His grin flashes back, too white, too open, terrifyingly frank. A smile that wins over masses. He closes the door with him in my room, and goosebumps pebble my skin. But I turn my back to him, showing no fear while I dig through my drawers until I find the only one-piece swimsuit in there. There’s a cover-up looking thing in the closet that might be a dress or sweater, but without guidance, I take it to the bathroom, locking the door behind me.
Once I’m as covered as I’m going to be, I slip on some sandals, and after a few hidden taps on my leg, I open and follow Trips’ brother from my room.
His hand on the small of my back could be seen as a courtesy, but it’s nothing but a warning. He can’t try anything, though. His father was clear that I’m not for him. He leads me deeper into the house, and soon, I can tell we aren’t heading to the backyard pool within sight of his father’s office.
“Isn’t the pool that way?” I ask, trying to sidestep out of his reach.
He follows, keeping his fingers against my spine. “You haven’t used the indoor pool yet, have you?”
“It’s so beautiful today. I’d love to try the outside one.”
His grin bites. “The indoor one is much nicer.”
I debate running, but I don’t know where I am anymore. And while I’m sure I could find my way outside or back to my room,I’m not sure I could get there faster than the man beside me who’s lived here his whole life.
He guides me to a glass door, through which I see a gorgeous pool, tiled deep blue and white. Large potted plants, chaise loungers, and even a couch are scattered around the edges, but the space gives off an abandoned vibe. Because who would choose the indoor pool when it’s gorgeous outside?
“Come along, now, sister. We should get to know each other, given we’re going to be spending the rest of our lives in close proximity.”
“Maybe, maybe not. You could win a national election. Then you and Olivia will be in Washington, D.C., not here, with your brother and me.”
He laughs, pushing me through the door with enough force for me to know this fight won’t be easily won.
He’s not nearly as big as Trips, but he’s still a tall man in his late twenties. And from what Trips told me, his brother has taken at least half as many hits as he has, so pain isn’t as shocking as it would be to someone else. Readying myself for whatever comes next, I inspect him, looking for any weaknesses, and once his shirt is off, for any lingering bruises left by his father.
He takes my inspection as interest, because of course he does. “Do you like what you see?” he asks, spinning in a circle. “I am the better-looking brother. Friendlier, too.”
“You’re not competing in a bachelor auction. You’re a married man, and I’m engaged to your brother.”
“Not happily.” I’m not sure if he’s talking about his situation or mine, but he clarifies, saving me from figuring it out. “You don’t want to be here. And Olivia and I are a political match, nothing more. So really, why not have some fun while you’re stuck here? And I can promise that I’m your kind of fun.”
“What gives you the impression you know anything about me, let alone what I find fun?”
“Years of study, baby.”
The visceral horror that rockets through me at the once-familiar endearment has bile coating the back of my tongue. “I’m no one’s baby,” I spit out.
“Ah, but you were, weren’t you?”
Pigtails.Bryce. Fuck.“So, you were one of the creeps who watched those videos,” I manage. Trevor is even worse with this revelation. But it makes sense. Olivia is eighteen. “Why are you here instead of with your barely-legal wife, then, if that’s your thing?”
He smiles, happy I’m asking him questions. Like I’d ever take him up on his offer of ‘fun.’
“Oh, she still needs handholding. Or training, depending on your perspective. And until I can knock her up, I can’t have much fun at all, or my divorce will end up on the five o’clock news. Her father is quite protective. So sadly, I must wait until she’s done with college to really enjoy myself.” He steps forward, tugging on the tie of my cover up, the sides of the heavy fabric falling open to reveal my navy suit.
“Waiting until she's twenty-two will a chore, but it turns out that Icanget it up for a woman at least into her early twenties. For example, how old are you now? Twenty-one? Twenty-two?” I swallow as he steps closer, the space between us almost non-existent. “I’ll be honest, I’d assumed you were younger. Your man did a good job with you, dressing you so sweet, keeping you so broken. I loved the way you cried. The way you begged. Such a good girl.”
Barely suppressing my shiver, I don’t reply, once again debating making a run for it. As RJ drilled into me, running should always be the first choice. It’s always the safest. But Trevorrecognizedme the first time he saw me. He’s seen menaked, and not just when I was beaten to the point of spitting blood. I’d bitten through my tongue trying not to cry out, not that he’s the kind of guy who’d even consider helping me.
He’s seen me broken and begging, my every weakness recorded and shared with strangers. He saw me at my lowest, back when I thought I had to make myself small to be loved. That the only way to have someone care was to be whatever they wanted me to be.
I’m not that girl anymore.
The invitations for the wedding are in the mail. The dress is ordered; the caterers selected. It’s a risk.
But bending for this man is one line I won’t cross to get my happy ending.
He stalks around me, his finger tracing across my skin, taking my silence as compliance. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell Archie. The oaf actually likes you. But a girl like you needs someone with finesse, someone to break you down until you can beg for what you really want. Not a man who will simply break you. Which is what my brother will do. He’s a loose cannon. One mistake, one fit of anger and whoops, there goes that Clara McElroy, so sad, such a promising young woman.” He finishes his circle of me, eyes tracing my body like it’s his. “I can protect you from him. I have my father’s ear in a way he never will. You can be my mistress, and my father can find another girl for him.”
