Boss Daddy, page 25
He gave her a strange look, one she couldn’t decipher. “I have a confession.”
“A confession? Have you been drugging me at night?”
“What? No!” He gave her a shocked look before rising to sit on the coffee table. “I was walking past your room one night and heard you calling out. I honestly thought someone was in the room with you, so I walked into your bedroom.”
“You what?”
Holy. Fuck.
What had he seen? Oh shit . . .
“I was terrified when I couldn’t see you at first. You weren’t in the bed and the light was on in the bathroom. I thought someone had taken you. But then you called out again, and I found you behind the sofa with a pile of pillows and stuffies.”
“Oh, ah, right.”
He raised his eyebrows, leaning forward to put his hands on her legs once more. Only this time, he put them under her dress, directly against her skin.
“You’re cold.”
No. Nope. She really wasn’t.
“You need to dress more warmly.”
“I don’t like the feel of clothes against my skin, and when I’m alone or I feel safe, I don’t wear a lot of clothes.”
“I’d prefer you were always naked, when it’s just the two of you.” He gave her a stern look as though he thought she might really start walking around the house naked.
Silly man.
“But I don’t want you getting cold. Here, tuck this blanket further around you. We need to find you some clothes that feel good against your skin, so you aren’t getting chilled.”
He was such a worrywart.
She wisely didn’t say that to him, though. She doubted that his worrywart tendencies were something he wanted all his men to know about. It was super sweet, though.
“Baby, why were you sleeping behind the sofa?”
“Because it feels safe when I hide,” she told him.
“Uncle Thomas didn’t visit that often. This is going to sound weird . . . but my mom would change when he was around. She’d laugh and touch him all the time. . . and I don’t know. It was odd.”
“You think she was flirting with her stepbrother?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
“That would be terrible, right?” She hated even thinking it.
“They’re not related by blood. They grew up together?”
She frowned, thinking. “I think since they were teenagers. Uncle Thomas is two years older. Maybe they were fourteen and sixteen when their parents moved in together?”
“Hmm. And she did this in front of your father?”
“No, I don’t think so. I can’t remember exactly. But I don’t think my dad liked him. He used to be grumpy when he came around, which wasn’t often.”
“What did Uncle Thomas do?” he asked in a low, smooth voice. But it coated her skin in icicles. “Do you need another blanket?”
“No, I, uh . . .” Could she ask for what she needed? She wasn’t sure.
“You can ask me for anything.”
“Would you sit next to me?” she whispered. “Maybe hold me a bit? I feel better when you’re touching me.”
Immediately, he rose and settled in next to her, pulling her close with his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him, breathing him in.
“Anytime you need a hug, my touch, then you tell me straight away. Understand? That’s a rule.”
“I can’t keep all these rules straight,” she teased. “I might need them in an email.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll remind you. Perhaps we need to write them on a big whiteboard and display them where you’ll see them every day.”
Her eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.”
Oh, that evil look on his face said he’d do just that.
“That’s not very nice.” She dropped her lower lip.
“None of this.” He ran his finger over her lower lip. “Or I’ll be tempted to kiss you.”
“I wouldn’t object.”
“Are you trying to distract me from talking about what happened?”
Was she? Yes, more than likely.
“Tell me, baby.”
She sucked in a breath.
Come on, Dahlia. You can do this.
For so long, she’d bottled this up. Pushed it down deep and tried to forget it. And look where that had gotten her. Traveling around in an RV on her own, running and hiding from her problems.
“Like I said, Uncle Thomas didn’t come over a lot, but when he did, he always seemed to single me out. When my dad wasn’t around, he’d pull me close and hug me too tight. I think my issues with touch might have started then. I don’t know. But he never did anything. I just felt all squirmy in my stomach. The worms.”
He let out a deep breath. “Asshole.”
“My dad was still at work this night that Uncle Thomas turned up. I don’t remember my mom saying he was coming over. He . . . he waited until she was out of the room to pull me onto his lap. I was eight and I didn’t want to sit with him. It just felt wrong.”
She licked her lips, trying to ease her breathing as he rubbed her back.
