And if the person who hurt you is powerful, you sure as hell won't be prepared for the lawyers who will come after you.
College doesn’t prepare you for the odd side glances people give you when they learn you are a survivor of sexual assault.
”Were there any witnesses?” they’d ask. “Well, was there something you did that might have given him the wrong idea?”
“I went to his room,” you’d say, and everything else after that doesn’t matter. You went to his room, and that means you must have wanted it.
College doesn’t prepare you for the pity that comes with being a survivor, the doubt, and worst of all the disgust, like your trauma is contagious, and soon you learn to keep it buried like it’s a shameful secret. You let yourself become a statistic.
You’ll learn to keep it buried like I did, but one day you might find that wound you thought had healed had only been festering in the darkness.
Gabriel’s revelation last night had ripped the band-aid off that wound, and in that moment I couldn’t face him.
His son.
I knew this had nothing to do with Gabriel, but I couldn't help the paralyzing horror that had choked me last night. His words had shaken me to the core—that the man I’d just made love to was the son of the man who assaulted me a year ago. I’d been utterly horrified.
But I wasn’t confused—Gabriel wasn’t his father. Where Jacob Kline had been cruel and callous, Gabriel’s touch had been patient, his lips at once gentle and demanding. Soft yet firm, and never hurtful.
Part of me wanted desperately to see him, but I didn’t think I could handle the pain, not right now.
Right now I needed space.
Right now I needed to get to work.
I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. I was wasting my time going round in circles like this. I should be focused on taking down the man who had hurt me and countless other women, not Gabriel with his careless flirting that undid me and his warm smiles that made my heart beat so loud I thought he would hear it.
Gabriel was safety, a warm sanctuary that I wanted to run to and hide away from the world. Even now, all I could see was his dark, bottomless eyes burning with desire as he lowered his head to mine.
But hiding would do me no good right now.
I sat at the tiny work desk by my bed and picked up my phone, dialing the number of the woman I was finally ready to speak with again. I had put this off for far too long.
“Isabella!” I put on my most cheerful voice when the call connected. “It’s me. Lena Hastings. Do you remember me?”
“Of course I do, mija,” came Isabella’s warm voice. “How are you?”
“I’m great.” I heard loud squalls in the background, and my heart stuttered a beat. Isabella had a child now.
“I’ve been working on the exposé,” I continued.
There was a pause on her end, and I sensed her hesitation. My heart sank, but I barreled on.
“It’s going well, and in fact it’s almost done,” I said with false brightness. “All that’s missing is your account. I wanted to ask if you were ready. I can meet you anytime and any place at your convenience.”
“Lena,” Isabella began, and right away I knew what she was about to tell me. It was the same thing the other women said to me when I approached them too.
“Lena, I’m so sorry.”
My heart plummeted to my stomach.
“Don’t say that.” Heat began to sting at my eyes. “Please, I need your account. Without it everything is meaningless.”
“Mija—”
“Don’t you want justice?” I pleaded. “What about all the other women he’s hurt?”
What about me?
“I have a daughter now, mija,” Isabella said gently. “I have a family now.”
“But—”
“Kline will come after everyone I love. I will not put my family through that.” Isabella’s quiet voice grew firm. “I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry, but you need to ask somebody else.”
An apologetic pause, and then the line went dead. I was left clutching the silent phone to my face, frozen in shock and despair.
Isabella didn’t know it, but there was nobody else. She was the last person I had, the only one left who had agreed to go on record. Everyone else had bailed, too afraid of what would happen if they went against him.
And they weren’t wrong to be afraid. Kline would have destroyed everything precious to them.
“Fuck,” I choked brokenly. “Fuck!”
My phone clattered to the floor as I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes. Furious, helpless tears came, but just like a year ago I was powerless to do anything.
But there is one person left, a quiet voice in my head said.
My mind felt like it was drifting a million miles away from my body, but in that despairing moment I knew what it was I had to do.
This was it, I realized dimly. In a small, dark corner of my mind I’d always known it would come down to this, even if I couldn’t bring myself to acknowledge it.
Fucking bitch, you wanted this.
Dark, horrifying memories flooded into my mind like a tsunami, nearly paralyzing me.
You’ve been teasing me the whole fucking night!
I shook my head sharply, my hands and feet going cold from my growing panic.
I had come too far to let this all go to waste. Now that it was finally here I had to do it. I had to. I didn’t know if I’d ever get another chance like this.
He won’t even remember you, I assured myself. My breathing was shallow from long-buried fear and my limbs were shaking.
But I got on my feet anyway, and started to get ready.
***
I’d never know if it was desperation or stupidity that propelled me, but at ten that night, I found myself parked just outside the party location in the Hamptons.
To say that it was a mansion did not do justice to the place. From my research, it was a 42-acre estate owned by the Berling family, including a freshwater lake and two yachts, a tennis court, a greenhouse, a golf course, and the main house which towered over the green plains like a monolith rising from the ground.
