Wife Number Seven (The Compound, #1)(21)

“I am,” I said in a low voice, then glanced around me.

“Be right back. There’s something you need to know.”

Oh no. Did Lehi know about my pills? Had Rebecca shared my secret?

Birth control was strictly forbidden and grounds for removal from the church. Children were a blessing, and a woman’s reason for life. We were to conceive, birth, and raise our children in the service of our husbands and the prophet. Preventing pregnancy was unforgivable.

I knew that the day I accepted Tiffany’s offer to get me a prescription. The day I placed that first pink pill in my mouth and washed it down with water, I knew I was sinning.

Maybe Porter was right about me after all. Maybe I was the type to resist. Maybe I wanted to be caught.

Maybe . . .

“Listen.” Tiffany lowered her voice as she placed the small bag on the counter. “Do you remember a boy named Porter?”

Shocked to hear that name that ignited something deep within my belly, I bit back a gasp and nodded.

“You don’t seem surprised to hear his name.” Tiffany crossed her arms in front of her chest, a knowing smile on her face.

My face burned as I slipped the pills into my purse. “I ran into him about a month ago.”

“Well, he came here, asking about you.”

“What? Here?”

“He knew,” she said, lowering a pointed glance at my bag. “About the pills. He knew where they came from.”

“Oh.” Terror swept over me, chilling me to the bone. “What did he say? Is he going to tell Lehi?”

She shook her head. “No, nothing like that. He wanted to know about you, like when you’d be here next. Stuff like that.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I think he was hoping to run into you again.” She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head meaningfully in my direction. I had no idea what she was trying to convey with that expression.

“Really?” The thought of seeing Porter again made my mouth dry and my palms sweat. A rush of moisture hit my private parts, and I clenched my thighs in response.

Tiffany’s smile faded, and her eyes turned stern as she said, “Just be careful. He’s a junkie.”

“A junkie?” I didn’t know that word or what it meant.

“He’s a drug addict, Brinley.”

“Oh.” I covered my mouth with my hand as I attempted to hide my disappointment. “How can you tell?”

“He’s been in here before, trying to get clean. But I could see it in his eyes. He’s far from it.”

Her words were boulders weighing on the dreams I’d had for weeks. I was such a silly girl. I’d been dreaming of a man who was possessed by the devil. Drugs were the gateway to possession; everyone in our church knew that. Only lost and weak souls would succumb to them, those who didn’t deserve God’s mercy. They were the damned, the forgotten.

But something told me I wouldn’t be able to forget Porter Hammond. No matter how damned his soul might be.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Tiffany said, her voice stern. “It’s not true. He’s not damned.”

Feeling angry and defensive that she’d read me so easily, I blurted out, “You only say that because you are too.”

The words left my lips before I had the chance to stop them. Tiffany recoiled, her hand covering her gasp.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, shaking my head as I reached my hand across the counter, hoping she’d accept it. And with it, my apology.

She didn’t. A tear tracked down her cheek and she wiped it with the back of her sleeve.

“You should go,” she said curtly, looking through me. “It’s going to be crowded soon. I need to get back to work.”

“Tiff—”

“Just go.” She shook her head, turned on her heel, and walked through the swinging door to the back room.

I left the clinic not knowing if I could, or would, ever return.

? ? ?

When I stepped outside the clinic, I had a choice. I could do what was expected, keep sweet and return home, or I could let my anger be my guide. How dare Porter ruin my relationship with Tiffany, my one connection to the outside world, the one person I could count on outside of my confined existence within the compound. I had no idea if Tiffany would ever speak to me again after what I’d just said to her, and it was all his fault.

All of it.

I made my choice and walked the two blocks to his apartment over the coffeehouse. My chest heaved as I climbed the stairs, my anger growing inside me with each step. By the time I pounded my fist on his door, my face was hot, and I almost lost my nerve when a girl answered the door.

“Yes?” The girl stared at me with pity in her eyes. Her hair was short, almost like a boy’s, but there was no doubt she was a girl. A tiny tank top exposed the cleavage of her breasts while her shirt crept up her midsection, revealing a ring through her belly button.

Ouch. Doesn’t that hurt? Does she have no respect for the sanctity of her body?

“Um, I’m here to see—”

“Who is it?” a voice called from inside.

Porter.

Part of me wanted to run, but I was still angry so I stood my ground.

“I don’t know, but she’s not from around here,” the girl said, stifling a laugh.