“Get some sleep, kid. It’s late.”
Dylan got under the covers, his eyes searching mine. “You can trust Estella. She’s not like Ruby. She cares about me.”
There was nothing to say to that. If my kid brother could trust women even after Ruby continued to fail him, then why couldn’t I?
Letting out a breath, I gave him a weak smile. “Night, Kid.”
Dylan knew not to push the topic further—he’d get nothing else out of me.
“Night, Vin.”
Chapter Fifteen
Estella
~ Two Years Ago ~
When I got home, no one was there except him.
The look in his eyes disgusted me—it made me sick to my stomach the way he stalked my movements with his eyes.
My blood ran cold and my heart accelerated, like it was trying to tell me to run away. But I didn’t run—I stayed exactly where I was because I didn’t want to make him angry. If he got angry, he could do the same thing to Savannah. I didn’t want him to ruin Savannah’s life the way he had ruined mine, so I let him do this to me.
When I didn’t move towards him, he stood up from his seat on the couch and approached me; his clothes were wrinkled, his hair was untidy, and when he spoke, his breath reeked of alcohol.
“I’ve missed you.” He pulled me close, burying his head in my neck. “I’ve had a bad day, Estella, and I need you.”
Here I stood, Estella Markson, and I let him say these things to me. Here I stood, Estella Markson, and I let him run his hands over my body. Here I stood; frozen, broken, dead inside. I stood here, letting him ruin me once again.
He lifted his head and stroked my cheek with a finger. “Make me happy, Estella, the way your mom used to.”
My stomach dropped and I had an urge to throw up. “Please don’t make me do this.” My voice was soft, coaxing. I didn’t want to make him mad.
His eyes sparked and he straightened up, grabbing a fistful of my hair and tugging it so hard that tears stung my eyes from the burning of my scalp. “You know I don’t like it when you make things difficult for me. Be a good girl and do what I say, or you know what’s going to happen.”
“I’m s-sorry,” I whispered, lowering my gaze.
I knew his threat well. If I didn’t do as he said, he would start using Savannah to keep him company. There was no way I was getting my baby sister involved in this. I had to keep her safe.
As he released my hair, a smile that sickened me formed on his lips. He grasped my arm and slowly lifted up the left sleeve of my coat and stroked the fabric of my sweater underneath. It made me sick that he knew my secret; that he knew I was disfigured beneath that sweater.
“You are such a good girl,” he said as his eyes drank me in greedily, “and I’m going to show you how I treat good girls.”
And, because I was frozen, and broken, and dead inside, I let him lead me to my room.
He hadn’t done this to me in a few months, but the memory of how to behave was ingrained into my skull. Once he left my room, I took a shower to wash his scent off me. I loved the way the water felt against my skin, as though I was cleansing myself of what he’d done to me. Sometimes I stayed in the shower longer than I needed to, just thinking about how my life had turned out.
I knew what he was doing to me wasn’t my fault, but I was powerless to stop it. I was trying so hard to be strong and to hold my family together, but when it came down to it, I was a weak person. I was weak physically and I was weak mentally. I couldn’t stop this from happening to me—it was my fault.
Once I’d showered and changed into clean clothes, I went out to find that Savannah was home. Ignoring them where they sat at the table, I set about making sandwiches for us to eat. When I occupied myself with something, it almost made me forget the disgusting things he did to me.
Almost.
~ Present Day ~
When I walked out of school the next afternoon, I was surprised to find Vincent parked at the bus stop again. I’d just been about to cross the street with Mariah to go to her car when I saw him standing by his bike waiting for me.
As usual, he was dressed in that way that bothered me—his jeans, shirt, and jacket all hugged his body in a way that made me stare for too long. It was like when you knew something was trouble, but it just looked so darn good that you couldn’t stay away. That’s what Vincent did to me.
“Oh my God,” Mariah said, her voice high pitched. “Vincent Madden is here.”
She said it as though I’d gone temporarily blind and couldn’t see the huge anomaly in my life. Vincent stood out like a Goth at a Justin Bieber concert—he wasn’t very hard to miss.
“Yes, I know, Ray,” I said, trying to get a firm hold of my emotions. Vincent had a way of making me feel things I didn’t want to feel. “I didn’t expect him to be here.”
That was the truth. I know he’d come to see me here yesterday, but I thought that that had only been a once off thing. I honestly didn’t think he’d come all the way to Statlen just to pick me up.
“He is so hot,” Mariah chattered on as we crossed the street together and approached Vincent, “in an I’m-going-to-pull-a-gun-out-on-you kinda way or a mess-with-me-and-I’ll-kick-you-in-the-phalange kinda way.”
Rolling my eyes at her, I lowered my voice so Vincent wouldn’t hear me. “You are so deluded by hot guys, it’s not even funny. You need a reality check. That is not hot.”
“Oh, come on, Estee! He’s hot in a dangerous, bad boy way. Even you have eyes. You’re the one who needs a reality check. I don’t see how you control yourself from ripping his clothes off.”
I let out a breath, feeling irritated that a part of me agreed with her. “Yes, okay, there might be a part of me that finds him attractive, but it’s not enough to make up for his mental imbalance. Therefore, my logic declares that he is not hot.”
“That’s not what your friend thinks.”
My face went hot at the sound of Vincent’s voice, and I turned to find him watching us with a knowing smirk on his lips.
Darn! He’d heard us! As if I needed another reason to feel awkward around him.
Quickly recovering, I flipped my hair over my shoulders and tried to control the heat that I could feel pooling in my cheeks. “My friend has brain damage. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. Therefore her comments aren’t valid.”
Vincent took off his aviators and hung them on the front of shirt, the smirk still playing around his mouth. “Let me get this straight; your friend has brain damage, I’m mentally imbalanced, yet you hang around with us, so what does that make you?”
“Clinically insane, obviously,” I blurted out without really thinking.
Vincent let out a laugh which sent tingles shooting through my stomach in ten different directions. This was not good. My body must be clinically insane for reacting to Vincent like that.
“I kinda figured that the first night I found you talking to yourself in a British accent.”
From beside me, Mariah let out a snort. “You speak to yourself in a British accent?”
Trying my best to ignore her, I gave Vincent a flippant look. “Well, I knew you were trouble the first night we met.”
“Of course I’m trouble. I’m Vincent Madden.” Vincent’s eyes twinkled as he leaned in closer. “But don’t change the subject. It’s okay to find me attractive. Most women do.” He gave Mariah a wink and I swear, she actually sighed dreamily.
Feeling flustered, I took a step forward, unwilling to back down. “Well, the fact that you’re in a criminal motorcycle gang makes you unattractive to me. I’m one woman who doesn’t find you attractive in the slightest.”