It was still early for the party, but already several cars had passed me on my way up, roaring up the cobblestone driveway to the main house. Every single one of them had been luxury makes, and my beat-up Honda was sure to raise some eyebrows. I would need to get out before making my way to the main estate.
I listened closely for the sound of approaching cars as I slipped off my sneakers and put on a pair of heeled sandals. It was strappy and flimsy, but also the only pair of heels I had that would match the outfit I had bought and stowed away at the back of my wardrobe all those months ago. The maroon leather skirt was short and form-fitting, and the shoulder straps of the black top were practically strings, with the neckline dipping down to my cleavage. A trail of buttons led the way to my navel.
The outfit wasn’t anything like what I usually chose. I would have felt safer in a pair of jeans and a sweater, but it was important that I wore this outfit in particular tonight.
For one, the black buttons on the top camouflaged my spy cam perfectly. The mini camera was disguised exactly like the other buttons on my top, and when I’d attached it to the topmost buttonhole, I couldn’t tell the difference myself. The memory device was the size of a flash drive, tucked away under the fabric and against my skin, and the belt around my waist held a mic and muffler that would pick up every conversation I had tonight.
Everything was hidden perfectly. I guess I knew that it would come down to this one day.
I checked myself in the glove compartment mirror one last time. My hair was down to my waist in loose waves, and I’d managed with some light makeup and lipstick.
To any other person, I would look like a woman who was simply here to party and have fun.
But to him, I would look like prey.
My gaze narrowed in the mirror.
Kline didn’t know this yet, but th
is time his prey was fighting back.
After pausing to make sure no cars were coming in my direction, I eased out of the side road I had parked in and made my way on foot up the small hill to the mansion. The main doors of the building were thrown wide open, and there was already music and laughter coming from inside.
Before I could step in, a burly security guy at the door blocked my way with his arm.
“Entry pass, please,” he said politely but firmly.
I forced my widest smile as I fished out my phone from my clutch and showed him the access pass that Gabriel had emailed me.
The man scanned the barcode with his handheld device. “Lena Watkins?”
I blinked in surprise. Gabriel must have thought that Helena Hastings would be blacklisted as a tabloid writer.
A surge of pain tightened in my chest at the thought of him, but I ruthlessly quashed it.
“Yes,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady and confident. “I’m Gabriel Easton’s friend.”
“He’s not here tonight.” The security guy handed the pass back to me and waved me through. “Enjoy, Ms. Watkins.”
I quickly slipped by him with a murmured thanks.
Gabriel isn’t here, I thought as I made my way into the sizable crowd. A feeling of apprehension flooded me, and I realized bleakly how much I’d hoped that somehow he’d show up.
But I knew I had to do this alone. I had spent the past year shoring up my walls and tucking away all my emotions, focusing only on one single goal.
It would only make it harder if Gabriel were here. I’d want so desperately to go to him and tell him everything I had planned. He would chide me and tell me that what I was doing was dangerous and foolish. He’d take me home and make sure I was safe.
I wanted nothing more than to go to him, and because of that he couldn’t be here.
My mouth tightened painfully, and all of a sudden I felt like crying from frustration. I’d known Gabriel for mere days. Days. I shouldn’t be so quick to rely on him. I was stronger than this.
Steeling myself, I yanked my mind back to my task at hand. After double-checking on my phone that my hidden camera and mic were working, I glanced around the area, looking for Kline.
I spotted him almost instantly, over in the corner with a group of people.
Now that I knew Gabriel was his son, there was no denying their similarities. Thick brown hair. Tall broad frame. A charming smile that disarmed anyone it was directed at.
The difference was that Gabriel would never hurt me, and Kline was a monster.
I headed to the bar to get a glass of water to calm myself, but it did little for my tremors. I clenched the glass so hard in my hands that I thought it might shatter.
From where I was I could hear his voice and his laugh, the very same one from my nightmares, from the countless videos and interviews of him I’d forced myself to watch, telling myself I’d stop him one day.
You can do this. You have to do this.
I turned towards him blindly, seeking him out. He was mere feet away from me now, talking with a friend. As his eyes caught mine, they widened—not in recognition, but in lust.
My throat clammed up, choking me. Heat surged in my eyes as I met the gaze of the man who’d tried to rape me a year ago. His lips curved as he excused himself from his friend and made his way to me.
No one will believe you.
He was ten feet from me now.
You wanted this.
Five feet.
I set my water aside on the bar, the glass clinking on the marble surface. I had a sudden hysterical thought that Gabriel might actually be here after all, that he’d swoop in suddenly and take me away from this waking nightmare.
But no one came, and a moment later that man was standing before me, close enough that I could smell his overpowering cologne. The same scent that he wore the night he’d choked me.
“Hey beautiful.” White, blinding teeth that looked like a snarl to me. “Have we met before?”
You’re a fucking nobody, and I am everything.
“I don’t think so.”
