Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Briar

(Five Years Ago)

My world’s consumed with misogyny. It’s a frigid place where men rule, and women take the scraps thrown at them. But I don’t want to be one of these women. I want to rule my life how I deem fit. To be the narrator of my story. The captain of my ship, holding onto the sails and forging them with might to face strong winds and survive. Women in my world don’t survive; they eventually get beaten until nothing remains of who they once were.

So as the warm breeze caresses my hair, and the leaves from the tree branches dance in the wind, I run so I don’t lose who I am.

Ezra would say his life’s no better because he can’t make the choices he wants. But at least he will never be a commodity, sold to the highest bidder to enhance the family’s assets. They don’t consider women in my world human. We’re pawns on the chessboard, sacrificed for the king and his survival.

“Run, Fawn, run!” Words Ezra yelled when we chased each other through the maze of trees surrounding the property all those years ago.

One of my favorite things about this manor was that we had all this room to run, hide, and play. This is where we were kids with no care in the world. We had a good childhood. The two of us were kept away from the realities of our fathers’ corrupt, sinister dealings and shielded from the cruel reality of the world we were born into.

We used to laugh with pure joy as Ezra chased me through the trees, tackling me to the ground as we both rolled in the dirt. It was a simpler time. We weren’t worried about what would happen to us. We weren’t worried about the life we were born into or the crimes they would force us to endure. Back then, we didn’t understand that our lives were bound by blood and corruption. We had no knowledge of how we would protect the biggest perversions for the sake of the “greater good”—all for a world that should burn to a pile of ashes.

“What do you think will happen when I catch you, Fawn?” Ezra yells.

He sounds like an animal, something primal and wild. I hesitate over my current situation and the choice I just made. Four years ago, I would have trusted Ezra with my life. I wouldn’t have even blinked at it.

But something changed when I hit the age of fourteen. Suddenly, Ezra didn’t want to be my friend anymore. He had no desire to chase or sit and laugh with me. I went from being his best friend to an inconvenience he had to deal with because our fathers were best friends and business partners. But the way he kissed me back there, and the bolts of electricity that surged between us, tell me that as much as Ezra acts like I’m a rash that forcibly penetrated his skin, that kiss called him a liar.

I weave between two trees, jumping over large rocks buried in the ground. “I’m assuming you’ll fuck me like you did all those college girls.”

Ezra’s laugh booms through the air, mocking me. “You’ve been keeping track, Fawn? I’m touched.”

“You wish,” I bark, desperate to hide the sting of his words.

I don’t know if he’s been with one girl or a hundred. I’ve avoided his social media like the plague since he went to college. It’s one thing to be infatuated with him, but I don’t need to send fresh bullets blasting at my heart through brutal voyeurism. Emotional masochism was never my thing.

As I jump between two wild shrubs, the branch of one whips at my leg, making me stumble. “Dammit.”

“Fawn,” Ezra’s voice is panicked behind me. “Don’t move. You might have hurt yourself.”

I jump up quickly, ignoring the new slash on my calf, and start running. “I’m not made of glass, Ezra. A branch won’t break me.”

“No, but I will when I catch you for not listening to me.”

“Am I supposed to take you seriously? My father just sold me like I was a piece of property. I’m confident that whatever you do to me will be a welcome relief.” I grab onto a tree and start moving my legs up the trunk. This was so much easier when I was a kid.

A warm hand wraps around my ankle. “You gonna come down on your own, Fawn? Trust me, you won’t like the alternative.”

“You don’t seem to get it, Ezra.” My foot connects with his handsome, chiseled face, making him stagger back. “I don’t want to hear another man tell me what to do. I want to fuckin’ fight.”

Ezra drops my foot and rubs where I kicked him a second ago. I take the leverage the moment gives me to grip a branch and work my way up. I make a small amount of leeway when there’s a tug at the back of my dress. Resisting the pull, I concentrate on my task when my dress is torn from my body, and I’m left moving up the tree in my underwear.

“Lace and black, Fawn? I’m a little disappointed. I always thought you’d be a white cotton panties girl.” His arms wrap around my thighs, constricting my movement. “Fall back, Briar. I got you.”

Briar. He’s calling me Briar. Ezra isn’t taking me seriously. He started this game, and now he won’t see it through. Just like everyone else, he thinks I’m a joke.

I kick my legs out as my hands grip a thick hanging branch.

