Broken Chains (Broken Beauty Novellas Book 3)

by Lizzy Ford

  “Madison confessed. The DA is treading carefully with the Connors.”

  I gaze into the empty room on the other side of the window and shiver. “Madison knows where I live.”

  “He’s got a restraining order, and you have a full team of bodyguards.”

  I gaze up at him, wishing he’d give me some sign things will be okay. It’s not Chris’s way. I’m about to piss him off by getting lippy when the door opens, and the DA appears without the two other suits. He and Chris exchange a look.

  “Good,” Chris says. “If you are through with Ms. Abbott-Renou, we’ll be leaving.”

  “Done on my end. You got a tough attorney, Ms. Abbott-Renou.”

  Chris doesn’t respond but opens the door into the hall.

  “Don’t piss him off,” I whisper at the DA as I pass him.

  If Chris hears me, he gives no indication as we walk down the hallway and outside. I suck in deep breaths, unaware of how tight my chest is until I try to breathe more deeply. I’m stressing bad, near freaking out.

  “You’re confident a piece of paper and a few bodyguards will keep him away?” I ask, facing him.

  “I am.”

  We walk outside to the front of the courthouse. Chris starts down the stairs, trailed by his two lackeys.

  “What next?” I ask and scramble after him. I’m getting good at ignoring the paparazzi.

  “Go home. You’re flunking math. You need to study.”

  I stop when we reach the car. Chris’s lackeys get in. Fabio is waiting for me a few feet away, and another bodyguard a hundred feet away, towards my apartment.

  “Seriously? Do my homework? Do you know how lame that is?” I ask. Chris gets into the car, and I hold the door open. “No good-job-for-not-passing-out-Mia or don’t worry, the bad guy won’t get you?”

  “How about a reminder not to mouth off to the DA, the man who doesn’t have to do what your attorney says but does because we went to college together?” Chris climbs out of the car to keep the press from overhearing.

  Surprised, I stare at him a minute then back down. “I’ll do my damn homework.”

  I turn on my heel and walk away. I pissed him off. He’s not joking about pushing back. Instead of being offended, I start to smile. I have a father who cares. He’s about as warm and friendly as a man-eating polar bear, but he’s mine. He’s going to win, even if he drives me crazy in the meantime. Even if winning means Mama never comes home.

  I imagine my advice to the DA is right. Pissing off Chris is not something anyone in his right mind does. If he intends to keep the mother of his kid away forever, what can he do to someone like Robert Connor?

  Molly’s text distracts me. So … you know, it reads.

  I’m not sure what to say to that. I don’t understand the connection between Chris, Mom and my pseudo-siblings, who are in reality my cousins. I’m not about to ask Chris what those relationships are supposed to look like now, and I’m afraid of what Molly will say if I ask her. Instead, I pull up Dom’s name again on my phone and stare at it.

  I’m a coward. He’s gonna hate me.

  He deserves better than me and my jacked up family, I tell myself. I switch to Molly’s text and type a response.

  You don’t hate me?

  She sends me a smiley face in response. I stuff the phone in my pocket.

  Dysfunctional doesn’t begin to describe my family. I have a father who isn’t mine, half-siblings who are cousins, and a mother who’s manipulated everyone to the point she’s being banned from my life. And then there’s Chris.

  I reach my building safely and find Ari waiting for me in the lobby. She hugs me, and we walk into the elevator together. I wait until we’re safe in my apartment.

  “You have to swear you’ll never tell anyone this secret ever,” I say, turning to her.

  “I bet I already know.” Her eyes are twinkling.

  “There’s no way you can possibly know this one.”

  “Chris is your dad?”

  My mouth drops open. She giggles and slings her book bag on the kitchen counter.

  “My dad figured it out, and they had a talk. Dad told me,” she admitted. “He already swore me to silence, but since you brought it up ...”

  “I hate my life.” I scowl at her.

  “I’d rather be Chris’s daughter than Gerard’s.”

