Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 126564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“There’s no shame in dyslexia.” I twisted around, facing him. “You took an innocent learning disability and made it into a liability. You broke me.”
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. I could tell he was devastated—my father never showed signs of emotion, and this, for him, was a lot. I relished his pain.
“Hallie—”
“Admit it,” I cut him off. “I’m invisible. I’m not in this house, not in these rooms, not in your soul, in your veins. You try, but I can see your heart’s not in it. Know how I know?”
He blinked, staring at me, bracing himself for the blow. I smiled.
“I know because you refused to read the writing on the wall.”
“How do you mean?” The wariness in his expression told me he knew a blow was coming his way.
“Craig,” I choked out his name, taking a step back from Dad. “Craig has been sexually abusing me. For years.”
The world spun out of focus as my father, for the first time since I was born, broke down in tears. He turned around, giving me his back to ensure I couldn’t see them. Pressed his face to the wall, his shoulders quaking uncontrollably.
“No,” I heard a gasp coming from the door. “No, no, no.”
Mom stood there, in her cashmere suit, her fingers fluttering over her lips. She stared at me, awe-struck. “Hallie, tell me this is not true.”
For some reason, I never thought they’d believe me if I came forward. Never thought they would take me seriously. I guess they didn’t think I was as much of an airhead as they’d made me peg myself to be.
“I’m not telling you anything.” Coldly, I gave her my back, picking one of the random whiskey glasses on the desk and tossing it down. “You’re hardly my mother. Save for giving birth to me, you’ve been pretty absent from my life.”
“Of course, I’m your mother!” Mom choked out. “Tony, do something.”
Through the reflection of the spotless window, I could see her collapsing onto the floor, bracing herself by one of the walls.
“If this is true…” Dad stalked toward me, his face red and angry. “If he really hurt you—”
“Oh God, Dad, not this.” I plopped down on his chair, crossing my ankles on his desk. “The if part is so unnecessary and insulting. Especially since, as I recall, you ran for re-election on the promise of not silencing women, their experiences, or their struggles.”
“I’m not doubting you.” He went down on one knee, trying to catch my gaze unsuccessfully. “I’m trying to understand…trying to digest what’s happening here…”
“Don’t bother.” I waved him off. “No words can suffice for what I’ve been through. The experience is awash in shame, pain, and regret. You were right to do the article without me. I’m really not a part of this family anymore. Mr. Lockwood?” I called out, glancing at the door.
Ransom appeared like a demon summoned, hands behind his back.
“Miss Thorne?”
“Our next stop is my sister’s apartment in downtown Dallas. Could you ensure the car’s ready?”
“Absolutely,” he said readily, the glint in his eyes telling me he was proud.
Then it happened. Out of all the moments, of all the days, of all the times we’d spent together.
Like a punch to the gut came the awful, tragic realization that I was in love with Ransom Lockwood.
Orphaned. Soulless. Heartless. And broken to a fault.
In love with his good parts as well as the bad ones. The ugly parts and those so beautiful it made it impossible for me to think about him and breathe at the same time.
I was in love with how he made me feel, with whom he made me become. Once he left, he was going to take my heart with him, and I could do nothing about it.
In a daze, I stood, making my way to the door. My parents tried to stop me. My mother flung herself in front of the door, crying desperately for me to stay. I sidestepped her, feeling at ease about what had happened with my parents and completely panicked about being in love with Ransom.
“We’re making a stop at a police station first.”
Ransom delivered the news with the quiet finality of a man who knew he would not be met with resistance. No turning back from this one. My actions at my parents’ house couldn’t be undone. I didn’t want them to be undone. Craig had committed atrocious acts against me, and he deserved to pay for it.
“It’s going to be embarrassing.” I nibbled on my thumbnail, looking out the window.
“It’s going to be empowering,” Ransom retorted.
A thought occurred to me. One I must’ve shoved to the back of my mind while confronting my parents, who, by the way, were blowing up my phone and going straight to voicemail.
Turning sharply to my bodyguard, I said, “They can terminate your contract at any time. I basically spat in their faces and told them, not in so many words, that their assistance and financial support is unappreciated.”