“This particular night the weather was stormy. I’d always hated thunder. Often my dad would end up in my room with me. But he wasn’t there, so I was already on edge. I pushed myself off his lap, kicked him in the shin then ran. He was yelling after me, calling me names and it scared me. I ran to the special hiding place I always used when I played hide and seek with my dad. We lived in an old house and it had this weird little storage closet down in the basement. It was tucked away behind boxes, and if you didn’t know it was there you wouldn’t find it. The storm raged outside and I hid there, shaking, terrified and feeling ill.”
“Fucking hell. How long were you there?”
“I don’t know. It was only my mom and Uncle Thomas home; my sisters were out. I heard them calling for me for a while then they must have given up. But I was still too scared to come out. My dad found me hours later when he got home. My dad . . . his face was so mad. I thought it was at me at first, but he picked me up and told me everything would be okay. As Dad carried me to my bedroom, my mom came out of their room. She was in her nightgown.”
“She went to bed? While you were missing?” he snapped.
“Yes. My dad slept with me that night, holding me through my bad dreams, and then the next morning my uncle was gone and my mom was in a bad mood.”
“That bitch. You think your dad kicked him out?”
“Well, I never saw Uncle Thomas again . . . until . . .”
“Until when, baby girl?”
“My dad died and he came to the funeral,” she whispered. “I had several nightmares after what happened, but it became almost like a dream. You know? I almost thought I imagined it all. And when he came to the funeral, he didn’t even talk to me. My mom was all over him and my sisters were really embarrassed. I saw him a few times over the years, but never for long. And nothing ever happened. He never really looked at me.”
“Doesn’t mean that he didn’t cause damage to you.”
“No, I know,” she whispered. “But I started to think I’d imagined it or made it out to be bigger than it was. I got through high school, got into college, and I decided to study political science. Well, my mom kind of pushed me into it. My dad was the assistant speaker for the House of Representatives when he died.”
“Really?”
“I really wanted to do something more creative, but she said that politics was in my blood and I couldn’t let my dad down. That’s what really got to me. During my last year of studying, she even helped me get an internship with Senator Robins.”
“What? Jonathan Robins?” he asked sharply.
“Yes, why? Did you know him? Oh, you remember how he was killed?” She shivered. “That was terrible, right? I only met him twice while I was interning, and he just seemed like a normal family guy.”
“I have some history with the Robins family,” he said darkly.
“You do?”
“Remember how my daughter was kidnapped?”
“Yes?” She stared at him in bewilderment.
“We believe the man who kidnapped her, Mr. X, gave her to Jonathan Robins Senior. He pretended she was his daughter and kept her locked away for years.”
“What? Oh my God. That’s terrible. Why would he do that?”
“Senior was involved in the same human trafficking ring.”
“Wait, you said that you sent someone undercover with a family that was involved with trafficking girls. That’s the family?”
“Yes. They’re all dead now, but we still have to find Mr. X.”
“You’ll find him,” she said with complete confidence.
“Tell me the rest of the story.”
“Um, well, guess who Jonathan Robin’s chief of staff was? Uncle Thomas.”
“Fuck. Your mother set you up to come into contact with that bastard again? Who does that?”
She let out a small sob. “My mother apparently. In her defense, I don’t think she ever believed that he could do anything like that. I don’t see him as my uncle, as anything other than a monster who preys on people who are weaker than he is. Who he thinks won’t fight back.”
“What happened, baby girl?”
“Things were okay for a start. I didn’t really see Thomas. But then, he’d just pop up out of nowhere. He’d come into the tiny copy room when I was there. He’d lean against me, and I could feel . . . could feel how hard he was. He’d put his hand on my shoulder as he leaned over me to talk about my work as I was sitting at my desk. He’d brush his hand against my ass as he walked past me.”
She took long, slow breaths. “No one seemed to see anything weird in what he was doing. Things got slowly worse. I didn’t know who to tell. I was just an intern. I’d lose my place. Everyone would take his side. And there was no proof.”
“He used his position of power over you to keep you quiet.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “And I knew my mom wouldn’t listen to me. I tried to say something once and she shut me down.”
“Do you think she knew?”
“I don’t think so, but then I don’t really want to think that my own mother would set me up to be . . . to be abused. She always had such a blind spot when it came to him. None of the touches were overt . . . not until my immediate supervisor asked me to work late one night. It was stormy and awful so I was already on edge.”
She ran her hand over her face. “He . . . he found me in the copier room. It was a small room with nowhere for me to hide. He . . . he pinned me down. I couldn’t move. His hands were everywhere, touching me even though I begged him not to. I remember the thunder booming and it kept sending me back to that other night.” She sobbed, placing her hands over her face.
