He Dumped Me in a Pigpen, Now I'm His Nightmare

Fifteen years. We were supposed to be best friends forever. Everyone swore Liam was head-over-heels in love with me.

Then my perfect sister waltzed back into the picture, and next thing I knew, he was shipping me off to Hicksville, USA—population: dirt. Said I needed some time to "reflect" on my behavior.

Three years in that one-horse town felt like a life sentence.

And now here he was, finding me elbow-deep with the pigs, scrounging for scraps like some kind of animal. Suddenly, Mr. High-and-Mighty is shocked. Horrified, even.

Says he made a huge mistake. Wants me to come back.

I just looked down, placed a hand on my barely-there baby bump, and told him to get the hell out.

Liam found me while I was trying to sneak a bite of slop, leaning hard on my bad leg. Word was some big shot was visiting town today—everyone was too busy rubbernecking to notice me. It was my one shot to sneak into Old Man McGregor's pigpen.

From a distance, I heard someone shouting my name. "Ashley? Ashley Carter?!"

Whatever. I kept shoveling it in. A chance to actually eat? No way I was passing that up.

The stuff hit my stomach like a brick, but it stopped the gnawing hunger, the constant cramping. I stuffed my face, not even caring if I choked.

Hard to believe that just three years ago, I was Ashley Carter, spoiled princess of the A-list, living it up in LA. Now? I was living like a feral animal.

All thanks to my ex-fiancé and his precious little secretary.

Even my parents bought their load of crap. They listened to every lie, packed me off to this place to "think about what I'd done," and haven't bothered to call once in three years.

Did they even have a clue what this town was like?

It's the kind of place where half the women look like they've been kidnapped. Where wives are treated like property—good for cooking, cleaning, and taking a beating.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed me, yanking me back with so much force I thought my arm would pop right out of its socket. I flinched, bracing for the hit.

"Sorry—I didn't mean to—I'm just so hungry, I'm sorry…"

The guy just stood there, staring like he'd seen a ghost. "Ashley," he said, voice tight. "What are you doing?"

"It's Liam!"

Liam. The name finally clicked. Oh, right. My ex-fiancé. The same guy who dumped me in this hellhole to begin with.

My head felt fuzzy, stuffed with cotton. I looked up slowly at the preppy jerk standing over me.

Yep. It was Liam, all right. My former fiancé. The mastermind behind my brilliant new life.

And standing right behind him was his partner-in-crime, Brittany, gagging like she was about to lose her lunch, pinching her nose like I was something toxic.

Liam turned, pulled her in, and hustled her a few steps back.

He kissed her forehead. "Easy, babe. I know, it's disgusting. You're gonna ruin your dress."

Then he shot me this weird, almost guilty look. "Come on, Ashley. Three years is enough. Let's get you out of here."

Get out? Leave?

I wiped my mouth with my chapped, frostbitten hands, trying to hide the scars covering my skin.

I might've been a princess once. Now I was just dirt.

I just nodded, followed them, limping along like a broken doll.

In the car, Brittany had the nerve to ask if I was doing okay.

I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep.

Why wasn't I happy? Why wasn't I relieved to be going home?

Maybe it was the hate—a slow, simmering burn deep inside.

I hated them. Both of them. Liam and Brittany, sneaking around behind my back, then framing me for assault just to shut me up. And my parents bought every word of it. Shipped me off to rot for three years.

And then there was Kevin.

My boyfriend. I was finally getting out… but what about him?

Brittany bit her lip. "Ashley, I was just asking… I just wondered if you're alright, I just—"