Nothing is disturbed. Everything is exactly the way I left it when I packed for Angel Bay a few weeks ago.
The apartment is still cozy and neat and clean. Not fancy, but perfect for me. It was all I needed when I went through law school. I could’ve lived here forever.
Leaving my front door unlocked, I set my bag down by the kitchen table and sink into a chair, my head in my hands.
How has everything changed in so short a time?
A few weeks ago, I knew what my life was going to be like and even though I hated it, I was resigned to doing it. I’m a Greene, after all. I do what it fucking takes.
But then… there was Brand. And everything changed.
I can’t keep doing this.
I can’t.
I square my shoulders. My father has an iron-clad contract with my signature on it, tying me to him for the next twenty years. William has information on Brand that could ruin him… and will ruin him if I don’t comply.
There’s only one thing that I can do to survive.
I have to take care of William and then run.
I’ll hide where my father can never find me.
It’s all I can do.
All of a sudden, I feel a strange calm come over me and I feel as though I’m watching from afar, from outside of my body.
This isn’t me, this isn’t my life.
It’ll all be over soon.
One way or another.
I get up and calmly walk to the bedroom.
Standing on my toes, I reach onto the top shelf of my closet and pull down a box.
Inside, a silver 9mm gleams in the light.
I never thought I’d have the balls to use it. I never thought I could.
But oh, how things change.
I run my finger over the cold metal before I lift it from the box and load it.
Very, very calmly, I take off my clothes and sit on my bed in only my black bra and panties. In the middle of the bed, I tuck my legs beneath me, and wait.
It’ll all be over soon.
One way or another.
Out the window, I watch the ocean. It crashes against the shore, while sail boats and paddleboards ride the waves. Everyone out there is carefree and happy. Everyone out there is normal.
In here, I’m tainted and twisted and used.
But it all ends today.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Brand
I stare down at the wings of the plane, as we descend through the clouds and toward the ground.
I can’t focus on anything, other than Nora’s face the other night.
Her eyes had been so wide, as she’d looked at me in the dark. As I’d entered her, she’d sighed so soft, and then whispered into my neck.
Make me good, Brand.
Her words were so quiet that I don’t even know that she meant to speak.
But the words twist and turn in my heart right now.
Make me good.
Because she thinks she’s not. She thinks she’s used.
Unworthy.
Because of whatever that fucking asshole has done to her.
Make me good, Brand.
I grit my teeth and squirm in my seat. I need to get to her. Now.
She’s everything good in the world. She just doesn’t know it.
And I will fucking annihilate him if he’s touched her.
He’ll beg for mercy.
And I will not give it to him.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Nora
My spine is ram-rod straight as I wait.
As the clock ticks the minutes past.
The seconds.
The moments.
This summer, there just wasn’t enough time with Brand. It all ticked past so fast. And now that I’ve left him, the seconds are coming so slowly, passing like razor blades on my skin, achingly, wretchedly slow.
I can do this.
I’m brave.
I’m brave.
I’m fucking brave.
Being brave doesn’t mean not being afraid, Nora. It means being afraid and doing it anyway.
The mere memory of Brand’s voice, his words, makes me smile, warms my heart and buoys my resolve.
How dare William threaten him?
I could’ve cowered forever under threats toward me, but toward Brand?
That’s where they fucked up.
The front door opens. I hear the latch, I hear the knob. I lift my chin.
I’m fucking brave.
I’m fucking brave.
I reach under the edge of the mattress, my fingertips reaching, feeling. Cool metal answers my question. It’s there… just within reach. Concealed and waiting.
It all ends today.
A polished loafer appears in my bedroom doorway, and I follow the legs up to the waist, up to the chest, up to the face where hardened brown eyes stare at me.
“Nora,” my father says, a camera dangling from his hand. “I see you’re ready.”
He eyes me, all of me, my bare legs, my breasts spilling from my bra, my bare skin, my arms, my face. It’s all exposed.
For my father and my uncle.
My reality slams into me, hard and fast and ugly.
I’m tainted.
I’m used.
But it all ends today.
One more time.
One.
More.
Time.
I unclench my teeth and lay back on the bed, spreading my legs the way they like.
“A Greene does what it takes,” I tell my father coldly. “You taught me that.”
My father nods, his gaze fixed on my crotch. He snaps a picture, then two, then three.
“Starting without me?”
William steps in. He’s already shed his clothes, probably in the living room, and he’s only wearing his underwear. He’s pale, wrinkled, sagging. My stomach turns, but I ignore it.
I’m fucking brave.
“Take off your bra for your uncle, Nora,” my father tells me, with eyes like a predator. “You know what he likes.”
The camera snaps. Again. Then again.
Just like last time, my father stands in the corner, behind the camera, stroking himself while his brother gets off. Like last time, he’ll be careful to stay out of the photos. He only takes them so that William can get off on them later.
William crawls onto the bed, on all fours, his white gut sagging to the sheets. I pull my legs up, away from his skin, not wanting to touch him.
I squeeze my eyes shut, preparing.
I can do this.
I’m fucking brave.
“Open your eyes, Nora,” William breathes into my ear, his rank breath hot on my face. “I want to see you as I fuck you.”
He moves over me, hovering, positioning, and I reach to the side, beneath the edge of the mattress. My fingers close around the cold steel.
That’s when I open my eyes.
And that’s when the breath freezes on my lips.
Bursting through the doorway, with all the fury of hell in his eyes, is my avenging angel.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Brand
Rage settles down on me, like a cloud, like a shield, as I bellow my way into the room.
With one fist, I punch Maxwell Greene in the face, slamming him into the wall. In one deft motion, I ram my boot into his dick, crushing it. I leave him whimpering in a heap on the floor.
With one bound, I grab William by the neck and drag him from the bed, ramming his face into the wall, again, then again, then again.
I don’t see, I don’t hear, I don’t feel.
I just am.
I just am enraged.