My heart hurt for all that Elena went through with that monster of a man who verbally tore her apart and made her feel less than nothing. He gave her to Ashton to work off the money he owed him for gambling. Seriously what a...well you know. Now Ashton on the other hand. Not exactly a prince, but definitely a man who sees Elena's worth as a woman and not in that creepy use her way. He hates how she's lived and basically has to reprogram her after all the damage that Dominic has done. They fall for each other, but the road still isn't a straight one for them. I really enjoyed their story.
I give Traded 4 hearts!
I give Traded 4 hearts!
I’m a pawn, a piece of chattel, a toy--used and forgotten.
When you’re done with me, you can walk away with no regrets. That’s how my husband sees me. I try to be the best wife possible for him. After all, he took me on when no one else would. Now--he’s in debt and owes more money to the loan shark than we can possibly repay.
But, don’t worry, he’s come up with a solution, it’s just not one I was expecting.
...I’ve been TRADED.
“You sent her home with him, right?” My eyes dropped to my shoes and he growled. “Tell me you didn’t, Ashton. Tell me you didn’t take the girl in lieu of payment.” I lifted my chin and he got his answer. “Jesus, fuck.”
“I made him a deal,” I said. “I get Elena for three months, and he pays back half of what he owes.”
“Half? Are you crazy? Does she have a golden pussy or something? She must have. There must be a good reason for this . . . insanity.”
By this point my dad had rounded the table, grabbing handfuls of my shirt, pulling me flush against him, his face was millimeters from mine as he shouted his displeasure. My fists clenched at my sides. At six-one I was a big bastard but Dad was bigger. He could take me without breaking sweat. Even so, my voice was tight when I looked him straight in the eye and replied, “He abuses her, Dad,” the volume dropping slightly when I continued, “I don't know to what extent but she won't even look me in the fucking eyes when I talk to her. Can't make a decision on her own. Swear to Christ, she jumped six fuckin' feet in the air when I touched her hand. I have no intention of fucking her, but I couldn’t let her leave with him. If I shot him down and let Brock rough him up a little, imagine what that would have meant for her. You know.”
Understanding washed through his features and he lowered me to the ground, releasing my shirt from his grip, smoothing out the crumpled material. "She's staying with you?"
"Yes." I made the split-second decision to share my plan with him. "I've only got three months to repair what he broke. It'll be tough but I'll be damned if I don't give it a try.
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Rebecca lives near the shore towns of New Jersey, with her husband and two kids. When she's not writing she loves reading and watching SOA and TrueBlood.
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