by Riley Ashby
“What aren’t you telling us?”
He tapped the pen up and down on the table. He licked his lips and started to speak, closing his mouth at the last second.
“Spit it out, Shawn!”
He froze as he looked at me. “It was Anita.”
We were too stunned to move for a second, and then Conrad slammed his open palm against the window. The sound reverberated through the room, and I felt the vibration in my teeth.
I shot a meaningful glance at the lawyer. He opened his mouth to protest, but a look from Conrad changed his mind.
“I’ll be in my office,” the lawyer said and made a hasty exit.
Standing, I leaned across the table to Shawn. “What the fuck do you mean it was Anita?”
He swallowed, looking at his hands. “She told me she had a contact who couldn’t make deals in the US, so she wanted to facilitate it. That’s why the investment was so big. Some of it was her money, money you’ve given her over the years.” He nodded at Conrad without meeting his eyes. “She’d been saving it up without telling anyone.”
Conrad swiped his laptop off the table, sending it slamming into the wall. “And I’ll bet you got a nice private cut too, didn’t you?”
I thought that he was actually going to hit Shawn. He was shaking with the restraint of holding himself back.
Shawn wet his lips before speaking again. “It seemed like a good deal. Huge influx of cash, giant new business partner. I didn’t think she would do anything to sabotage the company.”
I felt like I’d been hit in the face with a bag of bricks. “She’s not sabotaging the company; she’s sabotaging me.” She’d always wanted to be more involved, but Conrad wouldn’t let her. He said it wasn’t her place. “Guess she found a way to participate after all.”
“That little bitch,” Conrad muttered, but his tone had changed. He was smiling.
He was unbelievable. “She’s going to destroy everything, Conrad.”
“I might just let her. It took a lot of balls to pull this off.”
“She just needed Shawn’s balls.”
Shawn had the nerve to flip me off.
“And she’s at home relaxing while we fight to figure this out.” I stood and started to the door, picking up my jacket from where I had thrown it when I walked in.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’m bringing her in. She caused this mess, and she’s going to fix it.”
“Not a chance. You’re not putting your sister in the spotlight like this.”
I turned and threw my arms in the air. “She did this to herself! First, you let her get off with trying to murder Maddie, and now—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Shawn rose to his feet. “Anita tried to kill Madeline? I thought that was an accident.”
“She pushed her into the water after slamming her head into the dock and making sure she wouldn’t be able to swim.” My hand was on the door, but I couldn’t leave. Not without being dismissed by Conrad. “Maddie nearly froze and drowned.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t that dramatic.” Conrad narrowed his eyes at me. “Since when do you call her Maddie?”
Even Shawn picked up on the tension. He shifted back in his seat, trying not to move his head too obviously between us.
“Stop trying to minimize her actions.” I ignored the question and stopped myself just short of jabbing my finger at him. “The doctor thinks Madeline has a concussion, and that didn’t come from hitting the water. Anita needs to take responsibility for this.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“Like you handled her this morning? She didn’t even look sorry.”
Conrad wasn’t looking at me anymore. Instead, he was staring at the TV on the wall, muted but showing news coverage of our building and our company. And there, on the screen, was Madeline and me stepping out of our car, hands clasped as I pulled her toward the door.
I bit back a curse. How had someone gotten into the parking garage? How had we not noticed them fucking filming us? The words across the screen speculated as to the reason for her being here, from her complicity in our crimes to whether she was working to try to mitigate the damage. I blinked and looked away as Conrad stepped forward, eyes boring into me. “Is that bitch in my office building?”
“I couldn’t leave her alone. Anita would have—”
Conrad was past me and through the door before I could think. I ran after him, panic rising in my chest, hearing Shawn following in our heels. I didn’t want him to see this, but I couldn’t lose even a second to turn around and dismiss him. I had to stop Conrad from getting to her. If he saw her here now, today, he was going to kill her. He was going to take her from me permanently, and I wouldn’t be able to stop him because I was weak, weak, weak, just as I had been my whole life.
I had never wanted to protect anyone besides myself. Everything about my existence was centered on avoiding a beating, getting enough food, and earning the right to sleep through the night. But I couldn’t let him hit her again. The night he brought her to me I had been so drunk, but I still felt every kick as though it had hit me and not her. I had no desire to see any of Madeline’s blood outside her body ever again. I would open a vein and give her mine if that was what it took to keep her intact.
“Dad, wait,” I begged as he tugged on the door to my office.
“Open this now,” he said, not responding.
“I wasn’t going to leave her at home. I don’t want Anita wandering around my house looking for her.”
“I don’t think that’s why she’s here,” he growled, whirling on me and pointing at the door. “Open this.”
“Dad, please, I’m handling her.”
“Then let me see for myself!”
“What is going on here?” Shawn’s voice snapped us both to attention. “You guys are freaking me out.” He looked at me pointedly. “Is she okay? Why are you talking about ‘handling’ her?”
“This is none of your business.” Conrad’s looks could kill, but Shawn stood his ground. “You’ve done enough damage today. Stay out of our family business.”
“I’m not leaving until I make sure Madeline is okay.” Shawn frowned. “It’s not going to be good press if there’s a dead girl behind that door.”
