Page 153 of Allegiant

I give myself one more minute to cry, then I force myself out of the tub.

I don’t meet my gaze in the mirror as I splash water on my face. I don’t want to see the black eye that no amount of makeup could hide. Or the split lip that had me calling in sick to work.

Patrick’s normally so careful, only leaving marks where no one will see them. But since his dishonorable discharge for punching one of his superiors, all bets are off.

My fingers dig into the sink as my head hangs below my shoulders. It was always easier when he was deployed. I could almost pretend he no longer existed. That I was just Jules. A happy, cheeky man who works for a family who values him. Who allow him free rein to create whatever his heart desires in the kitchen.

Foolishly, I started to hope for a different future. One where I might gain my freedom.

But that’s not going to happen. Not now. There won’t be any more deployments. No months of freedom.

Just me and Patrick, trapped in this house.

Until the day he finally snaps and kills me.

I wash my hands out of habit. I am a fool, but I’m no longer naive.

I know exactly who the Buckinghams are. What they do. I’ve been present during meetings no other member of staff would’ve been permitted to attend.

I know why, too, even if I refuse to admit it. Because if I do, I’ll do something stupid.

Like tell Harley the truth.

I can’t have him knowing. No one’s ever looked at me the way he does. Like I can do no wrong. Like I’m special.

I’m neither of those things. Patrick reminds me as often as he can.

A single word to any one of the Buckinghams, or even one of their partners, and Patrick would simply disappear. Even Dotty might take him out for me. I’ve seen her with that spray bottle. She’s ruthless.

So, why haven’t I said anything?

Well, at first, I thought maybe things would get better. That Patrick would return from his leave and everything would go back to how it was before we got married.

It never did.

When that realization finally sank in, shame had me holding my tongue. That, and pride. I didn’t want the Buckinghams thinking less of me, and I certainly didn’t want them believing I’d gotten close to them to take advantage of them. Of what they do.

That too passed. But it left behind the biggest obstacle of all.

Fear.

I’m terrified of them learning the truth. Of Harley learning the truth. All these years, he’s believed I’m single. They all have. When he finds out I’ve been lying…

It’ll break his heart.

And what if he finds out about the abuse, then looks at me like Patrick does? Like I’m weak. Pitiful.

I can’t stand it. It’d hurt me more than Patrick’s fists ever could.

I’ve been playing a dangerous game with Harley. At first, I told myself it was a harmless flirtation. That I deserved something good in my life.

But then he kept showing up day after day, and I realized that even goodness can break your heart.

Because Harley is good. Of all the Buckinghams, his heart is the purest. Guns are his weapon of choice because they allow him distance. Even his brothers recognize this, avoiding giving him any up-close wet work where possible, and not insisting he participate in the torture chamber.

Or, the Hospitality Suite, as Dalton calls it.

I imagine Patrick inside there and my stomach rolls. Even after everything he’s put me through, I still can’t condemn him to that fate. I know it sounds stupid, but he’s tried so hard to strip away every facet of my sense of self. The old Jules would never have let someone be hurt or killed because of him. There isn’t much of him left these days, but I hold on to that. The sliver of the man I once was. If I cling tightly enough, it might be enough to rebuild that man. One layer at a time.