Chapter 29

Coleson

I’m pretty sure I still have pink glitter and chalk in my hair.

Maverick will be a girl dad, and by the way he whooped and hollered once his hockey stick hit the puck full of glitter, it was easy to see he was excited about the gender. I’m not sure why I was disappointed since I won’t be around him to be in the kid’s life, but I really wanted it to be a boy. Not that I can’t teach a girl to be a great hockey player, but I wanted to have the opportunity to be a hockey mentor to a boy since I never had one before now. Thinking of Coach, I realize I didn’t see him at the party, which was surprising. He usually tries to come to these kinds of things, but maybe something came up. I don’t know, but I’d kinda hoped he would have been there to meet my wife.

I hold her hand in mine, and I have snuck glances at her at least thirty times while we’ve been in the truck. Ever since we walked away from Elliot, I’ve had question after question. I just don’t know if I have the right to ask. I feel like asking her would make this more real than it’s already becoming. It makes me anxious, but I want to know her. Desperately.

Even though the silence between us is comfortable, I rub my thumb along her knuckles. “I guess we both wore blue for nothing.”

A sputter of laughter leaves her lips. “I guess, but I love this dress, so I’m okay with it.”

“It is a beautiful dress. Though, I think that only because the person wearing it is so beautiful.”

She side-eyes me and giggles. “Well, thank you. Did I tell you I made it?”

My jaw goes slack at that, and I’m thoroughly impressed. “No way.”

“Yeah. I made it a couple years ago for Louisa, but it didn’t fit her right, so I altered it for me.”

“Wow,” I say, nodding. “I didn’t know you could make clothes.”

“Yeah. I grew up making clothes for all of us.”

I bring in my brows. “For fun? Because since your grandfather owns a hockey team, I’m sure money wasn’t an issue.”

She doesn’t answer right away, and when I glance at her, she’s chewing on her lip. “I didn’t grow up with my peepaw in my life. I’m not sure if we had money or not, but I was raised in a community almost like the Amish.”

My brows furrow more. “Really? That’s neat.”

“Hardly,” she laughs, shaking her head. I note that there is absolutely no humor in her laughter, which confuses me.

“What do you mean? I’ve always been intrigued by Amish folks. The whole simple life seems nice.”

If I were Amish, pictures of my cock and the endless gossip wouldn’t have been an issue. But I have an obsession with electricity that I don’t think I can give up. She fiddles with the back of my hand, drawing circles around my knuckles. “While, yes, it was nice to grow up playing outside and making our own dresses, food, and crafts, I was subjected to a lot of abuse.”

I whip my head to hers. “Excuse me?” She hesitates, her eyes on my hand as she continues to draw her circles. “You were abused?”

She swallows hard. “While I describe it as an Amish kind of thing, it was actually a cult.”

I feel like the air is knocked out of me. “You’re kidding.”

Of course, I’ve watched every documentary on cults, and none of them are ever good. Surely my wife was not subjected to such a thing. She’s so pure, so kind. How could she have that kind of past? But she nods, her eyes still not meeting mine even though I keep looking between her and the road.

“No, I’m not kidding. I was born into a cult called New Beginnings. Though, there wasn’t any kind of new beginning, only men owning women. My mother is still a part of it. Peepaw spent my whole life trying to find us, and every time he did, the group would move. We didn’t understand why he was trying to save us until the abuse started. Thankfully, Elliot and Clara weren’t subjected to much of it. Louisa did everything she could to make sure that didn’t happen and took a lot of the abuse herself.”

I’m speechless, and my heart is beating so hard, the vibration is making my vison blurry.

Someone hurt my wife?

Without thought, I ask, “Who?”

“Huh?” she asks, looking at me finally.

I stop at a stoplight, thankfully, and meet her gaze full on. “Who. The. Fuck. Hurt. You?”

Her breath hitches as she holds my gaze. Her mouth moves, but nothing is coming out as her eyes burn into mine. When a horn sounds, I growl in anger before hitting the gas and then pulling off onto the shoulder. I throw the truck into park and then meet her stunned gaze. “Wife,” I demand, and her eyes widen more.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Was it a man or a woman?”

“Men,” she answers, and I’m not okay with the fact that the word is plural. “But it doesn’t matter. I got away from them.”

“Men?” I bite out, my heart slamming in my chest, making it real hard to breathe.

“Yes, but it’s all over.”

