I thought I hated Father. But there are worse people in the world, aren’t there? I’ve been blind to a lot of things.
She slammed the door behind her, taking small satisfaction in seeing the guard jump back just before it shut fully. It was a stupid and petty move, but it felt good all the same.
I’ll be the one to turn him in. Or kill him. Either way, it doesn’t matter. The world isn’t big enough for the both of us. This wedding thing was stupid. Inconvenient. But this... this is...humiliating.
But hadn’t she purposefully humiliated herself last night just to get to Luke, to plan with him?
No... that kind of thing didn’t matter. What mattered was that he’d dragged that recording out in front of... well, everyone. David. Servants. That was no one else’s business but her own. And Luke’s. And that guard that she’d duped. But that was IT. She hadn’t expected to be playing to the masses. That just felt... icky.
She made a slow turn, facing what she thought was the general direction of the library. In her mind, she called on her mother and swore an oath to her that she would bring Benny down for what he’d done. In whatever way presented itself.
In the meantime, I swear I will harm, hinder, defeat, and bother every plan, idea, or thought he ever has. I will annoy, worry, and bother his every move. And if I have to come like a night assassin and go through his men one by one until he’s the only one left standing, then so be it. And then I will kill him, too.
Of course, she had no idea how. Being tough when you’re alone in your bedroom was one thing, but to implement said plan was another.
Her mind slipped back from the hatred that stirred her soul and reached for the memory of Luke. In the past few days, when her rage or despair had become too great, too heavy to bear, she thought of him and felt... lighter. She was besotted, to put a fine point on it, completely taken with him.
But now, when her mind ran to his smile, his sarcastic wit, his graceful way of moving, she only saw him trembling, a dull blade shattering the recorder with the force of his rage. Beating up the guard in the bathroom was one thing. That act was almost casual, negligent. He had been firmly in control.
That was the problem. Luke had lost all control. Benny got under his skin and he lost it completely. What was it Benny said? “So that’s what it takes to get under your skin?” It was a test as much as anything. He was trying to get Luke to lose his temper; he wanted to see what Luke was capable of when he pushed him hard enough.
She fell onto the bed and covered her face with her hands. She tried to remember every word of their conversation, tried to remember if either of them had ever indicated that Luke was a cop. He’d been very specific about not being overheard by the guard, so they’d spoken carefully, referring to Randy only as ‘your friend’ and so on. He did mention the USB stick a couple of times, thankfully only referring to it as ‘the stick,’ but Benny didn’t know about the USB. Without either of them mentioning that word, he wouldn’t have any context for it. Right?
It was easy enough to verify: if Benny knew Luke was a cop, he’d kill him. He hadn’t, so they’d dodged that bullet. Literally. So, the next step was to wait. If they were tortured to reveal the location and contents of the USB stick, then Benny knew there was one floating around and knew what to look for. On the other hand, if they were tortured to reveal what the stick even was, then Benny didn’t have context. Either way, there was probably going to be some questioning involved.
Chances were their faces and hands wouldn’t be injured, they had to be pretty for the wedding snaps. Likewise, she had to walk down the aisle, so her legs probably wouldn’t be broken. But there were a lot of options in between. Not a good feeling. More and more she was thinking she should have taken out the goon on the stairs and then just taken her chances on the rest. How many men did Benny have in the house anyway? She closed her eyes, trying to remember faces when they all seemed to blur together in her mind. She came up with a dozen that she was fairly sure of. Chances were they were local boys who went home to sleep at night. Or day, depending on their shift. Maybe a half-dozen, then, in the house at any given time? No more than ten.
She could take out ten.
Ha. Hardly. She could take out ten if she were armed. The most threatening thing she had in her bedroom right now was a ballpoint pen.
She lay in her bed, hand falling limply to her sides. Damn him. Damn the man for a thousand lifetimes. Last night had been freakin’ amazing. Wonderful. None of the fight dancing they’d done, slamming each other, kicking, biting... well, except that one time compared to this. Last night had been mutual. It had been precious. It was love, damn it, it was love; he’d made love to her and even the sweet memory had been forever soiled by that fat little man who had the balls to laugh at her.
Her thoughts returned to Luke. The strength that was required to jam a butter knife through a device like that was unthinkable. The muscles she’d seen rippling under the skin as he worked out were impressive, even gorgeous, but that was something that required herculean effort. That was one of those adrenaline-pumping-so-hard-he-could-do-inhuman-feats things.
And the way he shook. He had been ready. He would have given his life to get to Benny. If he’d thrown the knife he might have killed Benny, and then they’d all be dead. If he’d followed through on the motion his body was primed for, he would have been shot before he got across the table. Though she didn’t think that would have stopped him just then.
But he’d taken that rage, that blind adrenaline and stuffed it down, pulled in the beast and held himself against it. The testosterone battle with the guard on the way out notwithstanding, he managed to pull himself together and bank it down. That was the scariest part. He’d swallowed the beast.
An old teacher of hers warned her about the beast. It was an unthinking, unreasoning animal that lived in each of us, he said. It would kill with tooth and claw, and had neither finesse nor logic. It was simple rage or fear. It was to be harnessed, directed, but never ever fed. He said once released, it ran until it was exhausted, and there was no way to hold the reins once broken free.
It was here that she saw the old man had been wrong. There was someone who could hold the beast, that could pull it, screaming and clawing and roaring, and confine it behind tender and malleable flesh.
And make no mistake, girl, he did that for you. Because he saw you rise to the balls of your feet. He saw you pick your target. He knew that you wouldn’t survive unless he pulled it back.
Dani felt despair, anger, fear... who wouldn’t? But a tiny part of her mind smiled.
Hell, if that’s not love, what is?
CHAPTER EIGHT