“Mother-fucking bastard. Baby.” He lifted her gently into his lap. “Please stop crying. Please.”
She tried to pull herself together, to draw in a deep breath. As her sobs lessened, a white handkerchief appeared in front of her face. When she reached for it to clean herself up, he drew it back.
“Allow me.”
To her surprise, it was calming having him care for her like that. Maybe it should have been embarrassing, especially when he held the cloth to her nose and told her to blow. But she was too exhausted to feel embarrassed.
This was more tiring than she’d thought it would be. After he cleaned her up, she leaned her head against his chest, drawing in his strength, his calm. She was surprised. She thought he’d be raging.
That he’d be at least as angry as when he’d pulled up to her crashed RV. He’d looked like he was going to tear the whole forest down until he found her.
“Dahlia?”
“Yes?” Wow. She might feel drained, but she also felt lighter. As though a burden had been lifted from her.
“Did he rape you?”
She stiffened and looked up at him. Or tried to. He placed his hand on the side of her face, pressing it gently to his chest. “Just answer me, baby.”
“No,” she said quietly. “He . . . he . . . he came up behind me. Pressed himself against me. I could feel how hard he was. He told me what he planned to do. That he was going to pull my skirt up, rip my panties and fuck my pussy. I just froze. I felt sick. But I froze. I should have fought back.”
“Hey, you listen to me. None of what happened is your fault, do you understand me? He was in the position of power. And this is all on him.”
“I know that. Logically. But I just . . . everything was mixed up in my brain. The past and the present. He called me a slut. Said I’d been teasing him for years. Some of the things he was saying were weird . . . it wasn’t until later that I realized something.”
“What’s that, baby?”
“I’m the carbon copy of my mom,” she said quietly. “I think some of the things he was saying . . . they were memories of my mom.”
“What happened? How did you get away from him?”
“My supervisor. I’m not sure why she came back. He must have asked her to keep me back, and maybe she thought she’d check on what was going on. When she walked in, he immediately backed off. I had tears running down my cheeks and he told her that we were just having a family reunion, that I was upset over my dad’s death. He was such a smooth talker. I knew she’d listen to him and I just . . . I ran. It’s what I do best.”
She smiled bitterly.
“You can’t blame yourself for running. You were scared. If you’d stayed . . .”
“I know,” she whispered. “I couldn’t stick around. I ran back to my apartment. I didn’t know what I was going to do. I was packing up some things, thinking I’d go back to the college dorms when . . . when the door to my apartment started to open.”
“What the fuck? It was him?”
“Yes. My mother rented the apartment for me, and I think she must have . . . must have given him a key.”
“What the hell?”
“What she didn’t know is that it the landlord put a deadbolt in after I moved in and that I always used it. He was trying to get in, calling out to me, telling me to let him in. I was panicking. I didn’t know what to do. I knew if I called the police, he’d be able to spin a story. My mother would back him up. And he would likely push his way inside before the police would arrive. So I quickly grabbed what I could, some clothes, Ricky Rhino, keys to my car and my handbag, then I climbed out the window. There was a fire escape and I climbed down it, then raced to my car.”
He started rocking her. “Where did you go?”
“I headed back to my dorm, but on the way there, my mother called me. She was . . . she was angry at me because he’d called her and told her that I’d been rude to him. That I’d accused him of trying to touch me when he was just being friendly. I tried to explain, but she wasn’t listening. She said I was to go back and apologize to him, or she’d cut me off financially.”
“That fucking bitch.”
“I don’t know if she really knew what he was like. What he was doing.”
“She gave him a key to your apartment! It doesn’t matter if she knew or not. She didn’t listen to you. You were her daughter, it was up to her to protect you, not shove you into that monster’s arms.”
“I knew she wasn’t bluffing. I would be completely cut off. I went back to the dorms to pack up what I could, even though I was scared he’d chase me down. While I was there . . . I got a call.”
“Who from?” he asked.
“It was my supervisor.”
“What?”
“She asked me to meet with her. She promised that Thomas wouldn’t be there. So I . . . I stupidly went. I thought that maybe she was going to take my side. That she’d help me remove the nightmare from my life.”
“What happened?”
