Ximena
I had been thrown over someone else's shoulder too many times to count—each time a reminder of the pain I had endured. Like the time Roberto threw me over his shoulder after he had beaten me so badly that I couldn’t even stand. I had hoped he was taking me somewhere for help, maybe to the hospital, but instead, he dumped me on the bed and walked out, slamming the door behind him.
This time was different. Jacob was nothing like Roberto. He could never hurt me. I felt the warmth of his presence, the way he held me with care and respect. Despite all my inner battles, the warnings I kept telling myself—to hold back, to not allow myself to feel—none of that mattered in the end. I was falling for him.
As much as I tried to deny it, the feelings for Jacob kept growing. We were suppose