“I don’t care. What do you mean, men? How many?”

Her lip trembles, and I reach for her seat belt, unbuckling it and then pulling her into my lap. She comes willingly, and I push the lever to move my seat back so I can wrap her in my arms. I tuck her head under my chin and feel her fighting back a sob. “Talk to me, Wife.”

She nuzzles into my chest, and quietly, she whispers, “There was this ritual when we were of age, usually when we first started our periods. We’d be forced to stand in the middle of the hall, in only our underwear, as men looking for partners would circle us and decide if they wanted us. They could touch us and do whatever they pleased. If you fought, they’d bite you to keep you in line. The leader said it was how male animals controlled their females and that was how we needed to be treated. We were treated as objects, something to own, and I accepted a lot of the abuse because I’d watch Louisa and Austen get the shit bitten out of them. Or beat up. Louisa has the most awful scars along her back, and I have some too, but not nearly as bad as Louisa and Austen.”

“Fucking hell,” I mutter, my heart racing as I plant kisses along the top of her head.

“I made it out, though, mostly because of Austen and Peepaw. But we escaped, and I don’t even think much about it anymore. Therapy helped a lot, and I think because I was so quiet and didn’t put up much of a fight, no one really paid me any mind. Not when Austen and Louisa were causing a fuss at every turn, trying so desperately to protect us.”

My heart is in my throat. I can’t believe this woman in my arms is my wife. She is a fighter, and she’s all mine. I should want to put space between us, yet I hold her closer, not only to comfort her, but because I fucking want her in my arms so she knows I’m here.

“Are they the reason for you needing the toilet enclosed?” I ask, my stomach in knots.

She nods slowly. “One of the guys would sneak into the communal bathroom and find ways to watch me. One time…” She pauses, and I squeeze her tighter to me. I close my eyes as I nuzzle my face in her neck, kissing her softly. She exhales before whispering, “He had jumped into the stall with me once, and he pulled out his cock to get himself off. I was in the middle of taking a shit, and he exploded all over me.” Rage burns inside me. “It messed me up so badly that I wouldn’t go to the bathroom for days at a time. I almost died of dehydration once because I wouldn’t eat or drink.”

“What the fuck,” I mutter against her hair. “That’s fucking sick.”

She shrugs. “I tried to turn him in, but the leader didn’t care. He had the right to see if I was worth his time. We were nothing to them. Not women, not even people, really. Just something to own.”

I don’t even understand the anger that burns within me. I want to rip their heads from their bodies and play hockey with the bloody skulls. “I’ll call my friend and see if he can come earlier to fix the bathroom.” I don’t say it out loud, but I won’t tease her anymore about it either. I wouldn’t have done it thus far if I had known.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“Thank you,” she whispers against my skin. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me or do anything like that. It just brings back bad memories.”

“I know, and I don’t want that.” I kiss her jaw. “Tell me who they are. I’ll find them all.”

She shrugs. “They don’t matter.”

“They do. I want to kill them for hurting you.”

“Coleson, stop. They don’t matter. I’m good. I promise.”

“Still, if I ever come across the assfucks, I will beat their asses.” Her breathy giggle has me going tight everywhere. “I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again,” I whisper against her hair. “I promise.”

She pulls back, tipping her head back to meet my gaze. “Don’t promise me that.”

I bring in my brows. “Why?”

“Because you’re going to hurt me.”

“Eliza,” I bite out, and once more, her sweet eyes widen. “Don’t say that. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“But you will.”

Her eyes search mine, and everything inside me wants to promise her I won’t. That I don’t want this to end. But I can’t say that. She deserves better than me. I’m nothing but a whore’s son with a reputation that doesn’t ever seem to change. Her certainty of me hurting her only means she still wants me, and I don’t understand that. Did she not see what happened at the party? The looks we received, the tongue-lashing from Payton. How could she even allow herself to want me or have feelings for me? I’m not worth her time. I hate that I’m bringing her down because of who I am, but when she looks at me like she is now, I don’t feel like the guy my reputation says I am. I feel like I could be hers. That I am enough.

That’s a dangerous thing.

My wife deserves the world. She got away from a fucking cult and is the strongest, most gorgeous woman I have ever met in my life. She brightens my day and makes it really hard to keep her at arm’s length. As much as I don’t want it to, I think my past has ruined my future. I’ll always be the guy who was found with a teammate’s wife.

And Eliza is better than that.