Chapter 32
“Everyone out!” Aspen screeched while she and Rebecca dragged me to the bed. Every bit of my body ached, burned, and pounded with pain. Lehi, Leandra, and the other wives left the room, and despite my pain, I was able to breathe. The danger was gone.
“My suitcase,” I whispered to Aspen. “I need it.”
“Where is it?” Aspen jumped to attention and ran across the bedroom. “In the closet?”
“Yes,” I whimpered.
Aspen froze, looking back at me, studying me from head to toe. “Rebecca, fetch a first aid kit.” Her face was solemn, downturned. “We’re going to need it.”
Rebecca ran from the room. While she was gone, Aspen retrieved my suitcase and placed it on the bed next to me. She scooped up my purse and its contents, placing it all in the case. Her hand smoothed down my disheveled hair and she tipped her head to the side, giving me a sympathetic smile.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you.”
“You saved me,” I said.
“Not quite.” Aspen’s fingers skimmed my temple, next to the cut that wouldn’t stop bleeding. Her shoulders drooped and her spine bowed.
I grabbed her hand with as much strength as I could muster. “You saved my life,” I said through my tears and cracking voice. “I’ll never forget that.”
Aspen looked away, sniffing and wiping at her nose. I knew she was fighting tears; she was never one to show emotion or weakness.
Rebecca entered the room and Aspen quickly wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Rest,” she insisted. “We’ll pack your things.”
I submitted to her instructions and collapsed on the bed, trying desperately to ignore the pain. My wounds didn’t matter; they would heal.
I was getting out. Finally.
And that was all that mattered.
? ? ?
Within minutes, my bag was packed with the bare essentials and my sister wives guided me to Lehi’s truck. Every muscle screamed as they lifted me into the cab of the truck. I struggled to maintain consciousness as my mind tried desperately to escape the pain. My chest ached and my throat burned each time I swallowed. It hurt to breathe, and bruises were starting to form on my arms and legs.
Aspen climbed into the driver’s seat, and Rebecca sat on the other side of me, next to the window. As we made our way into town, a stunning sunset filled the sky. I leaned my head back against the seat, wincing against the pain, as my sister wives argued. Oh, did they argue.
Aspen glanced at Rebecca. “Who is this Porter? And how on earth do you know about him and I don’t?”
Poor Aspen was furious, although I knew she was really just hurt that I’d deceived her through lying by omission.
Rebecca looked away and shrugged. “I met him months ago.”
“And . . . ?”
Rebecca brushed away Aspen’s questions. Turning in her seat, she demanded, “You must tell me what you found, Aspen! What was written on those papers?”
“You answer my questions first.”
“It was months ago . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“You said that already. Who is he? Is he good to her?”
Rebecca shook her head. “I-I don’t know. I met him once, just once. Right after I joined the family.”
“Oh, but you know where he lives?”
“It’s a long story. Would you please, please, just tell me what was on those papers?” Rebecca’s voice cracked.
Aspen snorted. “Are you joking? I owe you nothing! Nothing!”
“I know, but—”
“Where does he live?”
Rebecca glanced around, then said, “Um . . . turn right on Wilson Avenue. It’s two blocks—”
“I know where it is,” Aspen snapped. “I’ve lived here my whole life.”
“Okay.”
We drove in silence for several minutes, then Aspen cleared her throat and spoke. When she did, her voice was monotone, emotionless. “This . . . what happened to Brinley tonight, it’s all your fault. You must know that.”
“I know, I know, but—I have to know. You must tell me. I’ll go insane if I don’t know.”
“Then go insane. Perhaps that will be your penance for doing this to Brinley.”
“That’s not fair,” Rebecca whimpered.
“Nor is blaming Brinley for your domestic problems,” Aspen snarled, her words laced with venom. “It’s not her fault you were reassigned!”
“I-I didn’t say it was!”
“Then why did you do this? Why? She could have been killed!”
Rebecca wailed in response, turning her body away, leaning her forehead against the passenger window and sobbing as though her heart were breaking. Normally, I would comfort her, but the pain was all-consuming. Besides, to be honest, Rebecca was not my favorite person at that moment. After all, she was the reason that Lehi beat me. She’d clearly given my purse to Lehi and Leandra, and set the confrontation in motion.
