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We have been at this for the last fifteen minutes. “If no one will be on campus, then I have nothing to worry about. We can increase security measures,” I try to reason.
“After Conner, your detail is made up of ten cleared men. There isn’t enough time to vet anyone, and ten men are not enough,” Thomas points out.
A throat clears, pulling my attention to my uncle. “Where’s the niece who knew she needed a protective detail and that she isn’t Natasha Romanoff?”
Oh, they’re laying it on thick.
“She’s tired of hiding and is ready to collect the blood of my enemies and make Samantha Davenport drown in it,” I retort, and they snicker.
My dad offers other reasons, but I’m making my last stand.
“But, Dad—” I begin to say, imploring his understanding before he cuts me off.
“Absolutely not, Ry. It’s too dangerous. The Senator is in the wind, and none of his known associates have heard from anyone,” Dad states.
I make one last pleading look toward my family, only to be met with silence. My grandparents, my uncle, Shay, and Thomas shake their heads.
Shay uncrosses her legs and stands.“Ry! Girl, I know you want to throw a middle finger up to everyone who’s hurt you, and rightfully so.”
“You’re damn right I do. And I will. I have plans for everyone that has screwed my family and me over, but that’s not my point. I’m tired of having to bend to their will. Hiding behind the walls of the Bradford estate feels like we’re still playing their game, and I’m fucking done with that shit. It’s time to initiate the first part of my plan.”
Shay crosses the room and holds my hand before she continues. “Slow down there, G.I. Jane,” she jests.
I snort, quickly covering it up with a cough as I school my features while she continues. Lifting her hand, she ticks off each reason. “You’ve been kidnapped, almost sex trafficked, sent the body parts of other students, and we won’t bother to count the number of times someone has tried to either blow you up or stab you. Until you’re back on your feet, you need to take your ass home.”
“Fine,” I groan, giving my bestie the ‘Et tu Brute’ side-eye. Freaking traitor.
Rolling her eyes, Shay smiles.“Cut yuh bullshit, my girl, yuh dun know I’m right.”
I didn’t want to go home, but I understood why I had to in the end. My stubbornness is rooted in my need for some control in my life. I feel like I’m being controlled at every turn, but they’re all right. I can’t let my thirst for autonomy cause me to make stupid decisions.
Reign already left to get the car ready, and Elias and Fernando are standing guard outside my room while Thomas is with Dad, preparing the house for my return. Now, I just have to wait.
Another five minutes pass before there’s a knock on the door. “Come in,” I shout, and a person in blue scrubs and a mask enters.
“Miss Bradford?” the person asks, and I nod. “I’m Daniel. I’m here to review your discharge information and assist you with getting dressed.”
“Okay,” I reply, eager to leave.
Daniel gently closes the door. “Can you please just verify your full name?”
We go through all the verifications as he approaches. It’s not until he’s closer that I see a familiar tattoo peeking out from his scrubs. My eyes widen. “What the fuck are you doing here,” I seethe.
Pulling his mask down, Owen raises his index finger to his mouth. “Shhh. I don’t want them barging in here.”
“I should scream so you can be removed. The nerve of you being here after everything,” I hiss, feeling the tears threatening to fall.
“Please, Angel,” he begs. “Let me explain.”
My nostrils flare, and my lip curls in disgust. “Take your explanations and shove them up your ass.”
“Only if you’re holding the dildo,” Owen smirks, momentarily shocking me into silence. He takes advantage of my stupor. “Things have not been as they seem. I can’t tell you everything now because our time is limited, and we don’t want to risk your health.”
Regaining my ability to speak, I retort, “So, I imagined Samantha fucking you as she carved through the ‘A’ on your chest?” I shouldn’t care, not after everything they’ve done and all the pain they caused.
Owen reaches behind his back, pulls out a brown leather-bound journal, and offers it to me. “This will explain better than any words we can offer.”
I stare at his proffered hand before leveling him with a glare. “Nothing any of you say will fix this.”
