Chapter 3
Isee the questions swirling in their eyes. Every one of them looks like they’re about to burst at the seams at any moment.
What I don’t want is to have them all throwing questions at me at the same time.
We’ll get nowhere like that, and while I really do want Jade to eat, I may have also used that excuse to get her out of here.
She’s had enough of her past dug up and put on display these last few weeks.
So if I can get this over with before she returns, that would be ideal.
I watch as the guys settle into the room.
Trent leans forward, bracing his hands on the back of Zander’s chair, while Spencer walks over to lean against the desk.
It doesn’t escape my notice that it so happens to be the same spot Jade just occupied, but I don’t point it out.
Instead, turning my attention to Roderick, who stays exactly where he is, but I didn’t expect him to move. I’m sure he’ll be pacing soon enough.
“I grew up with everything handed to me, much like all of you did. My father was a business manager who was not only very connected, but very good at what he did. He built an empire and rose through the ranks to get everything he ever wanted.” I explain, getting right into it.
“Was?” Rick questions, never one to miss the details.
“Yes, was. He’s dead now,” I explain. “For now, if you want answers, you’ll listen. If you have questions, we can handle them after, but I’d rather get this over with.”
“Before Jade gets back?” Zander asks, and I fight the urge to snap at him. I just got done telling them to listen; of course, he does the opposite. But one look at him lets me know he didn’t ask to push buttons in typical Zander fashion. No, I can see the concern in his eyes.
I nod and see an understanding flash in his eyes as he sits up straighter, preparing himself for what he knows won't be a happy story.
It’s not. Not even a little, but where we ended up isn’t so bad now, and that's something I have to remind myself of as I dive back into shit that haunted me for years.
“When I was younger, my father worked a lot. It was often just my mother and I, but things were good, we were happy.” I shake my head slightly, remembering just how normal things were before I push forward.
“Right after my tenth birthday, my mother broke down one night. She was tucking me into bed crying, telling me how much she loved me and how sorry she was. I didn’t understand half of what she said, but I remember hugging her and telling her it was fine.
I just wanted her to stop crying...” I let my words trail off.
Fuck.
I hate talking about this shit, but even as I sit here hating it, my mind wanders back to Jade, as it often does, and I know I have to keep going.
I don’t want her to have to dig this shit up to explain, which means I have to do it.
She seems to trust these guys, and that means they need to know, to understand.
“That was the last time I saw her. The next morning, she was gone. My father told me she left and ran off with another man, like the cheap whore she was.” I try to keep my voice neutral, but it’s impossible.
Anger leaks through, and I know they all hear it, though I refuse to meet their eyes and see their looks of pity.
It’s been a long time since someone looked at me like that, but I remember the feeling.
I hated it, which is one of the reasons I worked so hard to be where I am. Nobody pities me now. They would never look at me and see the sorry excuse of a man that I used to be.
“My father hired a live-in nanny after that to take care of me, and things weren't terrible, but they were never the same. A few years went by when I started middle school. He kept the nanny and even though I didn’t need one, it was better than being alone. I came home early on a half day. My father knew nothing about my schooling, not my grades, teachers, or even whether I bothered to go. Of course, he didn’t know I had a half day, but he typically wasn’t home, so I didn’t think it mattered.
When I walked in, I found him fucking the nanny.
” The memory assaults me. Even after all these years, it’s as if it happened just yesterday.
“At first, I was angry. I always hoped my mother would come back, and we’d be a family again.
This destroyed that, even if it was never a real possibility; in my mind it was.
When the girl caught sight of me, I realized it wasn’t what I thought at all.
She was screaming, but not from pleasure.
She started begging me to help her, crying and clawing at my father’s arms that held her to him.
It didn’t take a genius to understand what was happening, why he’d kept her around.
He was raping her. This wasn’t something she asked for.
He didn’t keep her around for me. He did it for himself. ”
Someone sucks in a breath, and it could be any of them.
