“You really didn’t know that Isabella was pregnant?”
“I’m not doing this, alright?” He tries to get Terry on board again. “I really need to get out of here. If Cassius wants to play dirty, I’ll show him dirty, and he isn’t going to like it.”
Terry stares straight back at him without acknowledging his threat.
“Did you not see all the signs?” I continue. “The morning sickness? The tender breasts? The pregnancy test in the bathroom?”
“Help!” George yells towards the doorway.
“Or are you panicking because the baby isn’t yours?”
He shakes his head. “Okay, you win. I would hold my hands up, only they’re bound behind my back. You’ve had your fun, Remy, now scurry back to your boyfriend.Boyfriends.” He slants his eyes in Terry’s direction. “Oh, I’m sorry, is the family not aware of your sordid little set-up?”
There was a time when we were in high school, that I felt sorry for George. He often hung around after the bell announced the end of the school day, waiting for the hallways to clear before he went to his locker and made his way outside to meet me. I put it down to shyness. To a stilted relationship with his overbearing parents. To low self-esteem because he had no interest in sports, or science club, or any other extra-curricular activity.
Now I know the truth. He was in denial. George Quinn has spent his entire life pretending to be someone else.
But I have no sympathy for him. All around the world, minority communities are threatened and victimized and treated unfairly, but they don’t all end up rotten to the core like the man sitting in front of me. They don’t all use people. They don’t inflict pain on others when they’re hurting.
Which is why I stand up and deliver the final blow with no guilt or shame.
“You’re not the only one with secrets. You didn’t know about the pregnancy because Isabella didn’t tell you. Neither did she tell you that her dad is paying your boyfriend to disappear.”
“My…” The color leaches from his face. “You’re lying.”
I swear Terry growls from the corner of the room, but I don’t look at him.
“If I am, you have nothing to worry about.” I turn and walk to the door.
“They don’t know about Will.” His voice is shrill. “Who told them? Was it these fuckers keeping me prisoner here?”
I almost pity him when I see the dull despair in his eyes. Almost. “No, George. You just did.” I don’t look back.
“Remy get back here.” I hear the chair legs scraping across the floor as he tries to follow me. “Remy! I swear to God if you?—”
The door closes behind me, shutting Terry inside with him.
I lean against the wall, shaking now that it is over.
“Oh my God, Remy.” Isabella is in front of me. “You were awesome.”
My legs give way with the adrenaline crash, and Isabella helps me sit down on the floor. “Did you get it?”
She nods and waves her cell phone in front of my face. “Every goddamned word.”
24
BASH
Cash reachesthem ahead of me.
Remy is on the floor, and my stomach lurches when I see the bruising on her face. Isabella is leaning over her, with an object raised in her hand, and my legs seem to lose the ability to function as they should.
I watch as my brother pulls Isabella away from her and snatches the object from her hand. The rest unfolds slowly. Remy drags herself onto her feet, pleading with Cash to let the other woman go. She stumbles. Cash pockets the object and catches her in his arms.
And Isabella doesn’t run.
She doesn’t run.