“I-I thought . . . I mean, I didn’t know they would do that. I thought—”
“What? That she’d be reassigned?”
“Yes,” Rebecca admitted. “Here’s the coffee shop. His apartment is upstairs.”
Aspen didn’t respond. She pulled the truck onto a side street and turned off the engine.
“How do we get up there?” she asked once they were balancing my weight on the sidewalk, just below a lone streetlamp.
“Follow me.” Rebecca pressed the button marked Travis.
A moment later, Charlie yelled through the intercom, “Yo!”
Leaning toward the box, I said weakly, “It’s Brinley. I need Porter.” I moaned. “It’s an emergency.”
“Oh,” he replied.
“Hurry!” Aspen screeched into the intercom.
Buzzz.
Rebecca held the door open and the two women carried me to the stairs. Slowly, we climbed, my knees weak, every step causing pain to shoot through my ribs.
The thunder of footsteps came rushing toward us. When I saw Porter and Charlie round the corner of the staircase, all my emotions came bubbling to the surface, and I began to cry.
“Brin?” Porter’s head jerked back. He froze, staring down at me as his mouth fell open. Charlie nudged him, snapping him back into action. He ran down the remaining steps. Rebecca moved out of the way, and he wrapped his arm around my waist. “What happened?”
Charlie supported the other side of my body and they carried me the rest of the way. I sobbed as we walked. Porter demanded again and again for me to tell him what happened, but I couldn’t speak for wailing.
“She’s still in shock,” Rebecca said. “But she’ll be okay.”
We entered the apartment and the men carried me to the couch. I lay on the couch with two pillows supporting my head and neck while Charlie scurried off to find their first aid kit.
Porter kissed my forehead, then studied my face. His face clouded as his anger built, and I knew that soon he’d explode.
“What the f*ck happened to her?” he demanded, looking at Aspen, who’d grown silent in his presence. “And who the hell are you?”
“My name is Aspen.”
“The pain-in-the-ass sister wife?”
“Porter!” I grimaced, knowing that Aspen didn’t deserve that title. Not one bit. “Stop. She saved me.”
“From what?” he asked, kneeling down beside the couch. “Who did this to you?”
“It—it’s a long story,” Aspen answered.
“I’m serious, Brin. Who the f*ck do I need to destroy? Was it Lehi? Did he do this to you?”
I nodded through my tears. Porter’s face hardened and his breathing grew ragged. He’d reached the end of his fuse.
“Rebecca,” Aspen said, her voice controlled, somber. “Clean Brinley up. I need to talk to Porter.”
“I don’t have time to talk,” Porter said, jumping to his feet. “I have to go.”
“No!” I screamed, attempting to sit up. Searing pain shot through my ribs and I fell back to the couch.
Rebecca rifled through the first aid kit that Charlie handed her, then applied antiseptic to my cuts. I winced at the pain as Porter paced.
“He has to pay for this, Brin. I’m not gonna let him get away with it!”
Aspen stood opposite Porter. “It’s taken care of.”
“The f*ck it is! I’m gonna f*ck him up so bad he’ll wish he’d never touched a hair on her f*cking head!” Porter’s chest heaved, the skin of his face and neck splotchy.
“Listen to me, please,” Aspen begged. “You can’t go back there. You’ll only make things worse.”
“I’m not afraid of that a*shole. I’ll f*cking kill him!” Porter shot toward the door of the apartment.
“Listen to her, man,” Charlie said, jumping up from his seat and blocking the hallway that led to the door.
“Get out of the way!” Porter yelled, shoving Charlie in the chest.
“No.” Charlie softened his tone, going for calm. “If you go back there, you’ll regret it.”
“What the f*ck do you know about anything?” Porter demanded, turning his fury toward his roommate, pushing him aside and storming to the front door. He gripped the handle and ripped it open, the doorknob punching a hole into the drywall it slammed into.
“You’re making a mistake!” Charlie yelled, chasing after Porter. He grabbed his shoulder, yanking him back into the apartment.
