I stare at him. The shock of what he’s saying is subtle—seeping slowly into my skin and flesh, into my bones. Into my mind. Audrey said it many times, but somehow it isn’t until now it sinks in.
My dad doesn’t care about me. His work, his money, his success is more important. So important he’d push me back into Sean Anholt’s clutches, even though I told him, told both my parents how he treated me. How he forced himself on me. How he hurt me.
They don’t give a damn. They didn’t drag me here because they want to close a deal with the Jensons, but with the Anholts. I am to suck it up and go quietly, be a sacrifice for their business.
I wonder why my mother isn’t here. She couldn’t stomach it? Didn’t want to watch?
“You can’t see how good I am for you,” Sean is saying, and he crouches at my side. “I’m the best catch in Chicago, and I came to this backwater just for you.” His hand hovers over my face, and I brace for another slap. His mouth twists. “Open your eyes, Tessa. I’m the best you’ll ever hope to get, and fate has pushed us together.”
My dad, I think. Not fate. Just my dad who doesn’t care about me.
As Sean leans over me, anger fills me. I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything like it, this wave of hot and cold rushing through me at the same time, this sensation of being crushed and strong all at once. So disappointed and yet glad to finally know.
My heart is still pounding like a hammer against my ribs, tears leak from the corner of my eyes, and I can’t catch my breath. And yet a strange calm settles over me. I’m leaving. This is it. Whatever happens, I’m not letting Sean, or my parents, or anyone for that matter get a hold on me.
Not. Ever. Again.
So I let him get close. Real close. I lift my hands over my head on the cold grass and wait. He smirks, and I want to knock the self-satisfied expression off his face, but let my eyes half-close instead, hiding my thoughts. My feelings.
“Can’t wait for me to fuck you, huh?” He braces on one hand and looks down at me, the excited gleam in his eyes at odds with the awful words spilling from his mouth. “You spread your legs for everyone, don’t you? Fucking slut.”
I keep my voice locked inside. I keep still, keep quiet. Let him insult me, and brag, and preen. He really does believe I sleep with everyone. He doesn’t know there hasn’t been anyone for me since Dylan. The only one who touched me in all this time was Sean, and what he did to me…
Through the tears that keep leaking from my eyes, I know the moment he leans down to take my mouth again.
I twist and hit his shin with the hard toe of my shoe, then reach down, grab his balls and twist.
He cries out in agony. I put my hands on his shoulders and shove him off, turning and throwing him off balance—a move I learned at self-defense. He hits the ground hard and I scramble to my feet, kick off my shoes and get the hell out of Dodge—running, slipping in the grass, staggering.
“Help!” I shout, but my voice is faint and scratchy. “Help.”
I make it through the door into the building and run down an empty hall, my bare feet slapping the floor. Where is everyone? I push another set of doors open and skid down a corridor. This isn’t the way we came, but who cares now.
I think I hear steps pounding behind me, and I run like never before in my life. Sean is pissed off. If he catches me, it will be bad. Real bad.
Sweat trickles down my back as I skid around a corner and see another set of double doors. Hurrying over to them, I try the handle, but can’t turn it.
Locked.
Oh God. “Help me!” I yell, terror an icy fist around my heart. I bang on the closed door. My hands shake. “Anyone!”
The handle suddenly turns, the door opens, and I spill out, crashing on someone. Someone tall and broad who grabs me in his arms. I clutch at him, burying my face in a muscled chest, inhaling his scent of leather and pine that’s somehow familiar.
“Help me,” I mumble. “Please, help me.”
Why is his scent so familiar?
“Is everything…?” He falls silent, and then says, his voice rising in shock, “Tessa?”
I look up and barely have the time to register it’s Dylan holding me, Dylan talking to me—what the hell is Dylan doing here?—when the doors swing open once again.
“Tessa, come back here,” Sean shouts, his voice jolting me like electric current. “Bitch.”
“Who are you?” Dylan’s voice is calm. My whole body shudders. His arms tighten around me, holding me close. Safe. “Is everything all right?”
How can he even ask that? I can’t move, he’s holding me so tightly—and I don’t want to, either. I don’t want to turn and see Sean ever again.