Chapter 2

2

LIBBY

T he harsh wind burns against my skin through my open window. I attempt to collect some of the snow that has fallen on the window ledge and place it into the small plastic bag I have. When I have enough, I quietly close the window, not wanting anyone to hear.

I spin the bag to secure it before pressing it against my swollen, cracked lip. “Crappers,” I hiss at the sting. It’s been a while since my father hit me, but he has been in a rage since he found out that my sister, Winter, is gone. I anticipated that I might get some blowback from her escaping this life, but my hope is that it will be worth it in the end. There is no doubt in my mind that she will come back for me.

“Libby!” he shouts, and the bedroom door flies open, hitting the wall with a loud bang, startling me. The bag falls from my hand to the floor. “I heard the window open.”

“I was only getting some snow.” I point to the bag. I can’t bring myself to move. My father terrifies me. I often can’t move when he goes into one of his rages. Panic usually sets in and freezes my whole body. It’s been that way since the time he shoved me off the back deck, when he was merely passing by me after storming out of the house from a fight he had with Mother.

I landed on my leg, and it snapped. To this day, I swear I can still feel phantom pains from where the scar is. My limp is a daily reminder. He hadn't taken me to the hospital. No, that would never happen, no matter how hard Winter begged him. That had earned her a few hits of her own, but Winter always put herself in front of him when it came to me. She’s the best person I know. I miss her like crazy.

“Martha!” my father shouts. “Bring me my work bag.”

My fear starts to rise, not sure what he is up to. His work bag is full of tools. “You think you’re going to run away too?” I shake my head no rapidly. I’d never make it. Not on my leg. That’s why Winter had gone alone. She was supposed to get help.

“Here you go.” My mother comes rushing in to hand my father the bag. She is always quick to do his bidding. I often wonder if she hated Winter and me or if she feared my father more. I think it’s a mix of both. I almost get her not trying to save us in front of him because she could get his wrath too. But she never offers comfort when he isn’t around either.

“You know we found her,” Father says as he rummages through the bag. My heart sinks. No, he couldn't have. “She’ll be back here soon enough.” He smirks when he pulls out a hammer and then a couple of nails. “Stupid girls.” Father goes to the window and starts to hammer the nails into it.

How had they found her? Where is she then? My mind races with so many questions, but I don’t dare utter any of them. I was filled with worry when she took off. The snowstorm had only just started, but it was her only chance. In just a few days, she would marry the prophet Joseph. Winter was set to become his third wife, but in a way, his second.

The first died, and the second had yet to give Joseph a child. She had to leave to spare herself that life with him. She was on his radar. I, on the other hand, don't have to worry about that. Most of the people here see me as broken or defective.

Joseph is no prophet. He is the devil himself, if you ask me. Not to mention, Winter and I are pretty sure he killed his first wife. She just disappeared one day. No one talked about it. We all knew better than to ask. Joseph can do no wrong in the eyes of most people here.

I wasn't surprised when he asked Winter to marry him. Well, ask is putting it nicely. It wasn't really a question. It was more a formality to Father. No one says no to the “prophet.” I honestly think most of the men here would give Joseph their own wives if it was something he wanted. All of it done in the name of God. He’s a coward who uses religion to have power.

I think my sister is the prettiest girl on the compound. That can be a curse around here. Because of my leg, I have yet to be asked for my hand in marriage. How could I both hate and love my limp? But that is my reality.

“The wedding will go on as planned,” my mother adds. She was all too happy to hand her daughter over to the disgusting man.

I want to ask a million questions, but I know better. Not only would I face punishment, but I wouldn't receive the answers either. I have to bite the inside of my cheek so I don’t. I can ramble when I’m nervous or excited. I seem to have two modes. I’m either as quiet as a church mouse or I can’t shut up. There is no in-between.

My mother stands in the doorway, glaring at me. I’m sure she’s mad about my father being in a terrible mood. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s been taking it out on her, the one person who would do anything for him. Even sell out her own kids to make him happy.

“Don’t get any ideas,” my father says when he hammers the last nail into place. “Understand?” He uses the hammer to point at me.

“Yes, sir,” I answer. He gives me a curt nod before turning to go but stops in the doorway. “Don’t forget to say your prayers.” With that, he closes the door. I hear the lock click into place.

I fall back onto my bed, huffing out a breath. The simple action makes my lip sting. I hate them so much. I’m trapped, and if what my father said is true, soon Winter will be too. I should have told her to just leave me behind, to not worry about getting help. At least one of us could have been free.

Warm tears slip down my cheeks. I don’t bother wiping them away. I roll over and pull a pillow into my arm. I bury my face in it. I must doze off at some point. When I wake, I can see that it’s daylight out. The snow is still coming down. I listen but don’t hear anything. If they really found Winter, wouldn’t they bring her back here?

Crap, I’m honestly not sure what they would do. I pull myself from my bed, going over to the window. My leg aches with every step. It’s always the worst when I first wake up. The cold doesn’t help it either.

You can’t see much with the snow still falling so heavily, but I do notice there are some people out and about in the far distance. Our house sits a touch higher than some of the other buildings and homes on the compound.

I jump back from the window when I hear a yelp that is quickly cut off. I stand there waiting to hear more, but there is absolutely no other sound. If my father was going at it with my mother, there would be yelling and more, but it’s utterly quiet.

