Until We Fly

Home > Contemporary > Until We Fly > Page 22
Until We Fly Page 22

by Courtney Cole


  William waits for me at the far end of the massive conference table.

  “Come in, my dear,” he calls. Even his voice sounds like an old man, thin and frail. I swallow my disgust and approach him, keeping my eyes carefully on him as I stop across the table from him.

  He smiles.

  “Now, was this so hard? Really, my dear, meeting with me didn’t have to be this way.”

  “I know what meeting with you is like,” I manage to bite. “Why did you want to see me today? Let’s just cut to the chase.”

  William nods, satisfied. “You’re such a Greene, Nora. So ready to do what you need to do.”

  My stomach rolls.

  “What do you want?” I ask stiltedly. My fingers are gripping the edge of the table so tightly that I can’t feel them anymore.

  William rocks back in his chair.

  “I want to tell you a little bit about your boyfriend, of course. You’re so young and inexperienced… I know you probably didn’t do a background check on him. Right?”

  I roll my eyes. “That’s what you’ve got? I don’t need a background check. I know him. He’s a decorated Army Ranger, a hero who saved my life. That’s all I need to know.”

  William chuckles, a thin fake sound in the quiet room. “Oh, my dear, you’re so naïve. Your boyfriend is an Army Ranger. But I doubt he told you why.”

  I can tell from William’s voice that I’m not going to like what he’s going to say next. I wish I could close my ears and not listen, but I have to know.

  William won’t give me a choice.

  I don’t say anything, so he continues.

  “Branden Killien attacked his father right after he graduated high school,” William says with satisfaction, his faded eyes gleaming. “His parents pressed charges and the judge suspended the sentence if Branden would agree to join the military.”

  I’m stunned.

  I’m not mad at Brand, because honestly, after hearing about his father and seeing his mother in action, I don’t blame him. In fact, I commend him for waiting so long. But I am surprised that he didn’t mention it.

  William enjoys the look on my face.

  “I see he didn’t mention it to you,” he says cheerfully. “I can see why. He thinks his records are sealed, so he never had to worry about telling you the truth. But see, my dear, nothing is sealed to me. I have connections everywhere. Which brings me to my point today.”

  He pauses and I wait. I stare him down, my gaze unflinching.

  Fuck you, you fucking monster.

  “I’m sure Brand doesn’t want it known that the only reason he ever served his country was as a punishment for assault and battery. His company is successful in large part because of his and his partner’s decorated military history. The connections I have in the pentagon… they wouldn’t be very happy to know that they’re doing business with a fraud.”

  My head snaps up.

  “Brand isn’t a fraud,” I spit. “No one would ever think so.”

  William nods, very happy with my reaction, happy that he’s getting one.

  “They would believe that if I told them to. They would publicly withdraw their business and cite their reasons… that Branden is a fraud, a criminal, if I told them to. And when that happens, Brand’s company would go bankrupt. He’d be ruined and left with nothing.”

  My breath leaves my body in a rush, even though I desperately try not to show it. “They wouldn’t,” I say, attempting to call his bluff. “His company does a good job. They would have no reason.”

  William drums his fingers casually on the table, as if we’re having a friendly, normal conversation.

  “My dear,” he says, ever-so-sweetly. “They would do anything I ask them to do. That’s how much weight I pull in Washington.”

  I stare at him and his eyes narrow as he gets up and walks toward me.

  I have to fight to remain still, to stand my ground.

  “You can’t run from me.”

  He takes another step toward me, then another.

  “I always get what I want.”

  He stops right in front of me, close enough that I have to breathe in his hateful cologne, and smell his fetid, hot breath.

  “Ask me, Nora.”

  I turn my gaze up to meet his. His eyes are as cold as they are faded and old.

  I seal my lips, unwilling to do it.

  “Ask. Me.”

  He grabs one of my hands and squeezes it, pushing the delicate bones of my hands together. I grit my teeth with the pain.

  He squeezes harder.

  “What do you want?” I finally ask, to make him quit hurting me.

  “You.”

  I fight the urgent need to vomit.

  “He’s getting in the way of what I want,” William says pleasantly now, releasing my hand. “I want you to leave his cottage, and come with me for a trip to Abu Dhabi. We’ll say it’s for business. But I assure you, it won’t be business.”

