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“Shell,” Copper said, rising from the loveseat. He came around the small coffee table and gripped her upper arms. “What did he say to you?”
She struggled against his hold. He had to stop touching her if there was any chance of holding it together. “I was too young to handle that kind of choice,” she said, then laughed. “Though I’d choose the same today, sick as that is. I never really saw it as a choice at all.” Shit, now she was rambling, still unable to give life to the words.
“Michelle.” Copper never used her full name. No one did. It sounded nice coming from him. Would have been much better if it happened in the quiet of night because he loved her instead of during the most painfully revealing conversation of her life. “Tell me what he said to you.”
Fat tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. Memories of the pain and fear were so intense she wanted to wail and scream as though she was living it all over again. “He told me he’d turn the video over to the police if I didn’t sleep with him whenever he came around. He lorded the threat over me for two years. Until he went to prison.”
Copper released a strangled choking sound, and his hands dropped to his sides. The three feet he put between them felt like miles.
“Two years?” he whispered.
With a nod, Shell whispered, “A few times a month, when he got bored with the club girls, he’d show up at my door. He did two things every single time. Showed me the video and smirked like it was all some big joke."
God, how she hated that fucking smirk. To this day it appeared in her nightmares, a reminder of a time she’d worked so hard to put behind her. Just once, she’d love the chance to punch Rusty right in the mouth while that smirk was present. Though she had a feeling once her story was told, Rusty would take a punch from her any day over what fate would be awaiting him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
COPPER CAUGHT EVERY word falling from her lips, but it was as though he was watching a movie. Present, observing, but slightly detached from the reality of it. Until she said Rusty threatened to have him sent to prison for murder if she didn’t fuck him. Then the harsh truth of what Shell had actually gone through slammed into his gut.
And it hurt.
Physically hurt.
His stomach cramped, chest ached, and a throb built behind his eyes. “So you did it,” he croaked.
One slow nod. “I did it,” she whispered. “I had to, Copper. The thought of you rotting away in jail for executing the man who murdered my father was unfathomable. As awful as the consequence of my decision was, the alternative was so much worse.”
Christ. Sixteen. Sixfuckingteen years old and she’d given up her body to protect him. She’d taken on burdens even an adult would struggle with and bore them for years. Planned to bear them for the rest of her life.
Alone. Scared. Ashamed.
He had so many questions. So much more he needed to know. Needed to know. He’d never survive without knowing exactly what his brother put her through.
“Did he hurt you, physically? Was he rough with you?” His eye twitched and horrible mental images of Shell being violated danced before his eyes. That was why he needed to know. His own imagination would run rampant if he didn’t get the specifics.
A heavy sigh left Shell. “Do you really want the details, Copper? They don’t change the outcome. You don’t need the facts torturing you for the rest of your life.”
He walked to her again. Somehow, some way, he would convince her none of the past mattered when it came to his love for her. Actually, that was a lie. It mattered a great deal. The tremendous sacrifice she made to protect him demonstrated the strength of her feelings for him more than any words could ever convey. Even if it took the rest of his life, he’d show Shell she was worthy of every ounce of his love. She was precious. She was remarkable.
She was his queen.
“I need to hear it, Shell. Every single detail.”
“Why?” She blinked up at him.
“Because when I’m killing Rusty in the most painful way I can drum up, I want to know exactly what I’m killing him for.” If she were anyone else, he’d never utter those words, but Shell would live with the security of the knowledge that the man who hurt her no longer breathed. He’d never come for their daughter, never touch her again.
With a gasp, Shell shook her head. “No, Copper. You can’t kill him. He’s your brother. Your blood.”
“And he took you against your will. For years,” he replied as the grip on her shoulders tightened. “I’d have killed him for one time alone. But to know he did it for years? Fuck, Shell.”