  “I’m not sure yet. Chris has rules and shit. Gerard didn’t care what I did.”

  Ari smiles triumphantly about knowing one of my secrets before I do. I make a face at her.

  “Does your family have so many secrets?” I ask.

  “No. We’re pretty normal.”

  “Omigod. There’s nothing normal about owning a bunker or planning escape routes for the zombie apocalypse everywhere you go!”

  “I’d rather live in a bunker than find out I have a different dad!”

  “Ouch!”

  “That’s for not telling me any of your other secrets,” she says, smug.

  “I keep thinking the surprises will end and life will go back to normal,” I say. “That won’t happen, will it?”

  “There can’t be too many more family secrets out there, and no one can come near you now. That leaves … Dom.”

  “Eh. Nothing there,” I say. “Even if there is, Chris will make him agree to a full background investigation. I’ll never be able to date with him as a dad.”

  “At least you don’t have to change your last name.”

  “What?”

  “To Chris’s, since he’s your daddy.”

  “I don’t think I can ever tell anyone else,” I say. “We sound like inbred hillbillies, don’t we?”

  “You have bad luck with families.” She giggles.

  She has a point. There’s never been anything normal about my robot-dad. I don’t know how he got Gerard to change his mind about going public about me. I wish I could ask him. Maybe someday, when all this stuff is over, I can.

  Or maybe, I really don’t want to know. It probably has something to do with money or politics or secrets, because those are the only things anyone in my family respects.

  “He’s been good to me this summer,” I murmur.

  “He still scares me.”

  “I don’t think he scares me anymore.”

  “Dom wouldn’t be scared.”

  I eye Ari. She sighs. Even hearing Dom’s name tanks my mood.

  “I really like him, Ari,” I admit at last.

  “Duh. I knew that all along.”

  “Too bad I fucked it up.”

  “I doubt it’s something that can’t be fixed, if you’d try.”

  I shrug. “Ari, I’m still afraid of my own shadow. I’m terrified of men. I keep thinking, what if he’s like Robert?”

  “You know he’s not. Robert is a psycho.”

  “All men are psychos. Look at Benji.”

  “You know better.”

  I do, but I’m not going to admit it. No matter what I feel, I have to let Dom go.

  14

  School the next day is brutal. The weekend, stress and lack of sleep are catching up to me as the week progresses. I make it and go to soccer practice then take the time to shower and change quickly. I don’t know why, but I feel the urge to dress a little better, maybe because I feel like I owe Molly after all the years she’s posing as my sister.

  Exhausted, I go to community service and pray for it to pass quickly. I text Ari as I enter in forms. I’m in long sleeves and a scarf, which earns me one snide comment from Wendy on the way in. I’m so self-conscious about my neck. It hurts to talk too loudly. I’m trying to remember how long my first set of Robert-inflicted bruises took to heal, because the marks on my neck aren’t getting any lighter yet.

  “Hey.” Dom’s voice makes me freeze.

  I look over past the desk beside me into the hallway. He’s dressed as he was for the self-defense class, when we played basketball. There’s no sling.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “Wanna shoot hoops?”<
br />
  “Didn’t you just get shot?” I ask, baffled.

  “I heal fast.” He moves away. I watch him disappear down the hallway. It takes me a second to register he’s serious. I bolt up, smack my knee against my desk and mutter a few curses. The woman across from me glances up. I step out of the office into the hallway.

  My heart is pounding by the time I reach the gym. I take a breath to steady my nerves. I walk in, not expecting the gym to be empty, except for us.

  Dom is shooting with his right arm only. I still can’t believe he’s been shot and is here playing basketball a few days later. I step out of my heels then walk onto the court to catch a rebound. I shoot but don’t get anywhere near the basket. I really can’t focus. There’s too much I want to say and as always, nothing comes out.

  We shoot back and forth for a few minutes. I sneak looks at him.

  “One-on-one?” he asks after about ten minutes.

  “Are you okay to play?” I ask doubtfully.

