Until We Fly (The Beautifully Broken) (21 page)

“Don’t think I’m not pissed that you didn’t call me yourself.  I’ll be kicking your ass after I wake up.”

“I’m scared!” I yell at her back. 

The click of her bedroom door is my only answer.  I look down at Nora, only to find her staring up at me.  I can’t read her expression. 

“I’m sorry we were interrupted,” I murmur into her hair, pulling her close.  “But I’ll make it up to you tonight.”

She nods, but stays quiet.  Her uncharacteristic silence is getting to me. 

Jacey sleeps for hours, and in fact, I don’t hear her stirring until long after Nora and I have gone to bed. 

I lay in the dark, listening to Jacey’s movements in the living room, and ponder my situation. 

A year ago, I would’ve given anything to get Jacey to see me for me…. A grown man in love with her. 

But things have changed, and the only thing I feel at the moment is annoyance, that her arrival has triggered doubts in Nora.

Because I saw the doubts in Nora’s eyes.  I saw that she questioned my feelings for Jacey, that those doubts caused her to question my feelings and my intentions for her. 

We’ll hang out with Jacey for a few days, but I’m going to have a talk with Nora. I know she wanted me for the summer, but I’m not cut out for that.  Gran was right… when I open myself up to someone, I’m in it for the long haul. 

The summer won’t be enough. 

Chapter Twenty-Three

Nora

I wake up to laughter and an empty bed. 

Brand is gone, and as I glance out the bedroom windows, I see why.  He’s sitting at the picnic table in the sun, eating breakfast with Jacey.

I feel the early stirrings of jealousy in my belly and I fight to tamp them down.  I don’t own him.  He’s not mine.  But he sleeps with me at night, he holds me all night long.  I don’t have anything to be jealous of. 

That’s what I tell myself.

It’s hard though. Jacey keeps laying her hand on his arm, and they keep laughing over jokes I don’t know. There’s a familiarity between them that comes from years of knowing each other.
Really
knowing each other.  It’s hard not to be jealous of that.

Even though, at the same time, Jacey isn’t throwing herself at him.  Maybe she did at one point, but now, today, there doesn’t seem to be sexual tension there at all.  

I pull some clothes on, and run a brush through my hair, then join them outside with a cup of coffee. 

“I wasn’t sure how strong you like your coffee,” Jacey tells me, looking up from their conversation.  “So I just made it pretty mild.  I hope that’s fine.”

“It’s perfect,” I assure her.  I glance at the table, trying to decide which side to sit on.  Jacey solves that problem by patting the bench next to her.

“Come tell me all about you,” she sings cheerfully.  “I’ve got to know all about the girl who has Brand intrigued.”

He sighs loudly, but doesn’t try and steer her away, so I sit down next to her.

We chat for the next hour. 

Where do you live?

What do you do?

Where did you go to school?

The entire time, I find myself wishing that I was at Brand’s side instead of Jacey’s but I smile politely and chat and play the game.  Because it’s a game.  I know it and Jacey knows it. 

She’s acting friendly and cheerful, but she’s also acting on Brand’s behalf.  She’s searching my motives, trying to decide if I’m good enough for her friend.

But she has no right.

She hurt him more than anyone else ever will.

But I keep a smile pasted on and I answer every question. 

I even ask a few of my own.

What’s it like being married to Dominic Kinkaide?

Where do you live now when you aren’t on set with him?

Do you miss Angel Bay?

She answers my questions for the same reason as I answer hers. 

A show for Brand. 

It’s when my phone buzzes in my pocket and I see William’s name that I remember that I’ve got bigger problems to face than Jacey today. 

Don’t be late.

That’s all he says.  I glance at the time.  It’s already twelve-thirty.  The knowledge that I need to go soon makes me uneasy.  I don’t want to leave them alone.  But that’s stupid, I tell myself.  Brand is as loyal as they come. 

But he’s not mine. 

That’s an unarguable fact.  He’s no one’s.

I swallow and look at the two of them. 

“I’m sorry, but I’ve been summoned to work for a little bit. I have to drive into Chicago.  I’ll be back this evening though.”

