Wife Number Seven (The Compound, #1)(46)

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Porter said, his words insistent. “I have choices now that I never thought I’d have. I’m in control of my life. There’s nothing better.”

“Tell me more. Please.” I reached out and linked my fingers through his, wanting to be close to him, curious about his life in the outside world. “What were your first days like? You know, here in this apartment.”

“Charlie was awesome. He was happy to have me here. Hooked me up with a job, eventually. But I swear I played video games for like two days straight. I’d never seen anything like it. And the movies. Oh my God. The first time Charlie and I went to the theater, I was dying. Seriously. I had this big tub of popcorn, a giant Coke, all this candy. Shit cost me a huge chunk of the money from my parents, but I didn’t care. I saw this awesome movie with all these special effects and shit. It was incredible.”

“I’ll bet.” I smiled. I had almost no idea what he was talking about, but his excitement, his passion about life outside the compound was intoxicating.

He stared off into space again, but this time with a contented smile on his face. It was infectious. I found my lips turning up as I watched him reminisce.

“I want to feel what you’re feeling,” I said without thinking.

“Don’t say that, Brin. Not until you’re sure.” He looked back at me, his expression hard. “Are you sure?”

I shook my head, compelled to be honest. I wanted to feel the elation that clearly came with experiencing life outside the compound, but I wasn’t brave enough to take that leap.

Not yet.

We sat in silence before I braved the question I had wanted to ask him for days.

“Our compound . . . it’s so painful for you, but you came to see me anyway. Why did you do that?”

He paused, looking at me with surprise on his handsome face. “Don’t you already know the answer to that?”

Again, I shook my head.

Porter cleared his throat, taking a deep breath. “That place . . . it’s my hell. But I’d go into hell for you, Brin, no questions asked. I’d do it again and again to make you mine.”

“But I am,” I insisted, tracing his chin with my fingertips. “I’m already yours.”

Porter sighed and positioned himself above me, rolling me to my back once again. His lips pressed to mine, then moved to my chin, my neck, my collarbone. The sensations made me tremble, and the throbbing of my private area resumed.

Again? So soon? How is that possible?

“I want you,” I whispered. “So badly.”

“No,” Porter insisted, pulling away.

“Why?”

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and stared into my eyes. “I have to say something . . . and it might seem weird.”

“Okay,” I replied, confused.

“I can’t sleep with you, knowing that in a few days you’ll be sleeping with him. I can’t share you. I won’t.”

“Porter, I ca—”

“Do you enjoy f*cking him?” he spat out.

“Fucking?” I’d heard Porter use the curse word before, but never as a verb. Honestly, sometimes talking with him was like having a conversation with someone from a foreign country.

He rolled his eyes. “Sex. Do you like having sex with him?”

“You know the answer to that,” I said with a frown.

How could he possibly think I enjoyed my time with Lehi? It was my duty, my obligation. It was never for my enjoyment.

“Okay, so—?”

Unsure of his meaning, I shrugged.

“Stop sleeping with him,” he said flatly.

“I have no choice.” I sat straight up in Porter’s bed, scooting down to the edge to retrieve my dress.

“Yes, you do. There’s always a way. We just have to find it.”

“It’s my job, Porter. I’m supposed to produce a baby for him. It’s my entire reason for being.”

“That’s what they want you to think, Brin, but it’s not true. You’re here on this earth to be you. That’s all.”

“I wish it were that simple. Lehi expects . . . no, he demands a baby.”

The long underwear felt like a straitjacket against my skin. But I ignored the suffocation of the garment, buttoning it all the way to the top.

“So, give him one,” Porter said, his eyes widening as if he was finally making sense of the universe.

But I was still clueless. I didn’t want a baby with Lehi.

“No!” I shouted. “I’m on the pill, Porter. I don’t want—”

“That’s not what I meant. I wasn’t being literal.”

“I’m confused.” I gritted my teeth as I fastened the buttons of my dress.

“Lie.”

“What?” I gasped. How could Porter ask me to lie?

“Make it up. Tell him you’re pregnant.”

“But I—”

“No, listen, it’s all making sense to me now.” Porter stood and paced the room as he spoke. “Lehi follows the doctrine, right? He doesn’t sleep with his pregnant wives, right?”

I nodded. When any sister wife of mine had been pregnant, Lehi did not lay with her. In fact, he didn’t even share her bed. He’d check in with her from time to time, but would spend his nights with the wives who could give him the release he sought in the bedroom.