“No. He’s not,” Prince agreed. We drove a little longer, and I sensed he was deep in thought. That wasn’t surprising – I was too.
“I’m sorry about the things he said to you,” he said at last. The lights around us were growing brighter, and I knew we were minutes from home. “You didn’t deserve that. I should have stopped him sooner.”
I shook my head. “It didn’t bother me,” I said. “He barely knows me. He was just trying to bait you. I could see that much. But what he said about you…that was unforgivable. You’re his son. His flesh and blood. How could he treat you that way?” I may have had a fucked-up childhood, but there’d never been a time when my own family turned on me that way. At the end of the day, we were all that we had.
“I’m used to it,” he muttered. I didn’t believe him. Things like that never stopped hurting your heart. “He shouldn’t have put his hands on you.” Something in his voice hinted at danger. “If I’d known—”
“How could you have known? I wasn’t going to broadcast it.” Drew Walker was a jerk.
“I should have guessed,” he said. “It’s not as if it’s the first time.”
I frowned. “He’s done it before?”
“For as long as I can remember.”
“Hits on your girlfriends?” I was astonished.
“Yup. Sometimes it works too.” His tone was neutral, but that didn’t make it better.
“I can’t believe that!” My head was reeling. What kind of woman hooks up with her boyfriend’s father? Worse yet, what kind of man pursues his son’s girlfriends? It was just too twisted.
“I guess it’s my own fault,” he brushed it off. “Spent too much time dating the kind of woman who puts a price tag on a man. My father’s a big-ticket item.”
His words made me shrink into my seat. There was a million-dollar price tag hanging off our relationship right now. And as much as I wished I could just brush it aside and tell him I didn’t want the money, I didn’t have that luxury. Emilio’s life depended on it.
The silence felt heavy for a while until he spoke again.
“What did you mean by that…knowing men like him?” he changed the subject. I almost felt relieved until I realized where this was heading.
I stayed silent.
“Sasha?” He looked at me. “What did you mean by men who prey on little girls?”
My breath froze in my lungs.Where do I start?Dive in head-first. It’s the only way. “My foster father raped me when I was 12,” I said, the words coming out in a rush.
Prince jerked his head round at me, the car veering a fraction before he corrected it. “Jesus!” he bit out. “God, Sasha… I’m so sorry.”
“It was a long time ago,” I tried to brush it off.
“It’s never long enough for that.” His fingers were over mine, holding on tight. “What happ—” He stopped. “Can you talk about this?” he asked cautiously. I had no idea. I’d never tried before.
“Sure,” I answered, hoping I’d be able to see it through.
“What happened?” he picked up his previous question, my fingers still firmly clasped in his hand. “Did the authorities step in? You never said where your folks were.”
“Never met my dad,” I shrugged, “and my mother was working out of town. My brother and I had been on the street a while when Candice and Joe…that was his name…” I tasted bile as I said it, “when they took us in.”
“Fucker!” Prince said under his breath, his veins from his temple popped “Did the bastard get caught?”
“Eventually. About three years after it started. Candice came home unexpectedly one day and caught us. Until then, he would wait for her to go out, or he’d come up to my room when I was sleeping,” I said, speaking almost mechanically. The words seemed to be coming from someone else’s mouth now. I didn’t feel them.
“Jesus Christ, Sasha!” he sounded so enraged I flinched, and he pulled me closer. When I resisted, he released me suddenly. “Oh my God…” His jaw clenched, and a muscle flickered in his cheek. “Oh…my God. That first night you moved in with me…”
I knew what he was thinking. How he’d come into my room in the night. “It’s okay, Alec,” I said softly. He shook his head abruptly. We’d turned into the parking bay beneath the apartment block, and he eased the Bentley into the assigned bay. He switched off the engine, then sat a moment, lost in thought.
“It’s not okay, Sasha,” he said, almost to himself, then turned to me. His eyes were dark. “Stuff like that is never okay.”
I said nothing. What was there to say?
