“I didn’t realize I was so obvious.”
“Sparks fly when you two are in the same vicinity, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s noticed.”
“Great,” I groan, sighing. “One more thing for me to worry about.”
We drop Jane off first and set out for the ancient monstrosity I call home. “What time did Oscar leave?” I ask Louis, frowning when I see I still don’t have a reply to the text message I sent him twenty minutes ago.
Louis shrugs. “I don’t know. About two hours ago?”
I roll my eyes. Honestly, I don’t know how he’s still on my father’s payroll. He’s less than useless. All he could tell me when I got back to the car—startled to find him waiting with Jeremy when I was expecting Oscar—was he went home to deal with some family emergency. I didn’t hesitate to message Oscar immediately, concerned, wondering if there is anything I can do to help.
I put my cell away when we turn into our driveway, leaning my face against the window as I vow to cherish my last week of freedom before everyone returns.
But when we round the bend, and I spot the row of cars parked out front, my stomach dips, and disappointment slams into my gut.
They’re home early.
Shit.
That fucks up things with the guys. I guess that means we move to Plan B.
Using my bag to shield me, I tap out a quick text on my burner cell to Xavier to let him know my father is back early, asking him to relay the message to the new elite. Then I quickly stow it in the concealed inner pocket of my bag, plant a fake happy smile on my face, and get out of the car to greet the controlling bastard.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“What the hell are you wearing?” my father barks from his position in the lobby. He’s propped against the marble table as if he was waiting for me.
Hello to you too.
“Beachwear.” Dumbass. “I was at the beach all day with Jane.”
“You look like a common whore.”
His nostrils flare, and he’s a little red in the face.
Is it bad I hope it’s because of ill health? Like terminal heart disease or stage four lung cancer?
My hands ball into fists at my side. “This is what everyone wears to the beach.”
“You’re not everyone!” he snaps, pushing off the table and stalking toward me with a muscle ticking in his jaw. His eyes glimmer with cold menace, and it’s a look I’ve seen countless times before. Panic bubbles up my throat. “You know the rules. You look and act respectable, in public, at all times. The beach is no exception.”
I want to tell him to go fuck himself, but he’s riled up about something, and I don’t want to give him further ammunition to lash out at me. So, I bite my tongue and say what he needs to hear. “I’m sorry, Father. It won’t happen again.”
He grabs my arm and drags me down the corridor toward his study. His nails dig into my arm, hurting me, but I know better than to mention it, so I absorb the pain, trying to keep myself calm as adrenaline floods my system and alarm bells blare in my ears.
When he shoves me into his study and I find Drew, Trent, Charlie, Mr. Barron, and that sleazebucket Christian Montgomery waiting, my panic accelerates to new heights.
This cannot be good.
“What’s going on?” I inquire, my eyes searching Drew out. He subtly shakes his head, letting me know he’s as much in the dark as I am.
I jump as the door slams shut, startling me.
“That’s what I’d like to know,” my father growls, grabbing a piece of paper off his desk and walking toward me. His eyes are manic, the veins in his neck bulging, and he looks primed to detonate.
Fear crawls under my skin, and pressure settles on my chest. I back up until I hit the wall, throwing panicked eyes at Drew over my father’s shoulder. Drew and Charlie stand rigidly still, their brows creased with worry while Trent watches with curiosity etched all over his face. Mr. Barron, Charlie’s dad, shuffles awkwardly on his feet, rubbing the back of his head in an obvious tell. Trent’s father smirks, almost gloating over what’s about to go down.
“Whatever it is you think I’ve done you’re mistaken,” I blurt, hating how shaky my voice sounds. I’m guessing they’ve found out something about the shit that’s been going on while they’ve been away and they’re unhappy with how I handled it.
Or maybe they were in cahoots with Rochelle’s father or Wentworth’s father and I should have checked with them before I took them down. “And I’ll fix it. I swear.”
“I’d like to know how the fuck you intend to reinstate your hymen!!” my father roars, and all the blood drains from my face. Drew straightens, sending me a perplexed look while Charlie stares at the floor, hiding his face from view. For once, Trent looks confused.
