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Break Me Slowly(39)

By:Joya Ryan


“Good.”

The line went dead and so did my breathing. Whatever was going on was not good. Tim’s words replayed in my head. Adam Kinkade dates models…what does he see in you…

My hands began to shake. I couldn’t help feeling that I was on the verge of being dumped.

~

“Have a seat.” Adam motioned to the chair across the desk.

“I’ll stand.” I was not about to play Master and Commander if he was just going to break up with me anyway. It took every effort I had to remain calm, and I was still failing miserably.

“It’s rude to discuss business when one party stands.”

“Business?”

He glared at me. He obviously wasn’t going to say anything until I sat, so I did. He leaned forward, all powerful and domineering, staring me down as though I had just insulted his grandmother.

“I’m going to tear down the apartment complexes.”

“What?” My voice raised an octave. “We talked about this a while ago. I told you my mother lives there.”

“Yes. Which is why I am more driven than ever to expunge that shitty part of town.”

My brain was rattling with his words. “But you said she wouldn’t be homeless.”

“There is a women’s shelter right down the street,” he snarled. What had happened? Where was my sweet, wonderful Adam?

“How can you say that? Do that?”

He tossed a manila folder across the desk and it landed in front of me. I opened it and when I saw what was in it, I almost vomited.

My medical records.

Page after page documenting every time I’d gone to the hospital for injuries. Then there were the photos…

“Where did you get this? These are my personal, private medical records.”

“Do you know how much money I have?” he asked with all the smugness in the world. “It really can buy anything.”

I shoved the folder back at him. “You had no right to do that. How would you like it if someone went digging around in your medical records?”

“Impossible,” he stated.

“You can’t do this.”

“Yes, I can.”

“No, you can’t! This is my private life.”

“I gave you plenty of time to talk to me. Confide in me about what had happened to you and who hurt you. But you refused. So I found out on my own.”

“Adam, did it ever occur to you that I didn’t want to talk about this because it’s not fun for me?”

“I need to know these things, Katelyn.”

“Why do you need to know?”

“So I can protect you.”

“I can take care of myself.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I would have told you. Despite how awful and painful it is, I would have shared every secret and recounted every detail if that’s what you wanted.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Because you never give me anything back. I took the leap, Adam. I stood in front of you with all my faults and scars bared. But you haven’t shared one thing about your past with me.”

“That’s different, Katelyn.”

My temper flared. “Bullshit. You don’t just get to play God and decide things based on how it best suits you.”

“I do when my property is involved.”

I looked down at my stomach because it felt like Adam had just run a knife through my gut. I wanted to scream. To cry. Why he was doing this?

“Are you trying to hurt me? Rub it in that you’re kicking my mom out of her home? Going back on your word to me? That’s so sick.”

“No!” He slammed his hand on his desk and I jumped. “This is sick!”

He held up a photo. A close-up of my face when I was eleven, bloodied and broken. That had been one of the worst. I still felt my mother’s nails sink into my skin like claws as she screamed at me. Hating me. Trying to cut the skin from my cheekbones and tear apart my face with her bare hands.

“I don’t know how you can care about someone who did this to you, but I sure as hell won’t.” His eyes were the darkest I had ever seen them. His breathing was coming quicker. Adam Kinkade was irate.

I took a deep breath and tried to take a mental step back. I wasn’t used to being the calm one in a situation, but now it looked like I had no choice.

He was all worked up and for what? Me? In his own way, he was protecting me. Attempting to save me from something that had been done. A raw anger seeped from him. I recognized it because I had felt it for most of my childhood. But I was an adult now, and with that came responsibility.

“She’s my mother, Adam.”

His face went stark.

He came around the desk and stood before me. I rose to meet him. When I did, he cupped my face in his palms and kissed me. Hard. Angry. I knew his intentions were good, but sometimes he set about things in a backward way. I was learning to combat this with the only thing I could.