“Porter!” I yelled, alarmed. My mind conjured up visions of Porter . . . Lehi, dead beneath Porter’s feet. Porter in handcuffs, slumped over in the back of a police car. Porter never returning to me, never being a part of my life. I’d be here, in the outside world, finally. But he wouldn’t be here with me. The thought sent daggers through my fragile heart.
“Look, man,” Charlie yelled, his grip on Porter fixed and determined. “You’ve wanted her for months—you’ve wanted her here, wanted her to be free.”
“So?” Porter looked past Charlie and met my gaze.
“So, she’s here, man. She’s what matters. Not him. Not any of them.” Charlie shook his head as Porter’s eyes remained on mine, his expression softening just a touch. But it was enough. “Just . . . calm yourself down. Focus on her, man. Focus on Brinley.”
“Please,” Aspen said, stepping in front of Charlie. “I made a deal. Brinley’s free and that’s all that matters. Let us deal with the consequences.”
“And then what?” Porter’s eyes were crazed, manic. “Then tomorrow he beats the shit out of you too? No, not on my f*cking watch!”
“Porter, please!” I wailed from the couch. “Don’t go back there. Stay with me. I need you.”
He froze, then glanced back at Charlie and Aspen before crossing the room. He sat on the edge of the couch and stroked my hair.
Charlie spoke next as he and Aspen moved to hover over Porter and me. “Does her husband know about Porter?”
“Yes,” Rebecca answered.
“So, he’s probably waiting . . . he’s waiting for you, man. Don’t you see that? He’s waiting for you to come pounding on his door. He’ll f*ck you up and then the cops will haul you away.”
“I don’t care,” Porter said, still looking into my eyes. His face crumpled, and his eyes filled with tears before he pressed them shut. Tight. So tight. But they still escaped.
I squeezed his hand. “I do,” I whispered. “Stay with me.”
He shook his head with fervor. “He can’t get away with this, Brin.”
“He won’t,” Aspen replied. “Trust me. He won’t.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Porter rose to his feet and stomped out of the room. The rest of us stared at one another in silence. Silently, I prayed that he wasn’t retrieving a weapon from his bedroom.
When Porter returned, I sighed with relief. His hands were still empty, but they were balled up tightly as his anger took over his body. He stormed through the room, throwing a solid punch at the wall, then roaring as his hand made contact with the drywall, a misshapen hole left in its wake.
“Porter!”
He turned and placed his other palm on the wall, then pressed his forehead to the surface, his eyes closed tight, his face in a hard scowl.
“I can’t! I can’t let this go. It’ll kill me.”
“And if you’re in jail,” I cried out, “rotting away in a cell, and I’m out here on my own? That’ll kill me.”
He wheeled around and said, “I have to do something, Brin.” He shrugged, tears rolling down his face, and walked back to the couch to crouch down and stroke my hair. “You’re mine. I need to protect you.”
“Protect me here. Stay with me, protect me, be with me. You have to rise above this, Porter, or it’ll destroy us both.”
“Wait,” Aspen said softly. “There is something you can do.”
Porter turned and glared at my sister wife, unable to trust her yet since he’d only heard negative things from me about her nosy behavior, her constant correction of my mistakes. He didn’t see the Aspen who had stepped between me and the hand of absolute evil. He couldn’t possibly know how she had redeemed herself.
Aspen reached into her pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. “Hold on to this for me.” She walked over and placed the ball of paper in Porter’s hand, and when she did, Rebecca grimaced. I knew she wanted to leap across the couch to rip it from Porter’s hands. “Guard it with your life. Lock it up somewhere.”
“I don’t get it. A piece of paper? What the hell is this?”
“My insurance policy. I’ll ask for it when the time comes.” A devilish smile lit up Aspen’s face, as if she’d solved the ultimate puzzle, the ultimate game.
“Fine, okay.” Porter stuffed the paper into his pocket as Rebecca closed her eyes and sighed.
“How will you reach us?” I asked Aspen. “I mean, when you need it?”
“I’ll come here.”