No. Please, God, no. He can’t have found out.
He shoves the paper in my face. “Someone sent this to Christian,” he confirms as I try to focus on reading the words on the page, but my vision is blurry as panic races through my body at an unprecedented rate. My legs buckle, threatening to go out from under me, and I grip onto the wall to steady myself.
“Read. It,” my father demands. “Out. Loud. Or I’ll take you outside and put a bullet through your skull right this second.”
Forcing back bile, I wet my dry lips and read the words typed in large, bold font.
ABIGAIL MANNING IS A LYING LITTLE SLUT.
SHE’S ALREADY SPREAD HER LEGS AND THE JOKE IS ON YOU AND YOUR SON.
That’s all it says. It’s like one of those blackmail letters you see on crime shows except this letter isn’t demanding any ransom. It’s just sealing my fate.
“It’s not true,” I blurt, in a complete state of panic, not thinking it through. “When would it have happened? I’m surrounded by the guys or my bodyguards all the time. And Jeremy drives me most everywhere. Whoever sent this is messing with you. It’s probably a student at school, and this is their sick way of trying to get back at me for this week.”
My heart is racing so fast I’m worried I’m on the verge of a coronary. My palms are slick, and my brow is dotted with little beads of sweat.
My father grips my chin painfully. “If you’re lying to me, you’ll be sorry.”
“I’m not lying,” I lie, silently praying for divine intervention. Begging him to believe me and drop it even though I know it goes against my father’s M.O.
He releases my chin and steps back, scrutinizing my face carefully. I try to hold his gaze with confidence I don’t feel, but it’s challenging when my whole body is trembling and I’m this close to puking.
The instant a smug grin tips up the corners of his mouth, I know I’m screwed. “There’s an easy way of determining this,” he says in a lethal tone, yanking me to him and dragging me across the room. He slams me across his desk, holding my face down with one meaty palm while he yanks my flimsy beach dress up with the other. “Trent, son, get over here.”
My heart is pounding frantically, and my breathing is labored. I can even smell my fear. He presses his palm tighter on my face, smooshing my cheek into his desk, but I barely feel any pain because my body’s gone into shock as he rips my bikini bottoms off in front of the room. Cool air swirls around my naked buttocks, and I wish the ground would open up and swallow me.
“Father, I—” Drew’s anguished eyes meet mine as he attempts to intervene. Charlie jerks his head toward his father, but I can’t see his expression.
“You dare to interrupt me, Andrew?!” My father roars at my twin. “This is business. Exactly the thing we’ve trained you to deal with. If you can’t handle it, you know where the door is. But don’t expect me to support you if you walk out.”
“Daddy, please,” I sob, not above begging if it’ll save me from this new humiliation. Christian Montgomery licks his lips as his eyes flit from my face to my bare ass. Nausea swims up my throat at the sight of the growing bulge in his pants.
My father’s large palm swats my ass, and I cry out as stinging pain sears
my flesh. “Shut your mouth, and spread your legs, Abigail, and I’ll make this quick.”
“Michael, is it necessary to do this here? You could conduct an examination in private,” Mr. Barron says, and I could kiss him for attempting to reason with my father even though I know it’s futile. Both he and his son are averting their eyes, only making me respect them more.
“Stay out of this, Charles. I don’t tell you how to deal with your children, so butt out of my affairs.”
“Trent, son, you’re the only one who can do this,” my father says, working hard to keep a level tone. I can tell he’s seething. “Shove your fingers inside her, boy!” he barks, lifting me up by my waist so my ass is at a higher angle. Then he roughly forces my legs apart, and a loud sob rips out of my mouth, birthed straight from my wounded soul. “Feel if her hymen is still intact,” he commands.
I’ve never let Trent touch me down there because the thought of him touching me intimately sends tremors of fear rushing through me. I never imagined his first time fingering me would be like this.
Tears roll freely out of my eyes as he plunges his finger inside me, pushing it up as far as it will go and feeling around, making my humiliation complete. The jagged edge of his nail tears me inside, but I bite down on my lip, determined not to make another sound. Silent tears continue to pour from my eyes, and something inherent shatters inside me. The pain in my chest is so intense it feels like I can’t breathe.
