“I-I thought he was going to… to hurt me.”
My blood starts to boil and my heart is beating so loudly in my ears that it’s drowning out everything else. “Fucking bastard,” I mutter. “Did he hurt you? Did he… touch you?”
I’ll fucking kill him if he did. I swear to God I will.
She shakes her head. “He tried, but I-I kicked him. Hard.” A long, jagged sob escapes from somewhere deep inside her, and all I can do is hold her tight for several long seconds until it passes. “He called me names. He said… he said horrible things to me, Keir.”
“I’ll take care of it,” I promise her. “You’re okay now. I’m here with you and I’m not going to leave. Look at me,” I pause and wait while she looks up at me, then I push a strand of hair back from her face. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do I need to call the doctor? Do you want to have someone look you over?”
“No, no, I don’t want that. He didn’t touch me. He really didn’t. I just…” She chokes back another sob and slowly sucks in a ragged breath. “I was scared. I didn’t know what he was going to do and he kept saying all these filthy, horrible things.”
Jesus.
I’m so angry I’m shaking. I want to run out of here and hunt that son of a bitch down so I can beat the shit out of him until I start to feel better. He’s crossed so many lines lately that it’s hard to find the outrage for some of the things he’s said and done, but this?
This is different. He didn’t just cross the line this time. He obliterated it.
No matter what else happens, I know I’ll never be able to trust him again. And I clearly need to beef up security around here to make sure he never makes it within a hundred yards of my apartment.
I sit with her for a little while, just calmly rocking her back and forth until she stops crying and can take a breath without shuddering. “I’m here for whatever you need,” I remind her once she’s able to sit upright on her own.
She stands up on shaky legs and takes a step toward the bathroom. I reach out to steady her, and she gives me a look that’s grateful and sad and exhausted all at the same time. “I think I’m going to be sick, Keir.”
I’m right by her side in an instant. “Do you need me to go in there with you?”
“No, I’ll be okay. I just need a minute.”
I nod. “I’ll be right out here. Just yell if you need anything at all.”
As soon as she steps inside the bathroom and closes the door behind her, I fish my phone from my pocket and dial my brother’s number.
“You son of a bitch,” I snarl when he picks up on the first ring. “What the fuck were you thinking? Coming in here and threatening her? Calling her names? I’d have you arrested right now except I’d rather come find you myself later.”
“Bore someone else with your threats,” he sneers. I can practically hear the smirk in his voice and it’s making me see red. “I don’t know what you’re so pissed off about anyway,” he says. “All I did was call her what she is—a whore. A whore who has embarrassed my family and has really inconvenienced my campaign. That goddamn sex tape is all we’re being asked about. Do you know what it’s like to go out there and defend the two of you every single day? Do you?”
“No, and I don’t give a shit how inconvenient it is for you. You can go fuck yourself, James. If I do ever hit the campaign trail before the election, it’ll be to raise money for your opponent. I’m finished with you. Finished! You will never have my endorsement for Prime Minister, and I wouldn’t hold my breath for favorable coverage from NewsCorp if I were you.”
For once he doesn’t seem to have a snappy comeback. “You wouldn’t…”
“Yes, I would. You’ve pushed me too far, James. Coming to my house today was the biggest mistake you’ve ever made.”
“We’ll see, brother. We’ll see about that. I’m just getting started with you. You think this sex tape has caused some controversy? You haven’t seen anything yet.”
The line goes dead before I can say anything else. All I can do is stand here staring at my blank phone screen for several long seconds as I try to get a handle on all the rage that’s bubbling up inside me.
No.
I can’t get it under control this time. Not after what he’s done. I’m going to hold onto this anger until I see him again. Then I’m going to unleash it on him.
Then we might be even.
CHAPTER FORTY
ELLA
It turns out school plays are different for rich kids at private schools. I was expecting a cute, amateur, children’s play. What we’ve shown up to see is apparently something that would be right at home on London’s West End, with fancy costumes, elaborate set pieces, and an actual orchestra playing along with them from the pit.
“What in the world?” I find myself asking for at least the fourth or fifth time as the final curtain goes down. “I still can’t believe this was a school play—was it a school play? Is Isla secretly some kind of famous actress, and I just didn’t know about it until now?”
He laughs as we rise to our feet to give the cast a well-earned standing ovation. “The performing arts department is top notch here. It should be, considering the astronomical amount they charge for tuition.”
I’m still in a state of shock as the crowd starts to filter out of the auditorium. “I’ve never seen anything like that. I’m so proud of Isla. She did an amazing job.”
“She really did,” he beams, ushering me toward the door. “It might be a little while before we get a chance to see her, though.”
“Oh? Why? Should I go back there and see if she needs help changing out of her costume?”
“No, didn’t I tell you? There’s a reception immediately after this for the kids—dinner, awards, the whole nine yards.”
“What? Really?” I’m shocked all over again for the second time in as many minutes. “I mean, that’s great. I’m just… a reception? Like a big, fancy thing?”
He nods. “Yeah, a big, fancy thing. It’s pretty tedious for the adults but Isla will love it.”
A tedious, fancy dress banquet for children? This is the very definition of rich people's problems. I can’t even remember getting this kind of treatment when I was with the New York City Ballet.
I almost have to laugh at myself as we walk across the prep school campus. Am I jealous?
Maybe a little. It’s not hard to see why these kids are able to excel in life when they get treated like rockstars and royalty from the very beginning. But honestly? I’m not mad about it. Isla put in a lot of hard work and she deserves whatever awards or recognition she might get.
I just wish this was the sort of thing public school kids could experience, too. It would literally change the world after a generation or two.
“Oh, shit,” Keir stops in his tracks and I have to grab his arm to keep from falling over in my heels as I try to avoid crashing into him.
“What happened? What’s going on?”