“I met her in this park, by a playground at night. That should have set off all my alarm bells. But I was a fool. Naïve and stupid.”
“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” he growled. “You know that’s a rule.”
“I don’t think it counts when it’s true.”
He cupped her chin. “It does count and I won’t have it, understand me? Because it’s not true.”
“Okay,” she whispered, not really believing it.
Because she had been stupid.
He dropped his hand away.
“There was a man with her. When I got closer, I realized he was a senior aide to the Senator. He held an envelope out to me. I just stared at it . . . I didn’t get what was happening. I thought they wanted to talk about what happened and instead they . . . they . . .”
“Were buying you off?”
“Yes. They wanted my silence. They said they couldn’t have anything come back on the senator as he was considering a run for President. They didn’t care that I had been terrorized. That he’d tried to rape me. All they cared about was what I was going to do.”
She licked her dry lips. She hated this part. It was almost worse than what he’d done. Because she’d thought they would be her saviors.
“What did you do?” he asked.
“I told them no. I started to leave. I was devastated. There wasn’t one person that cared about what he’d done to me. That was willing to ask if I was all right. Because I wasn’t. I really wasn’t. I was falling apart. I was screaming for someone to see me. To help me. But no one did.”
“They all failed you.”
“The senior aide started to get angry. Told me that if I went to the press they’d discredit me. No one would believe me. They’d dig up everything about me. I didn’t care about that . . . I wasn’t even sure what I was going to do. I didn’t blame the senator, it wasn’t his fault. I’m not even sure if he knew what they were doing. My supervisor took over. She was like the good cop to his bad. She asked me what I thought the outcome would be from this? She told me to take the money because either way no one would believe me. But at least I could get free.”
“That bitch could have gone to the police with you. Although, fuck, knowing Senior and his sons, you’re lucky they didn’t have you killed. Maybe the Senator didn’t know what they were doing.”
“Maybe. My family is quite high profile around Washington. My dad had a lot of money and my mom was on a lot of charity boards. One of my sisters is a lawyer and the other one works for a different senator. At least my supervisor wasn’t trying to intimidate me. I thought about it . . . I knew I had to run. They were right. No one would listen to me. They’d tear me apart. But even worse, if I had nowhere to go, with no money, how would I hide from him if he came looking for me?”
“A confession? Have you been drugging me at night?”
“What? No!” He gave her a shocked look before rising to sit on the coffee table. “I was walking past your room one night and heard you calling out. I honestly thought someone was in the room with you, so I walked into your bedroom.”
“You what?”
Holy. Fuck.
What had he seen? Oh shit . . .
“I was terrified when I couldn’t see you at first. You weren’t in the bed and the light was on in the bathroom. I thought someone had taken you. But then you called out again, and I found you behind the sofa with a pile of pillows and stuffies.”
“Oh, ah, right.”
He raised his eyebrows, leaning forward to put his hands on her legs once more. Only this time, he put them under her dress, directly against her skin.
“You’re cold.”
No. Nope. She really wasn’t.
“You need to dress more warmly.”
“I don’t like the feel of clothes against my skin, and when I’m alone or I feel safe, I don’t wear a lot of clothes.”
“I’d prefer you were always naked, when it’s just the two of you.” He gave her a stern look as though he thought she might really start walking around the house naked.
Silly man.
“But I don’t want you getting cold. Here, tuck this blanket further around you. We need to find you some clothes that feel good against your skin, so you aren’t getting chilled.”
He was such a worrywart.
She wisely didn’t say that to him, though. She doubted that his worrywart tendencies were something he wanted all his men to know about. It was super sweet, though.
“Baby, why were you sleeping behind the sofa?”
“Because it feels safe when I hide,” she told him.
“Uncle Thomas didn’t visit that often. This is going to sound weird . . . but my mom would change when he was around. She’d laugh and touch him all the time. . . and I don’t know. It was odd.”
“You think she was flirting with her stepbrother?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
“That would be terrible, right?” She hated even thinking it.
“They’re not related by blood. They grew up together?”
She frowned, thinking. “I think since they were teenagers. Uncle Thomas is two years older. Maybe they were fourteen and sixteen when their parents moved in together?”
“Hmm. And she did this in front of your father?”
“No, I don’t think so. I can’t remember exactly. But I don’t think my dad liked him. He used to be grumpy when he came around, which wasn’t often.”
