Chapter 47
Grayson’s private jet flies us back to the West Coast. He remains eerily silent the entire time. Unnervingly so.
A choking feeling settles over me with each mile in the sky. If only I could rewind the clock, I would. How naive of me to think my life was in some sort of upswing. My life’s never been in an upswing. Didn’t I learn long ago not to have hopes? That hopes only get shot out from beneath me?
But hopes are what I most definitely developed in my time with West.
He put all his trust in me, and all I did was step on it. If I had just come clean earlier, we’d both be in such a different place right now. I don’t know where exactly, but it wouldn’t be here.
The thing is, I’ve spent my entire life not trusting. Not talking. Not being open. I’ve spent my entire life being scared. It’s hard to be anything else. It really is.
For sixteen years, I’ve been driven by fear. I finally did something about it and ran, and look where it’s gotten me? Right back where I started. I thought I was brave. A fighter. I’m not a fighter. I’m a coward. I’ve simply been existing. Playing at a normal life.
Tears blur my vision, and I turn my head. I don’t want Grayson to see me crying. I’m so upset at myself for handling this the way I did. I swallow the overwhelming desire to scream.
I’d give anything for West’s voice right now.
I turn to see Grayson staring at me in his infamous passive-aggressive way. He’s an expert at subterfuge. People are hypnotized by him. They blindly follow his every word. His dynamic, authoritative personality. None of them would ever guess his true malevolent self.
Hours later, the plane touches down, and his private car picks us up at the airport and drives us back to the prison I was raised in. As we pull through the gate and down the long driveway, I stare at the woods around us. The same woods I had ripped and clawed my way through in my run for freedom.
Grayson pushes the button that raises the privacy window between us and the driver. When it’s securely in place, he says, “Don’t even think about running.”
I force myself to look him directly on. Reaching forward, he slowly caresses a finger down my cheek, watching me watch him while I fight the overwhelming urge to tear away from his disturbing touch.
He gives my cheek a little slap, and it’s all I can do not to flinch. “We have so much to catch up on.”
In that exact second, it hits me. Physically, he may beat me into the fetal position, but mentally, I have control. That control fuels me with something new. Anger. It bubbles up inside of me, and I welcome it. I invite it in. It’s past time I stood up to this man.
In a stream of conscious movements, I unclench every muscle and show him the refusal in my core. It’s the first time I’ve ever presented him anything other than fear.
“What do you want from me?” I demand.
“What do I want from you?” Darkly, he chuckles. “Oh, Laura, just wait.”
“I’m different now,” I begin in a very deliberate tone. “You can’t hurt me anymore. I’m through being intimidated and abused by you. I know who I am, and one day I’ll have a life that won’t include you. I’ll look forward to that day every minute I’m with you until I’m gone.”
He narrows in, but doesn’t say anything in response. The driver comes to a stop in front of the custom-built stone mansion that is my nightmare. I don’t wait for him to open my door; I get out on my own. Grayson waits, though, climbing out and taking a second to shake hands with the driver.
“Thank you. We’re home for the night.”
With a nod, the driver slides back in behind the wheel and pulls around the rear of the house where the multi-car garage is located.
He’ll park and drive his own car home, which means within five minutes, Grayson and I will be truly alone.
Sure the housekeeper will come and go but she’s never been any help when it comes to Grayson.
It’s why he hired her—to look the other way.
Grayson takes one step toward me. “You, dear daughter, will never have freedom again.”
I hike my chin, increasingly fueled by a superiority over him. “Go to hell. You no longer have control over me. You make me sick.”
Fury gathers in him. I recognize the insane, twitchy look a second before he rears back and slaps me. The expected impact sends me stumbling backward.
He snarls. “I determine what happens to you. When are you going to realize that?”
Rage boils through my blood as I step right up and punch him in the cheek. I’ve never punched anybody in my life.
“You little bitch.” He comes right at me, grabbing me around the neck and choking, just like he did my mother all those years ago. And just like she did, I stare him straight on, daring him to go all the way.
Headlights pierce the night. The sound of an engine sputters. Grayson releases me, turning to wave at the driver as he leaves our property. When his taillights melt into the darkness, Grayson shoves me toward the house. “Inside, now.”