Porter and I shared a glance; we both knew his time in this apartment was limited. Then he said, “Wait, I have an idea. Do you have Brin’s purse?”
“Yes, just a moment.” Aspen unzipped the case, retrieving the tattered purse. The purse that contained all my secrets.
“Here,” she said, handing the bag to Porter.
He dug through it and pulled out the phone. “Take this,” he said, placing it in her hand. “My phone number is already in it. You can call me, text me, whatever. But this way you’ll be able to reach me.”
Aspen glanced at me. “And I can check on Brinley?”
“Sure,” he said. “Of course.”
“Wait,” I said with a start, glancing back and forth between Aspen and Rebecca. “You can’t go back there. Lehi, he’ll . . . he’ll make your lives miserable.”
Aspen shook her head and smiled weakly. “We’ll be just fine.”
I wasn’t convinced. My sudden fear of losing Aspen surprised me. Over the past three years, I’d relied on her, yes. At different times I’d resented her, feared her, and dismissed her. But faced with losing her, I felt as if a part of me were dying, as if one of my limbs were being removed from my body. Aspen had been my compass, my north star. She gave me boundaries, then pushed me when I didn’t stay true to them. And she believed in my goodness. She believed in me.
“B-but,” I stammered. “If you left, if you left the compound . . .”
Aspen shook her head. “No, Brinley. This life is not for me.”
“You don’t know that, you haven’t—”
“I belong there,” she insisted. “It’s what I believe. It’s where I belong.”
“But I—” I choked on my words, sadness and grief filling me from head to toe. “If I’m out here and you’re in there, then I’ll be dead to you.”
Aspen walked to me and placed a kiss on my forehead. “You’re my sister,” she whispered. “You’ll never be dead to me. Never.”
“Promise?” I asked, tears streaming down my cheeks.
“Yes.”
Aspen wrapped her arms around me, careful not to hurt me. But I didn’t care. I pulled her close, pulled her tight as the tears continued to spill from my eyes. She kissed the top of my head and said good-bye.
“We have to get back. I still need to deal with Lehi.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, hoping once more that she’d change her mind.
She brushed me off, though, as I knew she would. Aspen was strong, determined, and independent. There was nothing I could say to force her to leave her faith. Despite the influence of the Cluff household, Aspen knew her place in the world. And that was to be a part of the chosen. To live in the compound and to serve Heavenly Father.
And I had to accept that.
“Brinley, I—” Rebecca said meekly. “I can never . . . apologize enough for what I did.”
“You didn’t know,” I told her. “You didn’t know what they were capable of. I understand. And eventually . . . eventually I’ll forgive.”
She nodded, her face twisting as tears fell. “Thank you.”
Porter walked my sister wives to the door, thanked them for bringing me to him, and at Aspen’s insistence, promised to remain at the apartment, no matter his urge for revenge.
“Let’s get you to bed,” he said, helping me off the couch and walking me to his bedroom. Carefully, he stripped me of my dress and long underwear as I sat on the edge of his bed.
I glanced around the room, astonished at how tidy it was. “You cleaned?”
“No big deal.” He shrugged. “Just trying to clean up my act.”
“I see,” I said, smiling for the first time in what felt like an eternity.
“You won’t be needing these anymore.”
He tossed my clothes into the wastebasket. The heavy dress draped over the side of the can, toppling it to the floor. I stared at the can, lying on its side, knowing that I would no longer be weighed down by a garment of any kind. I would stand tall.
Porter dressed me in a soft cotton T-shirt and a pair of plaid boxer shorts. My body, despite the pain that I was still in, was enveloped in the peace these simple clothes provided. I stood in front of his mirror, stroking the bare skin of my arms as I studied my body. Purple bruises were forming on my legs. Bandages covered the gash on my eyebrow, and my hands that were cut by the shattered glass. But it didn’t matter. None of it mattered.
Porter cleared his throat, taking my braid in his hands. “May I?”
I nodded, and Porter released my braid. His fingers weaved through the loosened strands, freeing my hair from its bonded state. Unimaginable relief swept through my body, my brain, my heart.
No more braids.
No more prophet, domineering husband, or sister wives.
I was free.