No one will believe you, you bitch.
“What do you say we get to know each other a little better?”
I returned his smile, hiding my trembling hands behind my back.
“I’d want nothing more,” I said.
After tonight, they will all believe me.
Sick, that’s what this was. It was completely, totally fucked up. Lena had been hurt, by none other than the man who contributed half my DNA.
When she told me this last night I had been sick to my stomach. By the time morning came around, I was out of my mind with fury.
Jacob Kline had hurt her, had hurt countless women, and I had his blood flowing in my veins.
I paced the floor of my bedroom, unable to get Lena’s stricken face out of my mind. When she cried I’d nearly ripped apart everything in the room. The stark pain on her face had nearly killed me.
Right now I wanted nothing more than to see her, but I couldn’t even call. It has been a twenty hours since we last spoke and the silence from her was killing me.
Leave me alone, please. That’s all I’m asking.
“Fuck!” I slammed my fist into the wall, taking the blinding pain that shot up my arm as punishment.
My father, a predator. I wanted to throw up.
Who else knew that Kline was up to shit like this? Did Gran know? Did my mother? Was she one of his victims?
I pounded the wall again half-heartedly, feeling like the whole world had just given way under my feet.
How did I not know? That was the question weighing on me since last night. Had there been signs that I was blind to simply because ugliness did not exist in Gabriel Easton’s world?
“Fuck.” My voice was raw with anguish.
I wanted to go to Lena and take her in my arms and make her forget all the ugly things that had happened to her.
But I knew from the horror in her eyes that it was over between us. She’d shrank away from me, and I knew she regretted ever letting me touch her.
We were over even before we started. Nothing could change the fact that Kline’s blood was flowing in my veins.
God, I wanted to rip my skin out. I wanted to see her so damned badly. Would give anything for it.
I briefly considered waiting below her apartment to spot her if she stepped outside, just so I’d know she was okay.
Then suddenly, I recalled the entry I got her for the private party at Berling’s tonight.
My heart stopped.
For research, Lena had said—she had been talking about Kline.
An urgent ringing in my ears started as I shot out a text to Liam Berling:
Is Kline gna be at ur party?
The reply came a moment later.
Yes.
I grabbed my car keys and sprinted out.
The party was on by the time I pulled up in the Berling Mansion garage. I did a hack job of parking as I stumbled out and sprinted round to the front doors where the guy who handled entry was waiting.
“Lena Watkins,” I burst. “Is she here?”
“Evening, Mr. Easton. Yes, she arrived half an hour ago.”
Thirty minutes. Cold sweat rose on my skin. Thirty minutes didn’t sound like much in the grand scheme of things, but a lot could also happen in thirty minutes.
“Jacob Kline.” My voice was sharp. “What about him?”
“He’s here as well, sir—”
I didn’t hear the rest as I shoved my way through the front doors and into the mansion.
Kline is here, the chilling voice in my head said. He is here where Lena is.
My suspicions had been right. I knew without a shred of doubt now that Lena had come tonight for him, and it frightened me.
I scanned the massive area that was filled with throngs of drunk partiers, praying that I’d find Lena’s face amongst them. Hell, even finding Kline might be a good thing. It meant he wasn’t with her.
/> But neither of them were here. The nagging feeling I had the whole night turned into needles stabbing frantically into my skin.
It was fear, I realized with a dull numbness. I was terrified out of my wits. Lena could be hurt somewhere in this massive place while I was running around like a hapless fool.
Meanwhile the area was dark and loud and lit only with flashing LEDs, making my search for her even slower.
I heard some people yelling out my name from the crowd, but none of the voices belonged to Lena. I angled past throngs of people, desperately searching the crowd for her, and when the people didn’t give way I started outright shoving them aside.
She’s not here. I stabbed my hand into my hair.
Fuck me, where the hell were they? Think think think—
“He took me up to his room,” Lena had told me last night. He had lured her into a room.
Cursing viciously, I shoved my way towards the back of the massive Berling mansion where I knew the entertaining rooms were.
I passed Liam Berling on my way but didn’t stop to talk. He must have sensed that something was wrong, because he came at me with questions that I barely heard and didn’t answer.
I came upon the first door and threw the heavy oak open.
A smaller intimate party was underway in the dim room, but none of them were Lena or Kline.
I went to the next room, barreling past Berling who was by now looking annoyed and bewildered.
“Hey!” He grabbed my arm before I could get to the next door but I shoved him off.
“The fuck you think you’re doing?” he snapped.
I ignored him, throwing open the doors one by one and scanning the room for Lena or Kline.
The reading room, the tea room, the billiards room—none of the people in there were Lena. With every person that wasn’t her I grew more frantic and desperate.
“LENA!” I bellowed over the music. “Lena, where the hell are you!”
Berling’s confusion barely registered to me as I pounded down doors that were locked, not letting up until the people inside opened them with looks of bewilderment.
Charming (New York Heirs #3) Page 15
