He crosses his arms and leans against the back of the couch as if nothing matters, despite the fact that my world is crumbling around me. I have no job, no credit, no money, and in excess of two hundred and forty thousand dollars to atone for.
“Eighty thousand dollars each year,” he responds, his satisfied tone jolting me back to reality. “I donated tuition, books, and room and board to a more deserving soul. Marlon Thomas, a young man from Harlem. Do you know Marlon? He’s quite grateful for my generosity.”
My face crumples into a thousand pieces. In helping this underprivileged young man, my father has assured two things: that I’ll be the one stuck paying the bill, and that he’ll come out a hero.
I have no grounds to fight these costs. None. It’s my name on the juris doctorate, my body that sat through each class, my mind that was expended learning. I’ve accepted everything from him—his insults, his degradation, his mistreatment—I’ve starved because of empty promises he never intended to keep.
“You asshole.”
His expression quavers, before heating with fury. “What did you say to me?”
“I said you’re an asshole!” I stomp forward. “Everyone thinks you’re this righteous and admirable member of the community. But you’re nothing more than a selfish and manipulative bastard.”
“You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
“You’re wrong. Aside from your wife, I’m the only one who knows what a vengeful snake you truly are.” I kick the envelope back at him. “I’ll take the debt—I’ll take all of it. But I’ll be damned if I ever take your shit again.” I storm out the door and punch the elevator button, but when I hear his footsteps racing toward me, I hurry to the back stairwell. My steps are quick, wanting to put as much distance between us as possible. Yet my father won’t let me walk out of his life unscathed.
He snatches my arm before I reach the first step. “Listen to me, Contessa. It doesn’t have to end this way.”
I try to yank my arm away, but he holds tight. “Spencer still needs a reputable partner at his side—listen to me!” he yells, shaking me hard. “He’s to be the next mayor—the next governor. For each event where you’re seen with him, I will pay a portion of your expenses on your behalf.”
“Let go of me!” I scream. “I won’t be your puppet any longer.”
Without thought or care, my father shoves me away. My arms flail as I try to stop myself from falling. But I can’t.
I fall screaming, my body smacking against the steel steps. Agony engulfs me as I land hard on my spine. I don’t know what’s happening. I can’t think. All I know is the pain burning through me.
Excruciating jolts shoot from my pelvis and into my legs. I clutch my belly, crying. “I-I-I need help,” I stammer.
“Tell me you’ll be with Spencer.” Father waits at the top of the steps, his hands balled at his sides. “Contessa, say you’ll do this for me!”
A sob breaks through my lips. “I need help,” I repeat. “Please help me. Please.” Warmth floods my thighs, and every breath rakes my body with misery.
Yet the help I ask for doesn’t come. The slam of the door forces me to glance up. My father is gone.
Once more, I wait alone.
My discarded purse and its contents lie scattered over the first few steps, the remains of my phone in pieces. Somehow, I find my feet.
I stagger down four more flights, clinging to my belly, and falling more than once. The alarms blast as I stumble through the emergency exit. “Jesus Christ!” the rookie yells, racing toward me when I collapse.
He knows I’m hurt. The blood seeping through my white skirt is proof enough that I need the help my father denied me.
Chapter 28
Curran
I don’t run through the hospital, I fucking tear down the halls. Killian is the first I see as I round the corner of the Emergency Department. He barrels in front of me with Declan and Finn, all three blocking my path. “Easy, Curran,” Killian says.