Two Weeks of Sin

“You’re going to regret every word that came out of your whore mouth. Did you think I was just going to kill you?” he whispered. “Of course not.” A wicked smile came to his lips and I felt a shiver run down my spine. “I’m going to wait right here until that boyfriend of yours comes running. And when he gets here, I’m going to rip him to pieces right in front of your eyes.”

My blood turned cold and I reacted without thinking. I started to scream. It wasn’t a fearful scream, it was an animalistic sound of rage. I pulled at the ropes that held me to the tree and I managed to slam my forehead into his nose.

He howled and stumbled back, holding the broken and bleeding protrusion. “You whore!” he screamed stepping forward.

He wrapped his thick hands around my neck and began to squeeze. I could feel the power and anger in those hands, squeezing and crushing the life out of me. My eyes fluttered and my head lolled as I felt the last of the air slipping from my body. I whimpered weakly and just as the world started to go black he pulled his hands away.

“No, I want you to be awake for this,” he grunted.

I sucked in as much air as my lungs would hold, watching him blankly as he started to tear at my shorts. Soon enough they were around my ankles and he was working at his own belt buckle. Blood was pouring from his nose and I could hear him muttering under his breath.

“If she’s going to act like a whore, I’m going to treat her like one.”

The acidic panic was coming up my throat now and I tried to yank my legs closed but it was no use. Luckily, the rancid, rotting man wouldn’t make it very far.

A gunshot echoed through the forest and an explosion of red filled my sight. Blood splattered my ankles, but it hardly registered. The man fell forward, blood pooling underneath him where the bullet had entered and exited his skull.

I was panting hard, laughter exploding from me out of pure instinct. Nothing in this moment was funny, but it was the only way I could vocalize my relief. I slumped against the ropes, my eyes closed. Before I knew it I was wrapped in warm, safe arms and the sounds of police sirens echoed around the mountains. The police weren’t typically the people Ryan and I would have relied on, but this time we didn’t really have any options.

“Kisha, oh my God Kisha,” he whispered, kissing my face over and over again. “I’m here. I’m here,” he whispered.

The words turned me to mush, and all I could do was collapse against him as he untied me. I eventually managed to pull myself together and give the police a statement. As soon as we were cleared of any crimes, we hopped in the truck to head back to Nashville.

Damien’s convoy never came because the fucker had taken the men out before they could arrive. It was how he managed to find us. Even the strongest man could crack under the right kind of pressure. We hadn’t said much to each other since the rescue and I could feel his eyes on me every few seconds.

“Kisha,” he said softly. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” I said simply, my voice even and relaxed. “I’m not mad.”

“I shouldn’t have left you.”

I took a breath and looked at him. “It’s probably better you did.”

“How can you say that?”

“If you hadn’t gone down the mountain, we would have both been tied to a tree and we’d probably be dead now. It worked out. I’m not mad.”

He was silent for a long time. “How can you be so relaxed?”

“I’m not. I’m shaken up as fuck, but it’s okay. I’m going to be okay and we’re going to be okay.”

Another thick silence. “What did you need to go get in town, anyway?”

“Well, this isn’t the ideal way I wanted you to find out, but no time like the present I suppose.”

He handed me a small hunter green box and when I opened it, there was a delicate diamond ring inside and a small note that simply said.

‘Will you marry me?’

Chapter Fourteen

I said yes of course and in the spring we were married. Despite the horrid events in the mountain, we still went back there for our honeymoon. We weren’t going to let that asshole ruin the place we’d found love.

Our story ended the way so many others do. It was a fairytale, really. We got married, we made love and we had two beautiful daughters who were growing up just as wild and fast as we had. Ryan was teaching them how to play pool and I was teaching them how to drive the little mini bikes we got them for Christmas.

I leaned on the counter, watching as Ryan read to them. It was some outlaw, Western that he had loved growing up and the girls loved it just as much. I smiled softly and disappeared back into the kitchen to toss the first batch of cookies I’d made that night. I’d accidently burned them and had run to the store in order to buy the prepackaged one.

Once we were married, I’d wanted to be a good wife, but cooking was just never a skill I was meant to master. I stacked the cookies on a tray neatly and carried them out to my children and husband, watching Shiloh and Riley squeal with excitement.