I don’t look up to see, but I know how they feel on the subject.
Vengeance doesn’t deal in skin, and none of my guys will stand for it.
I know Trent won’t either. Even if he wasn’t a cop, he’s too much like them, even if none of them would ever admit to it.
“I attacked him, and she was able to get away. She ran out the front door half-dressed and never looked back. He beat my fucking ass that night. I wasn’t able to go to school for over a week and could hardly move from my bed, but I would’ve done it again to save her from him.
And I did. Over and over, I spent my days saving nannies, maids, and random drugged girls from bars and clubs.
I saved them from him for years, and he would always turn his fists to me after.
Finally, I got to the point where I was happy to take the beating.
That meant I’d saved them. I wore every bruise like a badge of honor.
” I curl my fists on my thigh as I remember the days when I would look in the mirror, only to find that my reflection was someone I didn’t recognize.
I’d hated the way I looked, but I’d hated him more, hated everything he took from people around him.
“When I was fifteen, he came home angrier than I’d ever seen him before, without a girl for the first time in forever.
I was making dinner for myself since our last nanny had yet to be replaced, and he attacked me in the kitchen.
Back then, I was smaller, and while I could take his beatings, I wasn’t in any kind of shape to fight him off.
Before that night, I’d never needed to. He would beat on me until it bored him, then leave, and that was it.
” My heart pounds in my chest so loud I’d be shocked if they can’t hear it.
I’ve long since buried the past. Most days I can pretend it was another life, a different person.
But not today, not while I see it all play out like some sick movie in my mind.
It’s even worse knowing it doesn’t get better, not for a long time.
“I don’t know what made that night different for him, but instead of getting bored with me, he beat my ass until I couldn’t move and then told me I would be his new bitch since I was so set on saving all of them.
He told me it was a lesson on how unfair life is.
A lesson on how I’d wasted all my time saving those girls, only to have nobody to save me. ”
I bite back bile as I recall just what he meant by that.
If I close my eyes, I could slip back into it all so easily.
I’ve done it a million times in my nightmares.
I smell the cheap vodka on his breath, feel the grip of his hand around my throat as he told me nobody would save me, relive the spike of panic I felt when I realized the truth to his words.
But I don’t. Taking a deep breath, I push those thoughts aside in order to keep going. This story only gets worse, and I don’t have time to get lost in the fears of a teenage boy. My father doesn’t have any control over me anymore; he doesn’t have control over anything.
“He was right. Nobody came for me. For the next year, I became whatever it was he needed. If he wanted to fuck, he came to me. Wanted to beat the shit out of someone, he came to me. I’d started working out in my spare time, but I still wasn't nearly big enough to keep him away. The most I ever got was a few hits in on him, but that only made my punishments worse, not that I cared. Any hit was worth it.”
What I wouldn’t give to be able to go back now. To beat his ass the way he did mine. I’ve dreamt of it more times than I can count, watching the light leave his eyes as I bash his fucking face in.
“His business was the only thing he cared about, but because he had so much money and such high connections, he was damn near untouchable. I tried to run away a few times, but the police brought me right back. I told the school what he did, and they brushed it off, but not before telling him. He beat me so badly every time I tried to get away that I thought I might die. A part of me wanted to just be done with it. But I was a coward. I couldn’t take his life or my own, no matter how much I wanted to, no matter how much he fucking deserved it.
” His abuse of power is what led to Vengeance.
It sparked the idea not only of being untouchable but of who might need saving.
And who needed to be handled.
“It went on like that for a few years, and along the way, I just kind of gave up. I let him do what he wanted, stopped fighting back, stopped trying to escape, and just existed in my own personal hell. I thought at least it was only me. At least I’d save anyone else from having to live through this.
I didn’t realize how wrong I was until it started again.
He brought home a hooker and paid her for sex one night.
He roughed her up, but I didn’t step in.
She didn't seem like she needed help. She was being paid, after all.”