  His hand juts out and cups my crotch, his fingernails digging into my tender flesh there, biting into me. He likes pain. I know this. I’ve experienced it before. He likes inflicting pain.

  I step backward, yanking away from him, from his evil touch.

  “You don’t want me. You wanted my mother and you couldn’t have her. I’m not my mother.”

  William’s wrinkled mouth pulls into a cynical smile. “What a clever girl you are. It might’ve started out that way, I wanted you because your mother had to watch me chase you and she could never do anything about it because she’s a helpless cunt. But I want you now. Your mother is old.”

  So are you. I swallow the acid on my tongue.

  “And if I say no?”

  William raises a bushy eyebrow, as if he knows I’d never dare.

  “If you said no, you’d be a very foolish girl. I’ll ruin your meat-headed boyfriend, then I’ll ruin you. And don’t for one minute think that at least you’d have each other… because after I’m finished with him, he’ll never want you. Not ever. Do you think he’d really want someone who willingly entered into an incestuous affair with her very own uncle and enjoyed it so much?”

  Bile rises into my throat as he pulls out a pack of pictures and shoves them across the table.

  It’s me. Giving my own uncle a blow job.

  From the angle of the camera, you can’t see that my hands are bound behind my back. All you can see is the tattoo on my shoulder, a unique identifier. The twisted anchor, the words. Fluctuat nec mergitur. It’s most definitely me.

  And it’s most definitely my uncle. His wrinkled hand is on the back of my head, forcing me to take more of him in my throat… and his very unique signet ring is on his finger.

  My uncle smiles pleasantly as he tucks the pictures back in his pocket.

  “There’s more. There are many of you fucking me, you little whore,” he tells me, each word icy. “And I don’t care if it gets out… you were of legal age and if anyone questions me, I’ll simply say that you’re a wanton whore who pursued me for years and in a moment of drunkenness, I gave in to you. If you look at the pictures, it certainly appears that you’re enjoying yourself.”

  I wasn’t.

  I wasn’t enjoying myself. I was trying to get through it, to not die on the inside.

  But he’s right. You can’t see that on the pictures. In the pictures, my make-up looks smeared from passion, not from tears. You can’t see how my hands are bound, you can’t see the lash-marks from my uncle’s whip.

  You can’t see any of it… except for a girl having sex with her own uncle.

  William stares at me, very sure that I’ll be compliant. “Even if Brand still wanted you somehow after I ruin him,” he says calmly. “He’ll never want you after he sees what a fucked up slut you are.”

  Reality crashes down around me, ugly and hot.

  No one in their right mind would want me after seeing those pictures.

  No matter how I look at it, I’ll lose Brand.

  But I can’t let Bran
d lose everything… not because of me. He’s worked too hard to forget his own ugly past. It wouldn’t be fair if he lost everything now.

  “You have until midnight tomorrow night to leave that cottage,” my uncle says pleasantly. “I’ll meet you at your apartment in California. I know you kept it, even after your father said to let it go. It doesn’t matter. It’ll come in handy for us. We’ll put it to good use until our flight leaves from LAX for Abu Dhabi.”

  I can’t control my vomit.

  I lean to the side and heave, over and over. I empty my stomach, then stand up again, wiping my mouth with my hand.

  “I see we have an understanding,” William nods. “Good. I’ll see you in California, my dear.”

  He turns and starts to leave, but I stop him.

  “What kind of monster are you?” I whisper. “I’m your flesh and blood. You held me when I was a baby. You’re the criminal, not Brand.”

  William actually laughs, but it’s hardened and ugly. “Nora, you and I both know you tried to seduce me from the time you were small. Those bathing suits you used to wear… you always made a point of walking away from me in a way that showed off your tight little ass.”

  Bile bubbles up again. “My ass was little because I was a child,” I spit. “I never tried to seduce you. You’re a sick fuck who preys on children.”

  William stares at me innocently. “I have never preyed on children,” he defends himself. “I didn’t have my way with you until you were an adult, my dear. That’s not a crime.”

  “No, but it’s an abomination,” I tell him, all the while fighting the nausea again.

  “To each their own,” William says easily. “You have until midnight tomorrow night to leave for California. Don’t be late.”

