Wife Number Seven (The Compound, #1)(58)

“Then why?” He paused and his brows drew together. “Why won’t you stay?”

“I’m terrified, Porter. So terrified that if I stayed here with you, you’d grow tired of me, and then where would I be? All on my own. I’m not ready for that.”

“What makes you think I could ever get tired of you?” His thumb traced the curve of my chin.

I shrugged my shoulders and stared at the floor. “You’ve only known me for a few months. You might change your mind. You can have anyone you want . . . anyone without this,” I pulled on the end of my braid, “or this,” I yanked at the fabric of my dress. I choked back the tears, but they streamed down my cheeks. “What if you decide I’m not worth it? Then where will I be?”

He was silent, and for a moment I worried that he’d agree with me. That I’d just given him a reason to turn his back on our time together, to turn away from us completely. But instead, he took me into his arms.

“You’re right, Brin. I could have someone out here. I could. But that’s not what I want. I want you. Only you.”

“Why? I don’t get it! All I do is mess up your life! You should be with someone from the outside world. Someone you won’t have to bend over backward for, someone you can hold in your arms as you sleep. Someone who doesn’t have a husband waiting for her! Someone who isn’t damned to hell!”

I sobbed into his chest and he stroked my back.

“God, you break my heart when you talk like that.” He stroked the top of my braid. “He’s not waiting for you. He doesn’t even notice when you’re gone. You know that, right?”

“I do.”

“And you’re not damned. If anybody’s damned to f*cking hell, it’s the one everyone calls the prophet. He’s a sick f*ck who plays with your lives for his own twisted purposes. He controls every single one of your lives. It’s disgusting.”

“I-I’m starting to see that.”

“We need to get away. Just the two of us. Somewhere where we can just be us, ya know? Where we can be alone and not worry about Cluff or the f*cking prophet or any of that bullshit.”

“That’s impossible,” I said.

“No, it’s not. I told you before, there’s always a way.”

Wriggling out of his embrace, I fought the panic that stirred within me. I needed air. I crossed the room, pulling at the latch of the window. The breeze streamed in and I inhaled deeply, feeling my pulse calm ever so slightly.

Porter stood his ground, watching as I placed my hands on the rail of the window.

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.

“If Jorjina knows, if sh-she knows and sh-sh-she’s spying on me—” I couldn’t look at him. The panic inside me wouldn’t allow it. My stuttering had returned, and I was mortified.

“Then what do you have to lose?” The plea in his voice demanded the proper response. But I didn’t have one.

“Nothing?” I paused, finally making eye contact. “Everything?” I shook my head, not knowing the answer.

Porter moved close behind me, placing one hand next to mine on the window ledge as the other gently caressed my waist. “You’re already on borrowed time. If she tells the prophet, there’s no way you’ll be able to stay. You have to know that.”

I shuddered in response, my feet rocking slightly . . . back and forth, back and forth. I couldn’t soothe myself, couldn’t make my body calm.

“Please, let’s go away. Just us, away from all of this bullshit. I know the place. Just trust me, please.”

“I-I . . .” My limbs shook and it was difficult to swallow. I wanted to indulge my fantasy of being with Porter without worry, without my braid, my dress, my stifling long underwear. I wanted it so badly.

Porter pressed himself against my back, tucking his chin into my neck. “I’ll protect you. Please believe me.”

“I do, I—”

“Just trust me. Please, I need you to trust me. If you can’t, then we’re over before we started.”

I turned to face him. “My trust in you is not the problem. It’s them . . . all of them.”

“Then let’s figure this out.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “They don’t deserve you, Brin. They don’t.”

“Maybe I don’t deserve you—”

“Stop. Don’t even say that. That’s the biggest pile of horse shit I’ve ever heard. You’re the best part of my life. You’re the reason I wake up every day, the reason I get my ass to work. Hell, you’re the reason I haven’t gotten high in months. It’s all because of you.”

“Oh,” I said, surprised at the effect I’d had on him.

Porter placed his hands on each side of my face, angling my chin so that our eyes were locked in a steady gaze. “Don’t ever say that again, all right? I won’t tolerate it.”

I nodded, tears running down my face and onto his knuckles. My mouth went dry as his blue eyes pierced mine. Relief coursed through me, and I relaxed at his touch.

“I need to say something, and you have to hear me,” I begged.

“Anything.” Porter’s lips formed a straight line, and I could feel his body stiffen.

“Please don’t doubt my feelings. Ever. I’m not ready to leave, I’m not ready to be discovered, but that doesn’t change my feelings for you. You’re always on my mind, so much it’s unnerving.”