“What did Uncle Thomas do?” he asked in a low, smooth voice. But it coated her skin in icicles. “Do you need another blanket?”
“No, I, uh . . .” Could she ask for what she needed? She wasn’t sure.
“You can ask me for anything.”
“Would you sit next to me?” she whispered. “Maybe hold me a bit? I feel better when you’re touching me.”
Immediately, he rose and settled in next to her, pulling her close with his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him, breathing him in.
“Anytime you need a hug, my touch, then you tell me straight away. Understand? That’s a rule.”
“I can’t keep all these rules straight,” she teased. “I might need them in an email.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll remind you. Perhaps we need to write them on a big whiteboard and display them where you’ll see them every day.”
Her eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.”
Oh, that evil look on his face said he’d do just that.
“That’s not very nice.” She dropped her lower lip.
“None of this.” He ran his finger over her lower lip. “Or I’ll be tempted to kiss you.”
“I wouldn’t object.”
“Are you trying to distract me from talking about what happened?”
Was she? Yes, more than likely.
“Tell me, baby.”
She sucked in a breath.
Come on, Dahlia. You can do this.
For so long, she’d bottled this up. Pushed it down deep and tried to forget it. And look where that had gotten her. Traveling around in an RV on her own, running and hiding from her problems.
“Like I said, Uncle Thomas didn’t come over a lot, but when he did, he always seemed to single me out. When my dad wasn’t around, he’d pull me close and hug me too tight. I think my issues with touch might have started then. I don’t know. But he never did anything. I just felt all squirmy in my stomach. The worms.”
He let out a deep breath. “Asshole.”
“My dad was still at work this night that Uncle Thomas turned up. I don’t remember my mom saying he was coming over. He . . . he waited until she was out of the room to pull me onto his lap. I was eight and I didn’t want to sit with him. It just felt wrong.”
She licked her lips, trying to ease her breathing as he rubbed her back.
“This particular night the weather was stormy. I’d always hated thunder. Often my dad would end up in my room with me. But he wasn’t there, so I was already on edge. I pushed myself off his lap, kicked him in the shin then ran. He was yelling after me, calling me names and it scared me. I ran to the special hiding place I always used when I played hide and seek with my dad. We lived in an old house and it had this weird little storage closet down in the basement. It was tucked away behind boxes, and if you didn’t know it was there you wouldn’t find it. The storm raged outside and I hid there, shaking, terrified and feeling ill.”
“Fucking hell. How long were you there?”
“I don’t know. It was only my mom and Uncle Thomas home; my sisters were out. I heard them calling for me for a while then they must have given up. But I was still too scared to come out. My dad found me hours later when he got home. My dad . . . his face was so mad. I thought it was at me at first, but he picked me up and told me everything would be okay. As Dad carried me to my bedroom, my mom came out of their room. She was in her nightgown.”
“She went to bed? While you were missing?” he snapped.
“Yes. My dad slept with me that night, holding me through my bad dreams, and then the next morning my uncle was gone and my mom was in a bad mood.”
“That bitch. You think your dad kicked him out?”
“Well, I never saw Uncle Thomas again . . . until . . .”
“Until when, baby girl?”
“My dad died and he came to the funeral,” she whispered. “I had several nightmares after what happened, but it became almost like a dream. You know? I almost thought I imagined it all. And when he came to the funeral, he didn’t even talk to me. My mom was all over him and my sisters were really embarrassed. I saw him a few times over the years, but never for long. And nothing ever happened. He never really looked at me.”
“Doesn’t mean that he didn’t cause damage to you.”
“No, I know,” she whispered. “But I started to think I’d imagined it or made it out to be bigger than it was. I got through high school, got into college, and I decided to study political science. Well, my mom kind of pushed me into it. My dad was the assistant speaker for the House of Representatives when he died.”
“Really?”
“I really wanted to do something more creative, but she said that politics was in my blood and I couldn’t let my dad down. That’s what really got to me. During my last year of studying, she even helped me get an internship with Senator Robins.”
“What? Jonathan Robins?” he asked sharply.
“Yes, why? Did you know him? Oh, you remember how he was killed?” She shivered. “That was terrible, right? I only met him twice while I was interning, and he just seemed like a normal family guy.”
“I have some history with the Robins family,” he said darkly.
“You do?”
“Remember how my daughter was kidnapped?”