When I check the door handle, it’s still locked from the day before. I debate whether I should unlock it. My sister taught me how, but then I would get busted for knowing how to pick the lock.

My eyes catch a shadow in front of my door. I quickly step back, forgetting that my leg is still stiff. I nearly lose my balance, but I manage to steady myself by gripping the dresser, just in time to hear the lock click before the door opens.

I see the last thing I’d ever thought I would see again. I recognize the man from the town I visited with my father months ago. It’s so shocking to see him here that it takes me a moment to catch up with everything else. Such as the gun in his hand. My mother is standing next to him with fear written all over her face.

“Get warm clothes on,” he says when he finally speaks. “In.” The man, brandishing his gun, motions for my mother to enter the room. She quickly does as he orders. He steps in behind her, closing the door. “Libby, get dressed and put shoes on.” How the heck does he know my name? Maybe I’m still sleeping and this is all a dream. I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve dreamt of the handsome stranger. “We have to get moving.” His deep voice sends a shiver through my body, letting me know I’m definitely not asleep.

“But—” I open and close my mouth, finally getting my wits about me. “It’s you.” I could never have forgotten him. It was an unforgettable experience. Father never allowed us to go to town, but on that particular day, the other boys were too busy to assist in picking up an order from the hardware store, so he took Winter and me instead.

We were leaving after getting everything loaded up, and I spotted him across the way. It was his size that initially caught my attention. I’d never seen a man built like him. He was solid. Even his height is unmatched. Compared to this man, every man on the compound looks like a damn skeleton.

More than anything, it was his eyes that captured my attention. They’d stayed locked with mine. I’d felt attraction in a way I never had. Who am I kidding? I have never experienced attraction toward anyone. I’m surrounded by terrible men.

“It’s me. Now I need you to get dressed. We’re getting out of here.”

“What!” my mother hisses. “You can’t take her.”

“I told you I’d gag you if you didn’t shut up.” My mother presses her lips together tightly. “Libby.”

“I can’t go with you. I don’t know you.” It’s a stupid thing to say. I want the hell out of here, but there are still fears of people from the outside. They’re dangerous. They are all going to hell for their sinful ways. That rhetoric has been driven into us for so long. Plus, Winter. If Father is to bring her back here, I can’t leave. I would never be able to live a happy life thinking about what consequences she would be suffering for running away.

“You’re coming with me.” His tone holds no argument. When I don’t move, I see a muscle in his jaw tick. “Winter sent me.” Both my mother and I gasp. “Now move it.”

As quickly as I can, I search for a sweater to put over my dress. It goes all the way down to my ankles.

“You don’t have pants?”

“No.” I shake my head at the ridiculous question. “That’s sinful.” I hate my words the second they cross my lips. His brows pull together. “Against the rules here.”

He mutters under his breath a few curse words that I have only ever heard when other men didn’t know I was in earshot. My mother glares at him, but he clearly doesn’t care.

“Shoes, babe,” he orders again. I scurry to get them. Did he really call me babe? Isn’t that a flirty pet name shared between lovers?

When I glance over at him, I see him watching my every step. His expression has changed. I can tell he's irritated and maybe a bit pissed off. In our world, you learn to read men.

It dawns on me that he’s probably noticing my limp. He probably is annoyed that it’s taking me so long. It makes my heart drop, which is silly. I guess I had this lingering hope that he was attracted to me too. He clearly remembered me from that day.

My limp is the reason I have not been offered a marriage proposal. I’m damaged goods, as my father would say. However, he never seemed particularly upset about it. I would simply remain here, he said. Does my father forget he is the one that did this to me? I’m sure not. He’d say it was God’s will if it was thrown in his face. I hate when they said that.

I sit on my bed to put on my shoes. I can’t just balance on one foot. That would put too much pressure on my bad leg.

“Anything else you need?”

“My sister.”

“We’ve got her.” I want to ask who we is. Heck, I want to ask a million questions, but this isn’t the time. “She’s your mother?” I nod my head. “Does she stay or go?”

“Stay,” I say without a thought.

“Figured. She’s been a bitch.” My mother's mouth falls open. I cover mine so as to not laugh out loud. I have to admit that it’s nice to see her get a taste of her own damn medicine.

She wasn't averse to occasional slaps to the cheek. I don't know why, but she has always shown more disdain for me than she did for Winter. Sure, she was mean to us both, but with me, it was another level. I never understood why.

“Let’s go.” Those two words are the sweetest I’ve ever heard.

“You can’t take her.” My mother grabs my elbow as I walk by. Her fingers dig into me, making me wince.

“You don’t dictate what she can and cannot do.”

“She’s a young girl. My daughter.”

“I have a feeling you were no mother to her.” He steps closer to her. I swear I can feel his anger radiating off him. Is it on my behalf? Only Winter ever cared what happened to me. “Now let her go before I physically make you.” Not only does she release my elbow, but she steps back.

“Come on, darling.” His hand, no longer gripping the gun, moves to my back, guiding me out of the bedroom. He closes it behind us, flipping the lock before he pulls out a metal piece, slipping it into the lock and turning it. It snaps off inside, so no key can be used to open it back up. They’ll have to break the door down.

“Why'd you do that?”

“To give us time. With the window being nailed shut, she’s trapped.”

“How did you know that?”

“I tried it first.” He tried to come in my window. “Questions later. We need to get out of here.”

I nod in agreement. I would go anywhere with him.