Chapter Three
Cora was madder than a scolded cat when he told her. She stomped from the kitchen, ran up the stairs and threw herself crossways on the queen-size bed, his parent’s bed, the bed she and Harry had taken over since he found her m**********g in the basement. “I’ll not do it, Harry,” she yelled when he followed. “Mr. Whittier wants me for s*x? It’s disgusting.”
Harry leaned to her ear and forced a whisper, his spittle moist on her cheek “You knew what I wanted from the beginning.”
Cora rolled away. “Well, I’ve changed my mind.”
Harry grabbed her arm. “We are well beyond changes to your mind,” he shouted. “I make your decisions, now.”
“You don’t own me.”
“Oh, no…?”
Before she could move across the bed further, he was on her. A fist to the stomach consumed her wind, and the
