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“They didn’t need to. She was a girl.” I whispered to myself as I tried to shove the memories back into the box inside my head. Vander had broken the lock that kept them from spilling out. It was overflowing with the pain I’d suffered. No loss compared to losing her. Realizing I wasn’t able to do my one job. Protect my child.
“A girl?” Vander’s choked voice cut into my skin. Made me feel it all over again.
“I begged them to tell me at the hospital.”
I’d spent hours getting tests done. Asking over and over if my baby was okay. But no one would tell me. No one wanted to piss off the criminals around me.
And when they’d finally admitted the truth, I wished I’d died with her.
I jerked as Vander suddenly moved. He stalked past me as I shrunk against the counter. He spoke as he walked through the entryway. “I won’t touch you.”
“What?” I blinked as he stabbed the button to the elevator. I was the one confused now. I thought the whole reason he married me was to keep his secrets and give him an heir. “What about having a baby?”
“Do…” His throat bobbed as he ran a hand through his hair, looking back at me with so much sorrow in his eyes it seemed like he was the one who’d lost a child. “Do whatever you want. Eat what you want. Dress how you want. Tell anyone. Spend all my money. Go to a clinic. You’re free to make your own choices as long as it doesn’t affect your safety.”
Then he was gone. The elevator closed behind him. Staring at the steel doors, I was left wondering about a husband I didn’t know and a marriage I didn’t want.
14
Vander
Each beep of the elevator grated on my nerves. Blood ran down my palms from the crescent-shaped marks left by my nails. I’d held my hands so tightly while Grace had spoken, fighting the urge to wrap her in my arms. Trying not to scare her again while she ripped out my heart.
Guilt and anger burned a path up my throat. My knuckles turned white from my clenched fists. My reflection stared at me in the cold steel. Judging. Blaming. Loathing.
I wanted to destroy it. Hurt it like she’d been hurt. Rip it to shreds until there was nothing left. Until this unbearable guilt went away.
Cole had hinted at this. When he’d married Alessandra, Mitchell had been rude, aggressively against the marriage and Cole’s love for her. I thought he was protecting the family. Protecting our cousin’s heart.
But, no. He was protecting his secrets. Keeping Grace isolated.
I should’ve seen it. The signs. Her tendency to flinch. The stilted smiles. The bitch black that lived in him.
I’d ignored it. Ignored Cole’s warning because I was jealous. Because I’d been pathetically trying to protect myself while she’d been beaten. I let my jealousy and guilt keep me away.
I failed her.
The steel reverberated as I punched my disgusting image. Blood covered the silver, but the doors opened before I could hit it again. My knuckles burned as I stood in Cole’s entryway. My chest heaved with each tortured breath. I wished they’d stop. Put me out of my misery.
“Vander?” Alessandra’s brows furrowed. Concern shined in her eyes as she stood from her seat at the kitchen island. Their living space was a mirror image of Grace’s.
Her bare feet slapped the tile floor as she rushed to me, calling my cousin’s name. Cole appeared around the corner as Alessandra grasped my bleeding hand, leading me to the couch. They were both dressed in pajamas still. “I’ll get the first aid kit.”
I didn’t feel the cushions as I sat down. I didn’t notice Cole’s arm around my shoulder as I grasped my head. My elbows slammed into my thighs as I yanked at the strands of my hair. But the pain couldn’t match the agony in my chest. The festering guilt that I knew would never go away.
It bubbled up. Choked me until I couldn’t breathe. Until all I tasted was the sick metallic tang of failure.
“Vander?” Cole’s voice snapped in my ears. Harsh, like he’d said it a few times. “What’s going on? You’re scaring us.”
I swallowed the lump down as I spoke to the floor. “Is Alessandra still studying to be a counselor?”
I felt his confusion. His eyes burning a hole in my head, but I couldn’t look up. Couldn’t face the blame I knew I’d see there.
“She graduates this summer. What’s this about?”
“Let me see your hand.” Alessandra’s gentle touch had me moving. She sat on an ottoman in front of me.
I relished the sting in the cuts as she swept antiseptic over it. I deserved the pain. “C-could you talk to Grace?”
