Shane stops pacing and strides over to me. Without a word, he raises his arm and brings the back of his hand down hard across my face, his knuckles digging into my cheek, my head whipping to one side. I can’t breathe and panic as I struggle to take in air. Shane’s never hit me before. Something’s changed. He’s changed.
He bends down in front of me, a hand on each of my thighs, leaning with his full body weight and squeezing hard. I can’t help the tremor in my body, from fear and anger and cold.
“I’m not even mad that you fucked another man. Not really.”
“You cheated on me all the time. You don’t evenlikeme.” I turn my head and try not to sob. “Just let me go.”
He squeezes harder and harder until fresh tears stream down my cheeks. Rage flames on his face, but also excitement. He’s been waiting for me to fight back for years. Starting now is not my best decision.
“You don’t get to be happy.” He spits outhappylike it’s a dirty word. “Not on my watch.”
“What do you want from me?” My brain is starting to clear from his hit. I gave him the money to get rid of him. Tomeet his divorce blackmail. So what more does he want from me?
“Oh, I want all the money, Cals.”
I scrunch my face up as I try to comprehend. He thinks I’m going to give him all the money?
But then he leans in close to my ear, and for a second I’m afraid he’s going to bite me. Instead, he whispers, “You see, I owed that money to Jones. Now he has it. But he wants interest. More money, more time, more of my fucking soul.”
Shane stands and resumes pacing.
“What? Owed him for what?” My voice sounds like it belongs to someone else. Small and meek and inconsequential. Actually, that’s an accurate description of me.
Shane spins around and steps back to me, grabbing my chin with one hand. I whimper and shut my eyes.
“You don’t know anything,Calliope.” He squeezes my chin when I try to turn away. Hatred flares inside me. How dare he use my name the way Wes does? “Jones blames me for that cocaine shipment getting seized. I owed him a whole fucking lot of money.”
Oh, damn. I open my eyes. It’s hard to meet Shane’s intense, rage-filled gaze, but I do.
“But you gave it to him?”
“Yes! I gave him some money when I first left Portland.”
“The money from our account,” I say, but I don’t think Shane hears me. Probably for the better.
Shane releases my chin and turns, taking long, aggressive strides, shaking his hands, scrunching his face.
“And he sent me to New York City to work off the rest of my fucking debt.” Shane spits out those words, like he doesn’t believe it was really his debt at all. “When he heard that your father’s estate had cleared, he fucked me up. Toldme I needed to be ready to get it from you when you showed up with those fuck boys of yours.”
I let out a ragged breath. I am so, utterly, completely screwed.
“And then I gave him the money from your father. But was that enough? No. It fucking wasn’t.”
“Shane—”
He rounds on me and gets right in my face.
“Shut the fuck up, Cals.” Spittle flies out of his mouth and onto my cheek.
I keep my eyes focused on a spot behind him, the dark entrance to the barn. I don’t respond. I try to sink into the chair, disappear into the dark shadows behind me. But there’s no way for me to move.
“This is your fault. This is all your fault.” His voice is dangerous, and then Shane raises his hand and slaps me across the face on the other cheek. The contact stings, and for a moment I can’t breathe, can’t comprehend what just happened. Shane must’ve been holding back all these years.
“You don’t understand anything. All you’ve done your whole life is hide from who your family is. Whoyoureally are. And now look at you. Pathetic. Weak. Fragile like your fucking rabbit.”
Chapter 39
Not Where She Should Be