I get up to walk into the house, ignoring Brand’s very concerned expression.  Before I reach the door, his strong hand is gripping my elbow.

“Is everything ok?” he asks quickly, his blue eyes searching mine for an answer. An honest answer.  I paste on a mask.

“Yes.”

Lie.

He raises an eyebrow and I sigh. 

“It’s fine.  My father just wants to give me some case files to study over the summer.  He wants me to be prepared for the Fall.”

Lie.

But I sound oh-so-convincing and Brand finally relaxes. 

“Do you want me to ride along?”

Yes.

But I shake my head.  “Of course not.  You have company.  Stay here with Jacey and catch up.  I’ll be home tonight.”

Home. 

A lump forms in my throat because this isn’t my home. It’s their home… Jacey’s and Brand’s. This is where they grew up.  I’ll never be a part of that. 

“If you’re sure….” Brand’s voice trails off and I kiss him hard, on the mouth.  Out of my periphery, I see Jacey watching us, something that gives me great satisfaction. 

“I’m sure.  I’ll be back tonight.”

I stride into the house with purpose and grab my purse.  I don’t look back until I’m all the way down the road. 

***

The drive to Chicago seems to take forever, even though it’s only an hour.  I weave my Jag through the Sunday afternoon traffic and by the time I pull into my parking slot in the garage at Greene Corp, my nerves are shot. 

My fingers are shaky, my heart is racing, my palms are clammy.

Brand and Jacey might be alone right now and that might be annoying, but I have to be alone with William.  And that’s more than annoying.  It very well might be dangerous. 

I gulp as I ride the elevator to the twentieth floor. 

I swallow hard as I step out and my heels click on the polished floor. 

Then, as I stand outside the doors of the conference room, I take a deep breath and try to steady myself.  I know he’s already here.  I can smell his cologne on the air… something thick and cloying and old-man-like. 

The smell brings back memories… of clawing and biting and penetration. 

I gag a little bit, grabbing the wall.

I can do this.

I can do this. 

This is me ringing the bell. 

I open the door, and as confidently as I can, I step inside. 

William waits for me at the far end of the massive conference table. 

“Come in, my dear,” he calls.  Even his voice sounds like an old man, thin and frail.  I swallow my disgust and approach him, keeping my eyes carefully on him as I stop across the table from him.

He smiles. 

“Now, was this so hard?  Really, my dear, meeting with me didn’t have to be this way.”

“I know what meeting with you is like,” I manage to bite.  “Why did you want to see me today? Let’s just cut to the chase.”

William nods, satisfied.  “You’re such a Greene, Nora.  So ready to do what you need to do.”

My stomach rolls.

“What do you want?” I ask stiltedly.  My fingers are gripping the edge of the table so tightly that I can’t feel them anymore. 

William rocks back in his chair. 

“I want to tell you a little bit about your boyfriend, of course.  You’re so young and inexperienced… I know you probably didn’t do a background check on him.  Right?”

I roll my eyes.  “That’s what you’ve got?  I don’t need a background check.  I know him.  He’s a decorated Army Ranger, a hero who saved my life. That’s all I need to know.”

William chuckles, a thin fake sound in the quiet room.  “Oh, my dear, you’re so naïve.  Your boyfriend
is
an Army Ranger.  But I doubt he told you why.”

I can tell from William’s voice that I’m not going to like what he’s going to say next. I wish I could close my ears and not listen, but I have to know. 

William won’t give me a choice. 

I don’t say anything, so he continues. 

“Branden Killien attacked his father right after he graduated high school,” William says with satisfaction, his faded eyes gleaming.  “His parents pressed charges and the judge suspended the sentence if Branden would agree to join the military.”

I’m stunned. 

I’m not mad at Brand, because honestly, after hearing about his father and seeing his mother in action, I don’t blame him.  In fact, I commend him for waiting so long.  But I am surprised that he didn’t mention it. 

William enjoys the look on my face.

“I see he didn’t mention it to you,” he says cheerfully.   “I can see why.  He thinks his records are sealed, so he never had to worry about telling you the truth. But see, my dear, nothing is sealed to me.  I have connections everywhere.  Which brings me to my point today.”

