There were times when Sienna yearned to have more friends, to have someone special to wake up next to, but she couldn’t allow it. She’d sacrificed all that when she left her old life to recreate herself.
In her old life, she might have woken up every morning next to someone, but to him she was a nothing. Her husband thought he was someone, especially when he was throwing her into the bookshelves or raping her against her will. She still wore the faint scar on her hip from when her husband had brought a candelabra down on her repeatedly when she’d resisted him, with no regard to the pain radiating through her hip bone.
Everything he did went against all she’d ever been taught. Growing up, she’d been led to believe that as a wife she would be considered precious, that she would be doted on by her lover and partner, and together they would create a family. But that was far from her reality.
Within a few weeks after the marriage ceremony, her dreams became a living nightmare. Beatings, rape, and emotional abuse were all doled out on a regular basis, yet kept secret from their tight-knit religious community in New York City, where they lived.
She had absolutely no one to turn to when the torture started. She knew that the clergy would turn a blind eye, her family wouldn’t risk being shamed in front of their friends, and her in-laws would never believe anything but the best about their son.
Intent on staying alive, she had slowly conceived an escape plan, and executed every detail with precision and caution. When she crawled out of the window on that dark and cold night, her body had burned with fear. But the fear of what would happen to her if she stayed was worse.
Lila crawled out the window wearing ratty jeans and a tight black turtleneck with her hair uncovered and flowing freely down her back. The clothes she had found in a thrift shop outside their neighborhood when she went to the dentist. Her hair hadn’t seen the light of day since she was married, so it was longer and darker. Minutes before leaving, she had hidden in the bathroom and cut long bangs with shaky hands to partially conceal her eyes.
This quick disguise got her to the subway and into one of the other boroughs, where she boarded a bus to Chicago, then Kansas. Her plan was to make a few stops, which she hoped would throw anyone off her master plan to land in Vegas.
She’d come a long way from the scared young woman on the run who didn’t know what to do next.
Thankfully, now she was firmly planted in Vegas with a very different appearance than she’d had back in her early twenties. She was gorgeous but unattached, lonely, and remained an enigma to most.
She didn’t have anything even remotely close to a social life, and now she was walking out the door to have coffee with a man. A man she only knew because he had watched her dance at the Tunnel, and now she was dreaming of having more with him.
God, I’m stupid.
Canyon Coffee was a ten-minute drive from her house. Nestled in an upscale shopping center near an organic grocery store, yoga studio, and a small Italian bistro, it was a quiet location. Sienna rarely took her car out except for quick local errands, but today she put the top down on her little foreign convertible and enjoyed the ride. It was nice being chauffeured in the back of a town car, but there was something liberating about driving on her own. It gave her yet another small sense of freedom, one she’d never had in her old life, and could rarely enjoy in her new one.
As she pulled into a parking spot, she saw Mike in his big SUV. Parked in a front spot with a direct line of sight to the coffee shop, he was in position to watch her every move. Warmed by the thought of his careful diligence, Sienna made a mental note to grab Mike a coffee when she was on her way out later.
Sienna got out of her car and started making her way to the coffeehouse. She didn’t glance Mike’s way, careful not to make any overt gestures toward him. She didn’t want to give him away, since it would be somewhat awkward for Carson to know she had someone watching over her.
Taking a deep breath, she walked toward the coffee shop like she met a random man for coffee every day of the week.
Sienna startled slightly when the chimes above the door jingled, signaling she’d entered the coffee shop. She kept her head slightly down, although a quick survey of the store revealed no one showing interest in the latest customer to enter. There were two tables occupied with suburban housewives in yoga clothes, who were probably gossiping over their lattes. In the corner, Carson was sitting in one of the large brown leather armchairs with his black down vest laid over the one catty-corner to his. She glanced at the counter, noting there was no line for a drink, and nothing left to distract her.
Carson stood up and walked toward her. He looked good in daylight. Instead of his usual white button-down shirt, he was wearing a light gray henley tee, worn-in jeans, and brown motorcycle boots. He still hadn’t shaved, and Sienna had the strangest urge to rub herself like a kitten against the stubble on his face.