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After much discussion, some name-calling, and then an agreement to allow one of the men to use me as he wishes while the other one marries me, decisions have been made. I feel sick to my stomach about the whole thing, but it appears that time is of the essence, as my father announces that the wedding will take place the next evening.
That doesn’t give me much time at all. In fact, I don’t think I’m going to be able to run away like I originally planned. Maybe I should have gone for the hooker route. It seems like that’s essentially what I am anyway. I don’t think it would have mattered either way.
I’m also not let out of my cage.
When the decision is made, all three of the men leave me alone. No food, no bathroom, no water—nothing. I hate them all. I’m not sure how bad Elvis’s group is, but I hope they hurt all these men… badly.
Curling into a ball, I try not to cry, but I fail. No tears fall, because I ran out of those a while ago. Instead, my body jolts and jerks as I cry, my eyes dry but my body heaving. I haven’t completely given up, but I decide I need a few moments to cry and feel sorry for myself.
I’ll get myself together and try to escape when I can, but right now, I just need a moment. My strength will return to me… eventually. I inhale a deep breath, hold it, then slowly let it out.
Opening my eyes, I stare at the doorway. Someone will walk through again eventually. Someone will open the cage eventually. I make a pact with myself that I’m going to say, do, be whatever I need to be to get the fuck out of here.
No limits.
I’ll think about what I’ve done after I’m safe… maybe.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO
SHAWN
I’m not sure how long I stare at the door. It could be a minute, it could be hours, possibly even a day, but when it opens, I let out a sigh of relief. It’s my father, not either of the men who came in here to fight over me, then made an agreement to use me as they saw fit.
All this my father had no issues with, although why would he? I have a feeling he does the same shit. The thought grosses me out completely, but I know what my mother is like, and she would be totally down for it all.
“You ready for your wedding?” he asks as he moves into the room.
I realize in this moment that I don’t even know his name. I don’t know my own father’s name, and I’m not sure why that hits me in a particular way, but it does. I don’t think I really care too much, but the thought is there right in front of me anyway.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
I’m sure my question sounds more like a demand, but again, I don’t give much of a fuck. No part of me cares about any part of him. If I’m a bitch to him, or my tone is disrespectful toward him, nada, nothing.
He literally is nothing to me, and I respect no part of him.
Not a single ounce of him.
“It’s Shade. Not that it matters to you,” he chuckles. “After tonight, I won’t see you again.”
“What?” I ask.
“Wives don’t come to the clubhouse.”
I don’t ask how those assholes planned on sharing me if it wasn’t going to be here. I honestly don’t care because they’ll never get the opportunity. I think about asking him why wives don’t come to the clubhouse, but then I realize that opens me up to being able to get the fuck out of whatever house they leave me at while my new husband is going to be here doing whatever the hell they do here.
I almost squeal with delight but decide against it. This isn’t the time, and I try really hard to hide my reaction.
“They don’t?” I ask, trying to sound genuinely concerned.
“Nope,” he says, popping the p before he continues. “Your mom hated that shit. It’s why we didn’t work out.”
I could imagine my mother would hate the fact that he was out partying while she was stuck at home with two kids. Neither of whom she wanted in the slightest, I’m sure. “I could see that,” I mutter.
“Yeah, she was wild. Didn’t want to be tamed, but when she got knocked up, she didn’t have a fucking choice.”
“Then you left,” I point out.