“Yes?” She stared at him in bewilderment.
“We believe the man who kidnapped her, Mr. X, gave her to Jonathan Robins Senior. He pretended she was his daughter and kept her locked away for years.”
“What? Oh my God. That’s terrible. Why would he do that?”
“Senior was involved in the same human trafficking ring.”
“Wait, you said that you sent someone undercover with a family that was involved with trafficking girls. That’s the family?”
“Yes. They’re all dead now, but we still have to find Mr. X.”
“You’ll find him,” she said with complete confidence.
“Tell me the rest of the story.”
“Um, well, guess who Jonathan Robin’s chief of staff was? Uncle Thomas.”
“Fuck. Your mother set you up to come into contact with that bastard again? Who does that?”
She let out a small sob. “My mother apparently. In her defense, I don’t think she ever believed that he could do anything like that. I don’t see him as my uncle, as anything other than a monster who preys on people who are weaker than he is. Who he thinks won’t fight back.”
“What happened, baby girl?”
“Things were okay for a start. I didn’t really see Thomas. But then, he’d just pop up out of nowhere. He’d come into the tiny copy room when I was there. He’d lean against me, and I could feel . . . could feel how hard he was. He’d put his hand on my shoulder as he leaned over me to talk about my work as I was sitting at my desk. He’d brush his hand against my ass as he walked past me.”
She took long, slow breaths. “No one seemed to see anything weird in what he was doing. Things got slowly worse. I didn’t know who to tell. I was just an intern. I’d lose my place. Everyone would take his side. And there was no proof.”
“He used his position of power over you to keep you quiet.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “And I knew my mom wouldn’t listen to me. I tried to say something once and she shut me down.”
“Do you think she knew?”
“I don’t think so, but then I don’t really want to think that my own mother would set me up to be . . . to be abused. She always had such a blind spot when it came to him. None of the touches were overt . . . not until my immediate supervisor asked me to work late one night. It was stormy and awful so I was already on edge.”
She ran her hand over her face. “He . . . he found me in the copier room. It was a small room with nowhere for me to hide. He . . . he pinned me down. I couldn’t move. His hands were everywhere, touching me even though I begged him not to. I remember the thunder booming and it kept sending me back to that other night.” She sobbed, placing her hands over her face.
“Mother-fucking bastard. Baby.” He lifted her gently into his lap. “Please stop crying. Please.”
She tried to pull herself together, to draw in a deep breath. As her sobs lessened, a white handkerchief appeared in front of her face. When she reached for it to clean herself up, he drew it back.
“Allow me.”
To her surprise, it was calming having him care for her like that. Maybe it should have been embarrassing, especially when he held the cloth to her nose and told her to blow. But she was too exhausted to feel embarrassed.
This was more tiring than she’d thought it would be. After he cleaned her up, she leaned her head against his chest, drawing in his strength, his calm. She was surprised. She thought he’d be raging.
That he’d be at least as angry as when he’d pulled up to her crashed RV. He’d looked like he was going to tear the whole forest down until he found her.
“Dahlia?”
“Yes?” Wow. She might feel drained, but she also felt lighter. As though a burden had been lifted from her.
“Did he rape you?”
She stiffened and looked up at him. Or tried to. He placed his hand on the side of her face, pressing it gently to his chest. “Just answer me, baby.”
“No,” she said quietly. “He . . . he . . . he came up behind me. Pressed himself against me. I could feel how hard he was. He told me what he planned to do. That he was going to pull my skirt up, rip my panties and fuck my pussy. I just froze. I felt sick. But I froze. I should have fought back.”
“Hey, you listen to me. None of what happened is your fault, do you understand me? He was in the position of power. And this is all on him.”
“I know that. Logically. But I just . . . everything was mixed up in my brain. The past and the present. He called me a slut. Said I’d been teasing him for years. Some of the things he was saying were weird . . . it wasn’t until later that I realized something.”
“What’s that, baby?”
“I’m the carbon copy of my mom,” she said quietly. “I think some of the things he was saying . . . they were memories of my mom.”
“What happened? How did you get away from him?”
“My supervisor. I’m not sure why she came back. He must have asked her to keep me back, and maybe she thought she’d check on what was going on. When she walked in, he immediately backed off. I had tears running down my cheeks and he told her that we were just having a family reunion, that I was upset over my dad’s death. He was such a smooth talker. I knew she’d listen to him and I just . . . I ran. It’s what I do best.”