  “Sure. No worries.”

  I go to the top of the key, and he tosses me the ball then trots to face me.

  I hesitate. I know if I let myself continue, I won’t tell him what I need to. If I don’t end it when I have the chance, I never will, and I’ll regret ruining his life forever.

  “I’m like a hurricane. I tend to fuck up everything around me,” I start clumsily. Already, I’ve forgotten my carefully crafted speech.

  Dom steps close enough to take the ball. I meet his dark eyes. His gaze is direct, intent.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks and drops the ball.

  “I’ll only cause you misery, Dom.” My heart beats fast, more so when he reaches out to me. I notice this time that Ari’s right. I don’t flinch for Dom.

  He unwinds my scarf. I might as well be naked. He says nothing as he takes in the bruises on my neck and face. I can’t even look at the marks in the mirror. They make me feel sick. I don’t know what to think of Dom’s silence and scrutiny.

  “Just another day at the women’s center,” I try to joke.

  “This won’t happen again.” There’s anger in his voice.

  I search his face. Yeah, this Dom is definitely different than the upbeat, detached police officer. This Dom is affected by what he sees and intense, not in a violent, unpredictable way like Robert, but more in an I-don’t-lose way like Chris. He drops his hands and rubs his mouth, the way he did when he listened to my statement a few weeks ago. His expression is one I recognize: he’s trying to figure out what to do.

  This time, I don’t have to guess about what, and I’m not about to let someone else make this call.

  “Dom, we can’t be friends or … anything,” I say hoarsely.

  His gaze is riveted to mine.

  “We can’t be in each other’s lives at all.”

  “Where’s this coming from?” he asks in a hushed tone. “Your father?”

  “No,” I reply. “I’ll ruin your life. I can’t let that happen. I respect you too much.”

  It is, by far, my worst speech ever. I don’t even try to sugar coat it and I feel like I should say more.

  I start away, quick to put my back to him because I’m afraid he’ll see my face and more afraid to witness the expression on his.

  This is harder than I thought it would be.

  “Mia, wait,” he says.

  I stop.

  A long silence settles between us.

  “I respect your decision, even if I don’t agree,” Dom says finally. “For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you. It takes a lot of courage to do what you’ve done.”

  “It took someone dying for me to do the right thing.”

  “But you did it.”

  Another silence falls.

  “Do what you need to do to heal,” he adds quietly. “If you want to talk, I’m always here for you.”

  God, he kills me with how sweet he is! I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to eject him from my life, but it’s for his own good and … maybe my own. If he really does die in the line of duty, I don’t think I can handle it and definitely not right now. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know what I’m thinking.

  I leave the gym.

  This pain is different than any I’ve gone through the past few months. Knowing I’ve disappointed Dom – again! – is somehow worse.

  He deserves better, I chant to myself.

  The remainder of my shift passes in a blur of texts to Ari and forms. It’s soon over, and I flee the shelter. Only when I’m in the back of my protective SUV do I relax enough to think about what I’ve done.

  I want to take it all back. I want to text Dom and tell him I’ll meet him for coffee or basketball or ice cream.

  Pulling out my phone, I stare at his contact. I have four voicemails and one text from Joseph. But my eyes are on Dom’s name. I delete his contact and wipe away tears. I can’t bring myself to delete our text conversations.

  My phone rings, and my heart somersaults. It’s Ari, not Dom. I swallow my tears before answering.

  “Did you do it?” she asks quietly.

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Not really,” I admit. “But I had to do it.”

  Hearing the firmness of my tone, Ari takes pity on me and changes the subject. “Benji won’t leave me alone, Mia.”

  “Seriously? Tell your dad.”

  “I want him to stop calling, not disappear off the face of the planet.”

  “I’m telling you, Ari, you don’t want him trapping you in a back alley one day. You have no idea what can happen.”

  “I know. I just don’t want to make a big issue out of this.”