  He turns and strides from the room and I can still feel where his fingernails cut into my vagina. I rush to the bathroom and run a handful of paper towels under scalding hot water. I can’t take a shower so this is the next best thing. I seclude myself in a bathroom stall, wiping and wiping and wiping, trying to get his finger prints off.

  Before I realize it, I’m sobbing, and I’m in a heap on the floor.

  I have until midnight tomorrow night with Brand.

  I don’t dare defy William.

  He’ll ruin everything I have. He’ll bring my entire world down around me in shreds and tatters, but that’s not what I care about.

  All that I care about is…. Brand.

  I can’t let him hurt Brand.

  I glance at my watch.

  Time is ticking.

  The shoe has dropped.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Brand

  I stare at Jacey.

  “What did you say?”

  She swallows her bite of sandwich. “I said, what are you doing with this girl?”

  I roll my eyes. “Not really your business, now is it? When it gets to a point that I think I need to tell you about it, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “In other words,” she scowls. “Never.”

  I grin.

  She takes another bite. “She’s gorgeous, I’ll give you that. But she doesn’t really seem your type. She’s a bit… tightly wound.”

  I shake my head and look out at the lake, remembering how Nora has swam with me out to the buoy. “You think?”

  Jacey nods. “She’s from a snobby family, too. So not your type.”

  I finish up my sandwich and take my plate to the sink. “Jacey, no offense. But you’ve spent years crying on my shoulder over other men. You haven’t once listened to me talking about a woman. You don’t know my type.”

  She stops chewing and stares at me. “Never once?”

  I shake my head. “Never once. I was always listening to you.”

  “God, I was a bitch,” she mutters. “Should I apologize again?”

  I roll my eyes. “Nah. It won’t help now. Just know that I know what I’m doing. And if I want your advice, I’ll ask for it. And thank you for letting me use your cottage to recuperate.”

  She scowls good-naturedly. “Is that what you’re calling it? Recuperation? In a cottage alone with a beautiful woman?”

  I nod. “It’s my story.”

  “And you’re sticking to it. Got it.”

  We banter back and forth for a while, and Jacey chats about life in the UK and I tell her all about what her brother’s been up to in Connecticut.

  “This is nice,” she finally says, leaning up to hug me. “I feel like things are back to where they should be. Finally. I’m sorry for fucking it all up in the first place.”

  “It’s fine,” I tell her as I hug her back. “Seriously.”

  Before Jacey can pull away, the door opens and Nora steps in.

  Of course. Because Jacey still has her arms wrapped around me. Perfect.

  The look on Nora’s face is chilling.

  I step away from Jacey immediately, and reach for Nora.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” I greet her. “Jacey and I were just catching up.”

  Nora nods slowly, not smiling. “I see that.”

  Jacey looks from Nora to me. “Uh. I need to go in to the Hill and see Maria. I’ll be back later. My flight takes off in the morning, so I’ll need to get some sleep.”

  Neither Nora or I answer, so Jacey slips away.

  I stare at Nora.

  “That wasn’t what it looked like.”

  “No?” Nora’s eyebrow is arched.

  “No.” I shake my head. “It was just a hug between friends.”

  Nora stares at me for a moment, her eyes big and sad. Then she nods, the clouds clearing from her face. “Okay.”

  “Okay? Just like that?”

  She nods. “Just like that. I trust you. And there’s better ways to spend my time than to be suspicious of you.”

  “Babe, we’ve always got time to talk about shit. If you feel bad about something, you need to tell me. That’s how people sort things out. Time is cheap. We can afford it.”

  She stares at me sadly and for a minute, I’m bothered. What the hell is with her?

  But then she smiles.

  “You’re right. But I’m fine. Jacey is an old friend. It’s fine.”

  It’s fine. Two of the most dangerous words in the female vocabulary, I’m sure. But I have no other choice than to accept it. So I nod.

  “Good. Now… we have the cottage to ourselves again for the evening. How would you like to spend that time?”

  Nora smiles, a slow smile that finally reaches her eyes, then she reaches for me.

  “I’ve got some ideas.”

  ***

  Nora

  I’ve got to soak him up. Every bit of him, as much as I can. I’ve got

‹ Prev