“She’s not dead!” I exclaimed, horrified by the thought but turned back around when I heard a sudden crash. Conrad was kicking in the door. And I couldn’t do anything but stand there and watch.
Madeline
I was able to make some real progress locked in Meyer’s office. Caroline had been calling donors ever since the news hit but was unable to get ahold of them. With my phone and their personal numbers, I called to assure them I was still involved in the organization and managed to secure some emergency donations. It would help a lot of the people who had been hurt, but ultimately, the damage had already been done. All we could do was focus on keeping more people from dying.
I heard shuffling outside the door and almost opened it before I remembered what Meyer had told me. Pausing with my hand above the doorknob, I listened to the angry voices outside. I heard Meyer, Shawn … and Conrad.
“Fuck,” I muttered, running back over to the desk and slamming shut my laptop. I threw it underneath the desk and put my phone in a drawer, then ruffled my hair to look disheveled. By the time the door opened, I had worked myself into tears, but I didn’t need to act to huddle deeper into the corner when Conrad reached for me.
This was it. The showdown. Meyer had to stand up for me now.
He sidled next to me as I rose to my feet, and I resisted the urge to wrap my hand around his bicep. I clenched my jaw and tried to tamp down the roiling in my stomach.
“What did you have to do with this?” Conrad roared at me. Spittle landed on my face.
Play dumb. “What are you talking about? Meyer doesn’t tell me anything. I don’t know why he dragged me here today.”
His face was an inch from mine. “I don’t believe you.”
Be
fore I could think better of it, I reared back and drilled my forehead into Conrad’s face. He jerked away at the last second, but I still landed a pretty good blow. I didn’t get to savor the victory as he landed a heavy slap across my face a moment later. I fell down, my head ringing.
“Conrad, what the fuck?” Shawn yelled.
Meyer was on his knees next to me, desperately tugging me to my feet. He let him hit me. After everything, he still didn’t defend me.
“Be quiet,” he begged me, so low I could barely hear him. Digging his fingers into my arm, he raised his voice. “Apologize to him for—”
“I will never apologize to him or you.” My voice was fire and rage, and he jumped back from the hatred burning in my eyes. His grip loosened, and I shook free. Conrad frowned.
I turned back to Meyer. Was he not going to even try to stand up for me? What the hell was wrong with this family? “Do you honestly think that there is anything my mother could have done that would warrant this treatment of her daughter?”
He opened his mouth to reply, but I had already turned around, stalking toward Conrad. Meyer reached out and snatched my arm again, but I strained against him. I could feel my skin bruising beneath his touch, but I didn’t care. I was fury personified. I didn’t have to take this, regardless of whether Meyer would back me up. I stared down Conrad as his son attempted to control me. “You may have him fooled, but you will never win over my mind. I know what kind of monster you are. You deserve to die a thousand deaths and rot in a shallow grave. I can’t wait until you’re dead so that I can go about dismantling everything you’ve built.”
Conrad’s face was turning a dark shade of crimson, his fingers twitching with the urge to hit me again. Meyer yanked me back, out of his reach, but he couldn’t shut me up.
“I will drag your name through the mud until there is no hope of it ever being clean. And even when the entire world knows what you’ve done—”
“Madeline!” Meyer yelled at the top of his lungs, but I didn’t hear.
“—I will never cease to remind your descendants of the true filth that you are. They won’t go a day without being reminded of your transgressions, even if I have to remind them myself.”
His fist flew, but Meyer pulled me back at the last second, throwing out his own arm to take the blow. Conrad’s fist hit his bone with a sickening thud. My stomach turned. Despite how angry I was at Meyer, I jumped forward to pull him back, switching our roles in an instant, but he threw me away. I collided with Shawn, who was watching the scene agape.
Conrad didn’t stop. He kept swinging, even when Meyer moved his body fully in front of me. I was vaguely aware of Shawn yelling something and pushing me behind him. He tried to hold back Conrad, but that only earned him an elbow to the face. I threw myself on Conrad’s back, grabbing for his throat, but he dragged me over his shoulder and slammed me to the ground. I grunted as my breath flew from my lungs. I braced for another hit, but Meyer was on top of me again, one of his arms against my stomach and the other in front of his face. Conrad slammed his fist into Meyer’s bicep twice, then his shoulder, twisting his body around before Meyer finally fell to my side. Conrad was panting like a dog. Meyer kept his eyes on the ground, but I could tell he was listening intently, judging the room.
“Meyer,” I whispered, but he never acknowledged he heard.
At some point, he must have decided it was safe to look up, eyes rising only as high as his father’s chest.
Conrad pointed at me. “Since when are you protecting that little bitch from what she has coming to her?”
His words snapped the silence in the room. “What the fuck is going on here?” Shawn demanded, but Conrad wheeled on him and backed him up against the wall.
“Get. Out.”
Shawn looked from Conrad to me, obviously torn, but I shook my head minutely. He shut his mouth and ran out, looking over his shoulder only once more.
I couldn’t manifest my anger. All of it was gone as I scrambled to my feet and pulled at Meyer, who moved as if through water. I stared at him, willing him to look at me, but he kept his eyes on the man who had just assaulted him. His arm hung awkwardly at his side.
