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“What did you say? Did you apologize?” He sounds so eager, it’s pathetic.
I let out a slow breath. “No, Dad. He hit me in the face.” I point out the bruise, almost entirely concealed by makeup. He squints and if he can see it, he doesn’t show it. “He would’ve kept hitting me if someone didn’t step in to stop him.”
“Maybe they should have let William keep going then. Maybe it would’ve knocked some sense into you.”
“Dad. I’m not going back to that family. He cheated on me. How can you be okay with this?”
“It was an arranged marriage, Marie. Grow the fuck up. William owed you nothing and instead of understanding that men make mistakes sometimes, and helping him to be better, you went ahead and publicly humiliated him and brought shame on his entire family. This is unacceptable.”
“Help him be better? That’s not my job, Dad. I’m not going to spend my life responsible for a rich, worthless man-child. I have more respect for myself than that.”
He leans closer, showing his teeth. “I don’t.”
The Cadillac slows to a stop at a light and I sense my chance. Dad’s staring at me with seething hate and I jab my thumb into the seatbelt release, snapping it off, and yank the door handle.
“What are you doing?” Dad asks, reaching for me, but I slip away from his grasping fingers and out the door. “Marie, get the fuck back in this—”
I slam the door in his face, turn around, and start running.
Horns honk as I cross a lane of traffic and throw myself onto the sidewalk. I’m in heels, which doesn’t make this easy, and people are staring like I’m some kind of psycho, but nobody does anything to help me, typical freaking Philadelphia. I hear Dad’s door open and he shouts something about me being a worthless piece of trash and something else, but the ugly details are lost to the sounds of honking horns as the light changes, and I keep running.
I have no direction. I have no goals. I just run. Arms pumping, legs working, tears streaming down my face. Pain and shame and self-hate flow through my body. I must look insane but I don’t care. I’m too far gone to care.
My father’s going to kill me. This whole thing is going to ruin him, and I’ll be the one he blames. Not William for cheating on me and treating me like trash, but me.
This is a nightmare. It’s so much worse than I realized. All because I made one stupid, emotional decision, and I’m not even sure it was a mistake.
I’m suffering for it, but should I have let William get away with everything just because the truth might upset some people? That rich asshole thinks he can do whatever he wants with no regard for the people around him, and I decided to show that asshole that actions have consequences. Maybe I’m the first person ever to hold him to account.
But now as I run through the crowded city streets, heading south and toward quieter residential areas, I’m starting to wonder if I made the biggest mistake of my life. My feet ache, my legs burn, my breath’s coming in fast and hard, and all I want to do is curl up in Ansell’s bed and cry my fucking face off and hide from reality. I wish I never turned my phone back on. I wish I never went into the office today.
I finally give up and stumble down a side street. I’m done. I’m too tired to keep going and too mentally exhausted to try to reason this through. It’s over, finished, and I might as well give up right here. If Dad wants to catch me, let him.
I sit on a stoop on a quiet, shady street, and pull my knees up to my chest as I cry into my thighs. I don’t care who sees me because my life is over anyway.
“Excuse me, miss? Are you okay?”
It’s a man’s voice. I sniff, feeling awkward, and look up, blinking through my tears.
He’s standing a few feet in front of me. He smiles, head tilted. I’m about to tell him that I’m fine, but the words die on my lips when I get a good look at his face.
Heiko Child grins back at me.
Chapter 10
Ansell
“You can’t get involved with this girl.”
I keep staring out the window, ignoring Baptist as he taps away at his phone. He’s always on that damn thing doing a million different tasks at once and I have no clue how he manages to get anything finished. It’s like he thrives on a constant flow of information.
He practically glows with excitement. Baptist feels things I’ve never imagined before, and sometimes I wonder if it’s like that for everyone, or if my best friend is particularly emotional. I’m not sure either way.
