smiling to lighten the mood but there's a rock in
my gut that's made a permanent frown on my face this week.
He sighs and stands. “If you hear anythin', let me know please. I'm worried. I love that girl, as stupid as she's been. She's my only sister and all we really had was each other growin' up. She's independent, but not...like this. There's nothin' I've done to make her hate me like this,” he mutters but before I can say anything, he walks away, going right for his wife's comfort.
She doesn't hate him. This whole thing's one big fuckin' shit show of stubborn, bull-headed adults out to prove something.
I yank my phone out of my pocket, tired of these games. I'll give her a month. One month to get it together. Then I'm taking over this rodeo. I don't think about the ramifications if her husband gets ahold of the message before I hit send.
Tommy Barns: I'm done playing this game. I'll give you a month to figure out what the hell you're going to do with your life. Thirty days. That's it, then I’m coming for you. I'm not waiting around to find your obituary in the paper.
I tap send then exit out of our messages. I'm not sure if it'll even go through to her, but that's her problem. I'm over this fucking show. She's in danger, and I think giving her a month is me being generous.
The next week at work is hell. I've dragged all damn day at the ranch and fought all night just to stay awake at the tattoo shop. Brandt's getting annoyed with it. Chase is getting annoyed with it. Hell, I'm fuckin' annoyed with it but I can't help it.
I'm madly in love with a girl who's being brainwashed. That's what it comes down to. She's been in this situation for so long with no way out and she's been convinced by that fuck-wad that there's no way out.
“You've been lookin' at that horse's ass for thirty minutes now,” Brandt says, tossing his gloves on the workbench and walking over to me, running his hand down Control's mane. He shows the horse more attention than I probably have all day.
“Just workin,” I mutter, my mind flicking to scenes of this Corey guy beating Affton. Made up scenes that all end with her dead by his hands. I feel sick. I've felt sick since she went back to him.