She smiled bitterly.
“You can’t blame yourself for running. You were scared. If you’d stayed . . .”
“I know,” she whispered. “I couldn’t stick around. I ran back to my apartment. I didn’t know what I was going to do. I was packing up some things, thinking I’d go back to the college dorms when . . . when the door to my apartment started to open.”
“What the fuck? It was him?”
“Yes. My mother rented the apartment for me, and I think she must have . . . must have given him a key.”
“What the hell?”
“What she didn’t know is that it the landlord put a deadbolt in after I moved in and that I always used it. He was trying to get in, calling out to me, telling me to let him in. I was panicking. I didn’t know what to do. I knew if I called the police, he’d be able to spin a story. My mother would back him up. And he would likely push his way inside before the police would arrive. So I quickly grabbed what I could, some clothes, Ricky Rhino, keys to my car and my handbag, then I climbed out the window. There was a fire escape and I climbed down it, then raced to my car.”
He started rocking her. “Where did you go?”
“I headed back to my dorm, but on the way there, my mother called me. She was . . . she was angry at me because he’d called her and told her that I’d been rude to him. That I’d accused him of trying to touch me when he was just being friendly. I tried to explain, but she wasn’t listening. She said I was to go back and apologize to him, or she’d cut me off financially.”
“That fucking bitch.”
“I don’t know if she really knew what he was like. What he was doing.”
“She gave him a key to your apartment! It doesn’t matter if she knew or not. She didn’t listen to you. You were her daughter, it was up to her to protect you, not shove you into that monster’s arms.”
“I knew she wasn’t bluffing. I would be completely cut off. I went back to the dorms to pack up what I could, even though I was scared he’d chase me down. While I was there . . . I got a call.”
“Who from?” he asked.
“It was my supervisor.”
“What?”
“She asked me to meet with her. She promised that Thomas wouldn’t be there. So I . . . I stupidly went. I thought that maybe she was going to take my side. That she’d help me remove the nightmare from my life.”
“What happened?”
“I met her in this park, by a playground at night. That should have set off all my alarm bells. But I was a fool. Naïve and stupid.”
“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” he growled. “You know that’s a rule.”
“I don’t think it counts when it’s true.”
He cupped her chin. “It does count and I won’t have it, understand me? Because it’s not true.”
“Okay,” she whispered, not really believing it.
Because she had been stupid.
He dropped his hand away.
“There was a man with her. When I got closer, I realized he was a senior aide to the Senator. He held an envelope out to me. I just stared at it . . . I didn’t get what was happening. I thought they wanted to talk about what happened and instead they . . . they . . .”
“Were buying you off?”
“Yes. They wanted my silence. They said they couldn’t have anything come back on the senator as he was considering a run for President. They didn’t care that I had been terrorized. That he’d tried to rape me. All they cared about was what I was going to do.”
She licked her dry lips. She hated this part. It was almost worse than what he’d done. Because she’d thought they would be her saviors.
“What did you do?” he asked.
“I told them no. I started to leave. I was devastated. There wasn’t one person that cared about what he’d done to me. That was willing to ask if I was all right. Because I wasn’t. I really wasn’t. I was falling apart. I was screaming for someone to see me. To help me. But no one did.”
“They all failed you.”
“The senior aide started to get angry. Told me that if I went to the press they’d discredit me. No one would believe me. They’d dig up everything about me. I didn’t care about that . . . I wasn’t even sure what I was going to do. I didn’t blame the senator, it wasn’t his fault. I’m not even sure if he knew what they were doing. My supervisor took over. She was like the good cop to his bad. She asked me what I thought the outcome would be from this? She told me to take the money because either way no one would believe me. But at least I could get free.”
“That bitch could have gone to the police with you. Although, fuck, knowing Senior and his sons, you’re lucky they didn’t have you killed. Maybe the Senator didn’t know what they were doing.”
“Maybe. My family is quite high profile around Washington. My dad had a lot of money and my mom was on a lot of charity boards. One of my sisters is a lawyer and the other one works for a different senator. At least my supervisor wasn’t trying to intimidate me. I thought about it . . . I knew I had to run. They were right. No one would listen to me. They’d tear me apart. But even worse, if I had nowhere to go, with no money, how would I hide from him if he came looking for me?”