  “Big issue?” I repeat. “He raped someone, Ari. He deserves no consideration at all! In fact, if your daddy blows him up, he’ll deserve it.”

  “I guess.”

  “You will tell your dad tomorrow.”

  Ari gives a noisy sigh.

  “Or I will,” I add.

  “Fine.”

  “Good.” I’m not joking. I’ll pay her dad to murder Benji. “We have to take care of each other.”

  Stressed out and exhausted, I end up hanging up before hearing the latest gossip at school.

  I can’t stop thinking about Dom and how I probably fucked that up, too. I don’t want to hurt him or his family. They’re all happy and better off without me.

  15

  The next day passes with agonizing slowness. I’m supposed to talk to Chris after school for more details about Madison. I can’t help but look over my shoulder every time I’m in the hallway. If Ari and I can sneak off campus, Madison can sneak on.

  When the final chimes of the day sound, I bolt. I don’t even say farewell to Ari.

  It’s three when I slide into the backseat of the SUV. I check my phone, and my heart almost stops.

  I don’t know why I expected to have a text from Dom.

  Moody, I start to think maybe it’s better if Madison does get me. Ari and Chris are the only people I trust now. I’ve lost a third of my friends.

  I enter Gerard’s house and walk down the hallway, noticing the door to the study is closed. I start towards it anyway, accustomed to interrupting Chris, when one of Chris’s lackeys stops me.

  “Ms. Abbott-Renou, Chris asked not to be disturbed until four.”

  I roll my eyes at him and change my direction for the kitchens. There are always snacks in the kitchen, and I can’t cook to save my life. My favorite chef, Nellie, has been bringing meals to my place daily and stacking them in the fridge.

  I grab a sandwich and a pastry out of the kitchen. I text Ari until four and go back to the study. The doors are still closed.

  I return to the room that was mine. It’s empty, which makes me feel better. I don’t know why, except that I haven’t been replaced in the house. I meant something to the occupants of the house, if my room is empty.

  Upset, I leave my past in my room and sit on the stairs of the grand staircase in the foyer. So much of my lif
e passed here. We have a few residences, but this is where I’ve spent most of my school years.

  The sound of footsteps comes from the direction of the study.

  “Chris is ready for you,” the lackey says.

  My insides feel like they’re shaking. I go down the hallway and into the study, stopping when I see who’s there. Chris, Molly, and Joseph are all seated on one side of the table. Judging by their relaxed composures, they’ve been there for a while.

  “What’s going on?” I ask warily.

  “You’ve been ignoring my texts and phone calls,” Joseph chides me. Everything he says is said with a charismatic smile that hides his true feelings.

  “I’ve had some other shit going on,” I reply irritably.

  “Have a seat,” Chris instructs me without looking up.

  I do and tuck my hands under my thighs.

  “Your police protective order starts tomorrow,” Chris says, all business. “You understood my text last night?”

  “Madison is missing, and you think he’s coming after me.”

  “We know he is,” Chris replies. “Robert Connor phoned his legal team last night and brought them a voicemail from Madison stating he’s going out to take care of – and I quote - a thorn in our sides.”

  “How kind of Robert,” I say sarcastically. “But I have bodyguards.”

  “It’s not optional,” Chris says. “It’s their standard procedure for a key witness in a high-profile case. The only control I have over it is negotiating with Tenet not to put you into some cabin in the middle of nowhere. He’ll let you stay in your apartment.”

  “I wish I’d been nicer to him now,” I murmur.

  “You’ll have a chance to make it up to him. I imagine we’ll be spending a lot of time in his office once the trial starts.”

  The others are silent. I feel like I’m on trial. Chris is waiting for me to speak.

  “Did all of you need to be here to tell me that?” I ask uneasily.

  Everyone is looking at Chris.

  “Come on, Daddy,” I say. “Are my counseling sessions now in panel-form?”

  Surprise crosses Molly’s face. Joseph looks like he’s trying not to smile.

  Chris raises an eyebrow. “Joseph.” He appears ready to strangle me again.