He pauses and I wait.  I stare him down, my gaze unflinching.

Fuck you, you fucking monster. 

“I’m sure Brand doesn’t want it known that the only reason he ever served his country was as a punishment for assault and battery.  His company is successful in large part because of his and his partner’s decorated military history.  The connections I have in the pentagon… they wouldn’t be very happy to know that they’re doing business with a fraud.”

My head snaps up. 

“Brand isn’t a fraud,” I spit. “No one would ever think so.”

William nods, very happy with my reaction, happy that he’s getting one. 

“They would believe that if I told them to. They would publicly withdraw their business and cite their reasons… that Branden is a fraud, a
criminal
, if I told them to.  And when that happens, Brand’s company would go bankrupt. He’d be ruined and left with nothing.”

My breath leaves my body in a rush, even though I desperately try not to show it.  “They wouldn’t,” I say, attempting to call his bluff.  “His company does a good job.  They would have no reason.”

William drums his fingers casually on the table, as if we’re having a friendly, normal conversation. 

“My dear,” he says, ever-so-sweetly. “They would do anything I ask them to do.  That’s how much weight I pull in Washington.”

I stare at him and his eyes narrow as he gets up and walks toward me.

I have to fight to remain still, to stand my ground. 

“You can’t run from me.”

He takes another step toward me, then another. 

“I always get what I want.”

He stops right in front of me, close enough that I have to breathe in his hateful cologne, and smell his fetid, hot breath. 

“Ask me, Nora.”

I turn my gaze up to meet his.  His eyes are as cold as they are faded and old. 

I seal my lips, unwilling to do it. 

“Ask. Me.”

He grabs one of my hands and squeezes it, pushing the delicate bones of my hands together.  I grit my teeth with the pain. 

He squeezes harder. 

“What do you want?” I finally ask, to make him quit hurting me. 

“You.”

I fight the urgent need to vomit. 

“He’s getting in the way of what I want,” William says pleasantly now, releasing my hand.  “I want you to leave his cottage, and come with me for a trip to Abu Dhabi.  We’ll say it’s for business.  But I assure you, it won’t be business.”

His hand juts out and cups my crotch, his fingernails digging into my tender flesh there, biting into me.  He likes pain.  I know this.  I’ve experienced it before.  He likes
inflicting
pain. 

I step backward, yanking away from him, from his evil touch. 

“You don’t want me.  You wanted my mother and you couldn’t have her.  I’m not my mother.”

William’s wrinkled mouth pulls into a cynical smile.  “What a clever girl you are.  It might’ve started out that way, I wanted you because your mother had to watch me chase you and she could never do anything about it because she’s a helpless cunt.  But I want
you
now. Your mother is old.”

So are you
.   I swallow the acid on my tongue. 

“And if I say no?”

William raises a bushy eyebrow, as if he knows I’d never dare. 

“If you said no, you’d be a very foolish girl.  I’ll ruin your meat-headed boyfriend, then I’ll ruin you. And don’t for one minute think that at least you’d have each other… because after I’m finished with him, he’ll never want you.  Not ever.  Do you think he’d really want someone who willingly entered into an incestuous affair with her very own uncle and enjoyed it so much?”

Bile rises into my throat as he pulls out a pack of pictures and shoves them across the table. 

It’s me.  Giving my own uncle a blow job. 

From the angle of the camera, you can’t see that my hands are bound behind my back.  All you can see is the tattoo on my shoulder, a unique identifier.  The twisted anchor, the words. 
Fluctuat nec mergitur.
  It’s most definitely me. 

And it’s most definitely my uncle.  His wrinkled hand is on the back of my head, forcing me to take more of him in my throat… and his very unique signet ring is on his finger. 

My uncle smiles pleasantly as he tucks the pictures back in his pocket. 

“There’s more.  There are many of you fucking me, you little whore,” he tells me, each word icy.  “And I don’t care if it gets out… you were of legal age and if anyone questions me, I’ll simply say that you’re a wanton whore who pursued me for years and in a moment of drunkenness, I gave in to you.  If you look at the pictures, it certainly appears that you’re enjoying yourself.”