“Okay.” He sighed. “I’ll agree to that.”
“There’s more…” I looked up when I saw Steve, one of my father’s new bodyguards, walk into the room.
“Mr. Prescott.” Steve stopped in his steps like a soldier addressing a general. “There’s a woman here to see you—a Miss Hannah Clark. She says it’s important.”
“Anabelle, I apologize.” My father winced. “I have to speak with Miss Clark. We can finish this discussion later, right?”
“Yeah.” I shrugged. “I guess so.”
“Steve.” My father stood up and turned to his bodyguard. “I think I would like for you to stay with Anabelle going forward. I don’t want her leaving the house alone after what happened the other night.”
“Yes sir.” Steve nodded immediately.
Great, now I have a dog just like the ones that follow my father around when he leaves the house.
Present day
The realization was inside me—a brutal, emotional rage was forming. My father lied to me. He manipulated me. He killed John in cold-blood, just so he could pin the murder on Rourke and Brody. Everything started to click in my head. The way my father lured me into his office when I was about to go to the South Side—the way he tossed a problem at me, something he had never done before—and gave in to my suggestion without a single reaction about the fact I was seeing someone. He knew. He had already offered Rourke a million dollars to go away—and when Rourke declined, he set his plan in motion.
I was a pawn in a game I didn’t even know I was playing. My father’s iron-will melted after he had me in the palm of his hand. He needed my testimony, but that wasn’t all it was about. If what Rourke said was true, and my father really was a dangerous man, then he could have gotten someone else to kill John. He did it because he needed to bring me back into the fold—to pull me away from the path I was forging with Rourke and Brody. He tried to control me without even telling me what to do—of course, he did. That was what I had known my whole life, but I was starting to rebel against his authority. He couldn’t order me to stop seeing Rourke and Brody because I would have fought him—so he manipulated me into something that was even more sinister than I imagined.
I was sick to my stomach and my head was spinning with despair. I wanted to throw up, but there was nothing in my stomach to hurl. I pulled against the ropes, trying to find strength I didn’t possess—trying to feel any pain that I could bring on myself. I put my feet against the headboard and pulled against my shoulders until my hands past the curve of my hips. I was in agony and it felt like they would rip out of their sockets, but I ignored that pain. Once my hands were in front of me, I pulled the gag out and started gnawing on the rope—tearing it thread by thread as I used my teeth like a knife to dig at the knot—and then it came loose.
I’m free. Now I just have to get the fuck out of here.
Rourke and Brody used my body—but I finally saw why. It wasn’t just about lust—it was to show me that I never fully submitted to them. I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t submit when I had never even had control. I would never be able to be the woman Rourke wanted me to be without fixing what I had done. I had to be broken before I could be rebuilt. I couldn’t face the truth until I had embraced the fact that a lie could even exist—that my father could look me in the face and say something that wasn’t true. I couldn’t find what I needed at the bottom of my despair. I had to rise—well beyond the height of ascension I thought that I knew.
I didn’t deserve Rourke’s love and I certainly didn’t have a heart in my chest to give him—not anymore. It blackened the moment I betrayed them both. It lingered there, keeping me alive without ever truly beating. Brody was a reflection of what I had become—cruel and malicious—with no emotion in his soul. I just couldn’t see my own despair in his eyes. His cruelty had given me strength—strength that Rourke couldn’t give. That’s why Rourke couldn’t punish me and didn’t believe any punishment could bring about my forgiveness. I had to punish myself, and I finally knew what it would cost me.
Everything.
I walked softly across the floor and peeked around the corner. Rourke wasn’t in the cabin—not that I could see. Brody was sitting in a chair staring at the television screen which was playing the same thing over and over based on what I had been listening to. If the bottle next to him was any indication, he was definitely drunk. I walked back across the room to the window. I unlatched it as carefully as I could to avoid making a sound. It opened without much resistance and I started climbing, crawling through the narrow exit I was able to create until my feet hit the dirt outside the cabin—then I started to run.
I saw the path that led to the cabin. That was the best route to follow, but I couldn’t take the road. I had to run parallel to it and stay out of sight. I wasn’t sure how long I would have until they noticed I was gone, but I would have a lot better chance if I was in the woods and able to hide if a car appeared. The ground tore at my feet—sharp rocks that pierced my flesh. The branches scratched my arms, torso, and even my face. I just kept running—ignoring the pain, because I could take it. They taught me to take it. There was no amount of pain that could be inflicted on my flesh that matched what I was feeling inside. That pain hadn’t even shredded me yet—not completely. But it would.
The king has to fall.
And a princess isn’t going to take his place.
I have to become the queen of my castle and seize control of the Prescott name.
I am fury unleashed and I will have my fucking revenge.
Brody
“Okay, princess. Time for you to give me another taste of that sweet—fuck.” I unzipped my pants, turned the corner, and stared at an empty bed—empty except for the knotted rope we had around Anabelle’s wrists.
Damn it!
“Rou
rke! We have a fucking problem!” I ran into the living room with my cock still hanging out of my pants. “She’s gone!”
“Yes.” Rourke nodded. “I know.”
“What the fuck do you mean, you know?” I zipped up quickly and grabbed my car keys. “Come on, we have to track her down!”
“No.” Rourke shook his head back and forth. “There’s no reason to worry. She’s not a threat to us anymore.”