Ezra’s hands trail up my legs and dip into my panties. “Fawns are no match for bears.”

My arms tremble as he glides the pad of his finger along my slit and presses down on my clit. I’ve touched myself before, even made myself come, but I’ve never experienced anything like Ezra’s touch. I’m unsure if it’s because I’ve had feelings for him my entire life or because he’s the first man to touch me this way. But at this moment, I’m pretty sure I’ll do anything to chase this high for the rest of my life. Sounds pathetic. All he did was touch my core, and I’ve become an addict.

“Look at you, Fawn, dripping for me. How long have you thought about having me fuck you like the pretty slut you are?”

I should be livid at his words. Who the fuck is he to call me a slut? Yet that degrading word out of Ezra Walker’s mouth makes me feel alive … and horny. I like it. There’s a power in being called words that women like me would never be called. I’m precious, sweet—a woman who knows her place and will make a man a wonderful wife someday. Yet at this moment, as Ezra calls me a slut, I have power. The type of control I never dreamed I’d possess.

Ezra keeps the pad of his thumb on my clit while inserting two fingers into me. He pushes and drags them against my inner walls, a little tease to show me the endless possibilities. “You smell good, Briar.”

I glance down and watch as he pulls a pair of pink panties from his pocket. My pink panties.

He places the fabric on his face. His eyes shut, and he inhales. “I’ve always loved your scent. But with your fresh cunt so close, I realize I was only getting a wish version with your panties.”

Ezra has been stealing my panties? “You barely acknowledge me, but you steal my underwear?”

“I might not find you interesting, but my dick gets hard for you.”

I hate him yet love him; I never want to see him again, but I also want to bury myself in his skin so we’ll never be apart. Everything about Ezra Walker ruins me and rejuvenates me. “Go fuck yourself.”

Ezra shoves the panties back into his pocket and smirks. The hand broadcasting my panties a moment ago now glides up my leg in a promise wrapped in passion and sin. “As enjoyable as that can be, I’d rather be fucking you.”

The slow seduction of his fingers speeds up. I’m not sure I can hold on to the branch as he uses his hand to hit every vulnerable nerve ending in my body. He’s obviously had a ton of practice and knows how a woman’s body works. My head falls back as I lose myself in the moment.

“I always knew I’d be the one to break you in.”

The little fucker. “What makes you believe you’re the first to do shit?”

“I’m all your firsts, Briar. That kiss back there on the forest floor. That was your first, too.”

I freeze. “Never pegged you as someone delusional.”

“Fawn, you can lie to yourself. You can tell others all your fabrications, but we both know there’s no one other than me for you.”

I scream into oblivion as he adds a third finger. My hands shift on the branch, but I hold on by sheer willpower.

“You may hate it, but this sweet cunt will always belong to me.”

The pain is pleasurable and excruciating. I don’t know how porn stars handle those large dicks, let alone multiple at once. The metallic taste of blood floods my mouth. I’ve bitten down on my bottom lip to avoid letting him know that everything he’s said is the truth. I don’t want him to know that there’s been no one other than him in my entire life.

“It’s okay, Fawn. You were a first for me too. The first time I got a boner was from you. It disgusted me.”

I want to run, hide, and cry. The pain of his words is like shards of glass scraping across the thousand pieces of my broken heart. Throughout my life, I’ve had a lot of painful vitriol lodged at me, but Ezra Walker telling me I’m disgusting is what breaks me.

My body finally reacts, no longer under the hypnotic trance induced by Ezra’s touch. The impact of his words on my most vital organs forces my feet back, and I kick him directly in the face. Ezra stumbles back, his hand shielding his nose.

“I hope I broke your precious nose,” I yell as I jump from the tree and run.

Relief washes over me—he didn’t yank down my underwear. My feet kick up the dirt as I run deeper into the forest.

“Fawn, you better hope you’re faster than me.”

His footsteps edge closer, and I scan the trees, trying to distinguish the best one to climb. I’ve always been the better climber of the two of us. Even as kids, Ezra could never get to me if I climbed high. It drove my mother crazy when I came home with ripped dresses. She told me that no man would be interested in a whore. I was seven years old, and she talked to me about men and my label to them.

A fresh surge of anger takes over, and I see red. “I don’t need to be faster than you, Ezra. All I have to be is smarter.”

I spot an elm tree with thick, large branches. Perfect. I sprint toward it, hearing a loud thud before a vise clamps around my right ankle.