Page 39 of Reveal

“Get your hands off me,” I grit out again, “or else I’ll scream bloody murder.”

“Go right ahead,” he whispers harshly, almost as if the notion excites him. “Give me a reason to involve Joey and every other goddamn person in this neighborhood. Mr. Nelson across the street owns three handguns. I’m sure he’ll come running to your defense. Don’t expect Harvey who lives two houses down to help, though. He left about an hour ago. His wife’s out of town. You know what they say about when the cat’s away and all.”

His words shake me to the core. His facts might be made up—or they very well could be the truth, for all I know—but knowing he’s researched my neighbors enough to know their names is more than unsettling.

His attempt to show me he’s all-knowing has worked.

“Come on. Give them a reason to call the cops, and then we can each sign statements about the incident. Tell them what you do for a living and you’re damned. Lie about it in a sworn statement and same goes. So please”—he rolls his shoulders so that our chests brush together again, and his guttural groan is enough to make my stomach churn—“cause a scene so the police come.”

“What do you want?” I ask when I already know the answer.

“Is that a trick question, Vaughny?” He reaches up and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear in an action that’s normally intimate but that has the polar opposite effect when done by his hand. “I was coming for the pictures.” He laughs and lifts his eyebrows. “But now? Now after you’ve threatened me? After you’ve told me no? I think you need to make up for insulting me.”

“Go to hell.”

“How cute. You actually think you have a say in this.” He leans in so that the heat of his breath hits my ear when he murmurs, “Ryker told me you were all mine, and I’ve never been known not to take what’s mine.”

I freeze when he runs a finger down my cheek and then squeezes my jaw when he comes to my chin, clearly trying to let me know he is in control. He leans back to meet my eyes as I try to jerk my head from his grip to no avail.

“Leave me al—”

“You owe me an apology.” His eyes harden and his grip tightens. “You forget who has the power in this relationship. Who has a nation at his back. Who is more believable. It won’t be right now, Vee, as it seems you’ve already had your fill of men tonight. No. I’ll give you a little more time to get used to the idea. I’ll let you have a little longer to fantasize about all the things I plan on doing to that tight little body of yours.” He emits a groan in the back of his throat that has my stomach churning. “I hear your pussy is worth every goddamn penny.”

My free hand is out, and the sound of it slapping against his cheek cracks in the silence of the night. He lets go of my jaw, and in the split second before I yank my hand back, the one clear thought that echoes through my mind is how much I hate Ryker right now.

He did this to me.

He set Carter up to think I’m his.

He jeopardized everything I’ve ever worked for.

But I don’t have more than a few seconds to compute those thoughts, because Carter Preston is glaring at me with murder in his eyes and a hard-on pressing against the zipper of his slacks. His startled look only lasts for seconds before his mask of superiority and arrogant smile slide back over his features.

He scrubs a hand over his jaw and chuckles. “We both know that’s not how I like it. I’m the one who causes the pain.” The dark undertone to his playful voice is unmistakable. “I suggest you don’t do that again, or you’ll be very sorry.”

“Then I suggest you move your hands off me, or else my knee is going to find its way ramming into your balls,” I threaten, the space between us allowing me to think clearly and without the haze of fear.

“Try it and you’ll be very sorry. Anything and everything that’s connected within a hundred-mile radius of you will be destroyed in the process.”

“You son of a bitch.”

“Uh-uh-uh, I’d watch what you say to the man who can trump every single one of your cards.” He purses his lips as his stare undresses every inch of me. “It’s such a turn-on knowing you’re going to fight me every goddamn step of the way.” He leans in, and as much as I’m repulsed by the fear I have that he’s going to try to kiss me, I don’t call chicken. I stay perfectly still and don’t back down. He stops, his lips an inch from mine, his breath feathering over them. “I get off on that. I’ll get off on you. I’ll use every inch of you, and then you’ll beg me for more. And depending on if you’re a good girl or not—if you fulfill the needs I’ve already paid for and then some—I’ll decide if I should let good ol’ Priscilla know about who exactly Madam Vee is,” he says, and panic springs to life. If he’s investigated my neighbors, I shouldn’t be surprised that he knows who Lucy’s social worker is . . . but I am.

“You wouldn’t dare—”

“Oh, but I would. And while I’m at it, I might even fill her in on what you did to good ol’ Uncle James.”

If I had any fight left in me, hearing that name knocks the wind out of my sails and fills me with shock and confusion and disbelief.

“See? I do know everything. I do have eyes everywhere. Give me what I want, Vaughny, or else I’ll find a way to get it myself.”

He presses a kiss to the corner of my lips that I’m too stunned to reject and turns to walk toward the limo, throwing over his shoulder, “Oh, and if this little conversation gets out to anyone? The same threat holds. Good to see you again. It’ll be even better next time.”

He climbs into his limo without another look my way. The security guard slides behind the wheel, and the limo pulls away.

But I’m the one standing in my front yard staring after red taillights in the distance like I just saw a ghost. I’m the one finally feeling an iota of the fear my sister used to endure. Not only fear of the physicality but more so the uncertainty and constant threat, knowing he could come after me at any moment.

I’m in my late twenties, and I’m petrified. I can’t imagine what living with this fear—day in and day out—would have felt like when I was a teenager.