“You’re late,” Mrs. Long snapped, rising.
By one minute.
Marisol grit her teeth and smiled. “My apologies.” She led the woman to one of the nail booths. Two other booths were already filled by some of Mrs. Long’s friends. They liked to get their nails done at the same time so they could gossip together.
“Was that Linc Johnson I saw you with out there, dear?” Mrs. Olsen asked. Her question sounded innocent enough but she sensed all the women’s eyes turn to her.
“That’s right.”
“You two looked cozy,” Mrs. Olsen said slyly.
“He’s a friend.”
“You want to be careful about associating with the people on Sanctuary Ranch,” Mrs. Randall told her.
Don’t ask. Don’t ask.
“Have you heard the rumors about them?” Mrs. Long asked in a loud voice.
“I don’t listen to gossip,” she replied. She knew she had to be polite. They were the clients after all. Still, she hated the glee in their voices. They were enjoying this too much.
“Well,” Mrs. Olsen sniffed. “Just thought you might like to know how they treat the women out there.”
She stiffened.
“She might be into that sort of thing,” Mrs. Long sneered.
“It’s sick, it is,” Mrs. Randall said. “Not natural. And now I hear that two of them are seeing the one woman. At the same time. They all live together in the same house. It’s just not right.”
“It’s abuse,” Mrs. Long added. “I reported it to the sheriff. I told him that Madison told me that she heard the men all spank the women and won’t allow them to do anything without their permission. I wanted the sheriff to investigate and he refused. He told me to stop making up stories. So rude.”
“He’s so incompetent,” Mrs. Randall said.
Good for the sheriff. She thought of the cop from last night. He’d actually been nice. And concerned for her. As they changed their topic to some woman who was having an affair with her best friend’s husband, Marisol’s mind wandered to what the women had said about Sanctuary Ranch. She didn’t believe that any of those women were abused. They were all so happy and sweet. She knew what it was like to be stuck. To be scared.
Those women seemed secure and healthy.
And Linc definitely didn’t strike her as the sort of man to hurt a woman. No, she dismissed those accusations and her mind instead turned to the news report she’d just seen. It reminded her that even though she might have some more time to plan, she still needed a way out of here.
For good.
6
Marisol grabbed some food from the kitchen and moved quickly up to her bedroom. The house was quiet and her aunt’s vehicle wasn’t in the garage, but that still didn’t make her feel any happier. She was exhausted.
At least tomorrow was going to be a bit quieter with so many people at the wedding.
She opened her door cautiously, part of her expecting to see Tiger lounging on her bed. It was empty. Breathing out a sigh of relief, she walked in, put her food down then locked the door and pulled her dresser across it for good luck. By the time she’d done that, she was feeling sweaty and slightly light headed.
Shoot.
She didn’t know if she was just tired or her blood sugar was low again. Honestly, sometimes it felt like she could never rest. It was a constant worry in the back of her head. Trying to figure out what she’d eaten that day. What her symptoms meant, if anything.
She just wanted to be carefree. To have nothing to worry about. It wasn’t possible, of course. Not with her life.
But after checking her blood sugar, she was pleased to see it was all right. Must just be tired. After a shower and dinner, which consisted of a peanut butter sandwich and some yogurt, she grabbed her snuggly and Princess Nana, her doll, from the closet. As she rubbed her snuggly against her nose, her thumb found its way into her mouth and she just lay on the bed, trying calm herself.
This was the closest she ever got to being able to relax and let things go. She never fully let her Little side out.