I don’t bother to beg or plead with him. Instead, I turn and walk out of the room. I know he said not to take anything with me, but for now, I’m taking my cell phone. I walk outside and go to call someone to pick me up, and I realize I have no one to call. All of my friends are linked to my father in some way, and that has me feeling lonelier than I ever could have imagined.
Scrolling through my contacts, searching for someone, anyone who I can reach out to, I stop when I see my aunt Carol’s name. Without thinking, I hit Call, and with the second ring, her voice is filling my ears.
“Ramsey, what a pleasant surprise.”
“Aunt Carol,” I croak. The emotion of what I’m forced to do hits me hard.
“What’s happened? Are you okay? Your momma?” Concern laces her voice.
“I-I’m fine. I just need somewhere to go.” Shame washes over me. I don’t call my aunt enough, and here I am in trouble and leaning on her.
“Come to me. Come to Willow River.” There isn’t an ounce of hesitation in her voice.
“I don’t have a car.”
“Where are you?”
“At my parents’ place.”
“Do you have money for a cab?”
“Yes.”
“Go to the airport. There will be a ticket there waiting for you. I’ll email you the information.”
“Thank you, Aunt Carol.”
“Are you safe, Ramsey?” she asks.
“I’m safe,” I reply, looking down at the bruises on my wrist. The pounding in my head intensifies as does the ache in my cheek. I bring my fingers to softly touch the skin that feels warm to the touch. Hot tears burn my eyes, but I blink them away. I need to get to the airport.
“Thank goodness. We can talk about the rest when you get here.”
“I-I’m sorry… I didn’t know who else to call.”
“I’m glad you called me, sweet girl. Whatever it is, it’s all going to be all right.”
A sob breaks free from my chest. Why couldn’t I have been her daughter? I was born to the wrong sister.
“Call a cab, sweetie. Get to the airport. I’ll be there waiting for you when you land.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, Ramsey. That’s what family is for.”
I manage to utter a goodbye before ending the call to order a cab. I start walking, needing to be as far away from my parents’ estate as I can possibly get. Today starts a new chapter of my life. I’m going to live it on my terms.
one
Ramsey
Two years later
“Stop fidgeting,” my best friend, Palmer, scolds me. “I’m almost done.”
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” I grumble.
“Because it’s going to be fun. You’ll see.”
“Fun? Palmer, I’m about to walk out of this room and have a blind-date photo shoot. That does not sound like a fun time.” The idea of going in there and posing with a man I don’t know has my stomach churning. Let’s just say that my past has left me a little jaded with the opposite sex.
“Trust me. I’ve got you.” My eyes are closed, but I don’t need to look at my best friend to hear the sincerity in her voice.
“That’s what worries me.” I don’t bother hiding my smile. “But for real, Palmer, you know I get super nervous around men,” I say softly.
“Hey.” She drops her hand that she was using to apply my mascara and waits for me to look at her. “I know that. I know about your past, and I promise you I know him. He’s one of the good ones. He would never hurt you.”
“I don’t date,” I remind her.
“I know, and you know that I have been begging you to get back out there. Don’t let the hands of one man, or in your case, two men, keep you from the loving touch of another.” Her voice is gentle. “Besides, I have a good feeling about this.”
I ignore her “good feeling” comment. “They’re all the same.” I know that she means well. I also know this is a big marketing campaign for her and her new photography business, but I’m nervous as hell to walk out there and have to face a man I don’t know and spend time with him. The only reason I agreed is because Palmer will be there the entire time taking pictures.
“Not true, and you know it.” She points her index finger at me.
“Fine. I know, but I just… I’m better off on my own. I’ve worked hard to get where I am the last two years. I’m good with where I am in life.”
“Are you not lonely?” she asks.
“I have you and the boys,” I say, referring to my cousins. My aunt Carol is a mom to nine rowdy boys. Nine! Crazy, right? They opened their arms for me just as Aunt Carol and Uncle Raymond did. They’re more like my nine brothers instead of my nine cousins. They’re all protective of me, even the three who are younger. Hell, they might be younger, but they’re all taller than I am, and they’re all built. I’m not sure what Aunt Carol fed them growing up, but damn. Yes, they’re my family, but I can admit that they’re all gorgeous.