“Kat?” My gaze snaps up to meet Vince’s, and I get the feeling this isn’t the first time he’s called out to me, judging by how he’s looking at me. “He can’t hurt you.”
I know he means to reassure me, but it doesn’t. If anything, it only reminds me of all Carter has done, of all the things I let him do and turned a blind eye to, or simply dealt with.
I told myself he loved me and that I loved him, and that made it all okay, but I was wrong.
Vince offers me his hand but doesn’t rush me. I take a deep breath and swallow down my fear the best I can before taking his hand.
Still, he doesn’t rush me, instead offering me a comfort I’m sure he would swear he’s not capable of, and I swear my heart skips a beat because I know he isn’t soft, not really, but right now he is.
For me.
After a moment, I offer him a nod, and he nods back before turning back to the door and pulling it open.
Carter’s voice hits me like a smack to the face, and despite the fear that tries to grip me, I let Vince pull me through the door and into a weird room with a giant glass wall.
“It’s like a holding cell,” Vince says, and I can feel his eyes boring into the side of my head, but I can’t look away from Carter.
The room is all but bare; a table sits against the back wall, and a single chair sits in the center of the room. Carter is strapped to said chair; his brown hair and usual impeccable appearance are in shambles. His shirt is dirty and wrinkled, his jeans stained, and he’s missing a shoe, but more than that, he’s covered in bruises and dried blood that tells me for sure that Nathan, Vince,and Alex have probably been down here all day while I thought they were at work.
“Kat is mine! Has been since we were teenagers. Your money won’t buy her away, you’ll see, she always comes back to me. It’s only a matter of—” Carter’s head whips to the side, cutting off what he was going to say, but I’m pretty sure I could guess.
It takes me a second to realize what happened until I finally register that it’s not just Carter behind the glass but Alex and Nathan as well.
Alex stands before him, heaving, eyes wild, and the look on his face is so much darker than I’ve ever seen before. Alex, like this, is kind of scary; I’ve only ever seen him sarcastic and silly. Even when he is serious, it’s not like this.
Right now, he looks murderous.
He lunges, gripping Carter’s hair and yanking his head back hard so that he has no choice but to meet his gaze, where he towers over him.
“Don’t say her fucking name, you piece of shit.” His fist whips out and hits him square in the jaw, and I can’t stop the gasp that flies from my lips as Carter’s head snaps to the side, again.
I hadn’t realized that was what cut Carter off earlier, but with his beat-up state, it makes sense.
Even from here, I can see the blood on Alex’s knuckles. My stomach rolls, but I can’t look away.
“You don’t have any right to her. She’s a person, not a fucking thing for you to own,” he spits, his disdain more than clear in his voice.
“And the fact that you think she can be bought just further proves you don’t know a damn thing about her.” Nathan doesn’t move from his spot against the wall, but it’s impossible to miss the venom in his words.
“Des is here,” I hear Vince, but I can’t look away as a smile curls Carter’s lips. His usually handsome features are all twistedup, and somehow I feel like this is a much better representation of the man he really is.
“Katie is mine, my little kitty cat. Bring her here, I’ll show you.” He sounds so sure of himself, and whereas a moment ago I would have argued, now I’m second-guessing myself.
Do I belong to him?
Will I ever be free of this feeling?
The air feels thicker, and I find myself having to breathe faster in an attempt to get a full breath. I swallow hard, trying to keep my dinner from coming back up as I take a step back toward the door. I watch Des and Carter stare each other down and wonder if I’ll ever truly be free of him.
Of what he’s done to me.
“Kat.” The gentle tone of Vince’s voice has me looking his way, needing something else to focus on.
I’m not sure what he sees when he looks at me, but it can’t be good. I watch as his brows pull together, his hands coming up, palms toward me in a show that he won’t hurt me, and while I know that, I can’t deny it still settles something in me.
“Do you want to leave?” he asks without the slightest bit of judgment. It’s strange how this man I’ve known for only a few months cares more for me than my own ex-fiancé. A man I wasted so many years on, trying to convince myself that love made it worth it.
I manage a slight shake of my head before I can really think it through.