“You said she was mine.” He sounded so in control, but I could read the pain in his face. “Let me take care of this.” He grabbed my wrist, twisting my arm behind my back. My gasp wasn’t for show—he was putting too much pressure on my shoulder.
“And what have you done? A couple of public appearances, making her look like she’s living in the lap of luxury.”
“It’s killing her mother.”
“How the hell would you know?” Conrad sneered
“Because she told me!”
We both stared at him. They’d spoken? I assumed he must have gotten those letters through a drop or delivery of some sort—not that she would have come to him in person.
Conrad snapped out of his stupor first. “When the fuck did you see her? Why didn’t you bring her to me?”
“I don’t answer to you!” Meyer raised his arm to point, but it caused his entire body to tremble. “We kidnapped one person. I wasn’t about to take another.” He reached into his jacket pocket with his left hand, pulling out a piece of paper that looked like it had been folded a dozen times. “She gave me this.”
My eyes widened as his father opened the letter. “But you—”
“For God’s sake, for once in your life, shut up.” I cowered beneath his icy gaze. His fingernails dug into my arm.
“Jesus, that woman is a piece of work.” We looked back at Conrad, shaking his head and laughing as he crumpled the piece of paper in his hands and threw it in the corner. “Maybe I underestimated you, Meyer. You’re clearly doing better than I expected you to.” His eyes flicked to me. “Did he show you this? He did, didn’t he? That’s why you’ve been so compliant recently.” He laughed deeply, shaking his head. “Very well, Meyer. Carry on. Have some fun tonight; I’ll take care of this little kerfuffle.” He turned on his heel and walked away.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Meyer’s voice was a low hiss as the door swung shut behind his father. He broke away from me to lock the door before remembering it was broken. I rubbed my shoulder gratefully—he hadn’t held back on me. But I froze as he rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing a deep red bruise on his forearm.
Seeing my gaze, he dropped his arm and reached to grab me again, but I jumped out of the way. I couldn’t forget what had started this.
“Don’t fucking put this on me. Every time, Meyer. Every fucking time, you cave to him. Your sadistic father is the one nursing a nearly thirty-year-old grudge against his former kidnapped slave, and you’re enabling him.”
The way he ran at me I thought he was going to follow through on his father’s punch, and I flinched. He stopped about an inch from my face. I could smell his aftershave mixed with rage and … fear. He was afraid.
I’m always afraid.
“Don’t you ever say that. I know my father is a menace toward me, but this bullshit about her being some poor child kidnapped and forced to lie down for him has to stop. Your mother—”
“Was nineteen when she had me. Younger than I am now. You were eight when she left, and you knew her”—I spit at his feet—“for four years before that. Do the math.”
I saw a hundred emotions flicker across his face in under a second.
“I don’t believe you.”
“How fucking hard is it to believe, Meyer? I’m twenty-two. She’s forty-one. And she escaped your father on his thirtieth birthday, twenty-two years ago. Am I wrong?”
He was frozen. Without really thinking about it, my hand shot out and wrapped around his bruise. He stifled a groan as I squeezed.
“Am I fucking wrong?”
He jerked back, pushing me so hard I fell to the ground. “Get the fuck off me.”
I crawled to my feet. He stood in front of the door for a few seconds, then slammed his fist into the wall. When he pulled back his fist, there was a hole in
the drywall.
“God-fucking-dammit!” He wheeled on me now, walking back toward me with purpose. I scrambled backward and tried to run to the bathroom, but he caught up to me. He pushed me against the wall, pinning me with his body.
I screamed in his face. It was the only way I knew how to communicate with him. “Tell me I’m wrong!”
“You’re wrong!” He was screaming too, voice too high and laced with fury.
I laughed, and it sounded harsh even to my own ears. “Your dad likes to fuck little girls, Meyer. Nothing you can do will change that. Didn’t your own mother die in childbirth? Kids who have barely started puberty aren’t supposed to have babies. And you can’t take a girl to the hospital when you’ve been raping her for years on end.”
“She left me here!” he screamed, slamming his fist into the wall next to my head once, twice, three times. The drywall cracked around his hand and fell like fine snow onto my shoulder and the floor. “She said she’d never leave me, and she did! She left me alone with him!” I braced myself to feel that fist against the back of my head, to feel the drywall crack against my face. But the blow never came. He fell back.
I turned slowly, but Meyer was ignoring me. He was on his knees, cradling his hand against his belly.
I tried to hold onto the anger that had propelled me this far. The pure fury that made me unafraid of any blow that either of these men could have dealt me faded when I saw him so broken.
But my lover, my tormentor, my mother’s other child was on the floor holding his broken hand with tears streaming down his cheeks, eyes boring into the floor as if the pattern on the carpet might hold the answers he was looking for. He made no effort to clear his face or hide his emotion. I’d seen enough vulnerable parts of him now that it didn’t matter. He’d fallen apart in front of me a little bit every day since I met him, and that house of cards he’d been so precariously balancing had finally become too unstable to stand any longer. He needed help. I was a helper. I had no choice.