Drew keeps his eyes locked on mine, an apology written on his face. Both Barrons continue to stare at the floor, but it makes little difference. They are still in the room to bear witness to my humiliation.
“What’s the verdict?” my father asks.
“I…I don’t know,” Trent says. “She’s very tight.”
“Bend down and look inside her,” my father commands, and my heart cracks wide-open. I can’t keep my cries locked inside any longer, and I openly sob. Drew silently pleads with me to hold it together, but I can’t. This is the worst affront to my privacy. An invasion I’ll never get over. I can’t believe Drew is allowing this. That his half-assed attempt at intervention was all he tried before accepting this as inevitable. If someone turned the tables, I’d have yelled bloody murder before I’d let him humiliate my twin.
“What am I looking for?” Trent asks as if he’s never seen a vagina before.
“If her hymen is intact, there should be a thin layer of skin covering her opening with a small hole in it.” Either my father Googled this before I came home or this isn’t his first rodeo. I’m inclined to believe it’s the latter.
“I see nothing like that,” Trent says, using his fingers to open the front of my vagina, probing my folds to ensure he’s doing a thorough job.
I want to die. To curl into a ball and cease to exist.
I should have just come clean instead of lying.
At least I might have been spared this humiliation.
A loud knock on the door sends my heart rate elevating to heart attack territory as thoughts of what he has planned next swirl through my fractured mind.
“Come in,” my father calls out as if he doesn’t have his almost-eighteen-year-old daughter spread-eagled across his desk with her ass and pussy on display.
“Ah, Doctor Cummings,” he says, finally lifting his hand from my head. “Thank you for attending on such short notice. And on a Sunday too. I appreciate it.”
Drew finally moves, pulling my dress down over my naked ass and helping me up. I slap his hands away, crossing my arms around my trembling body. I avoid looking at Trent, not wanting to see the smug expression on his face. Tears continue to cascade down my cheeks, and I’m powerless to stop them. A sharp ache lances across my chest, and a choked lump clogs my throat as the worst pain attacks me from all angles.
“I’m always at your disposal, Mr. Hearst,” the doctor says in a monotone voice. “Is this her?”
“Yes.” My father pulls me over by the arm. “I need your professional opinion on whether or not her hymen is intact.”
That fucking bastard.
I glare at him.
He’d already summoned the doctor, so this was for pure show. A way to prove to Trent’s father he’s taking the accusation seriously. A way to punish me for my crime. Another means to try to break me.
“I’ll need a private room with a bed,” the doctor says.
“I’ll have Louis take you to her bedroom. You can examine her there.” I half-expect my father to march everyone with us, but he lets me leave with the doctor alone. “Don’t let her out of your sight,” he tells Louis, and the asshole nods with a gloating smile.
I glance over my shoulder at Drew, begging him to do something, but he hangs his head, and I know I’m on my own with this. Charlie finally lifts his head and looks at me. The tears in his eyes almost undo me, but I’m desperately trying to lock everything up inside until I can let it loose when I’m alone.
The doctor is cold and unfriendly as he instructs me to lie on my back on the bed, bend my knees up, and spread my legs wide. Louis wets his lips as he watches from the doorway. The asshole could easily keep watch from outside, but he’s enjoying seeing me suffer. I could ask the doctor to send him away, but I have a feeling the request would fall on deaf ears, and I won’t give Louis the satisfaction of knowing this is getting to me.
I squeeze my eyes shut when the doctor inserts his gloved finger inside me, and my ruination has come full circle. He flashes a small flashlight into my vagina, and more tears leak out of the corners of my eyes.
When he’s done, he hovers over me with steely eyes. “You need to come back downstairs with me.”
“I need to use the bathroom first,” I say, and he nods.
“Make it quick.” His tone is scathing.
I pull panties out of my laundry basket in the bathroom and pull them on before swiping angrily at the hot tears coursing down my cheeks. I blot my eyes and dab at my damp skin, fixing my hair and brushing my teeth, before I leave and rejoin a smirking Louis and the coldhearted doctor.
“What is your professional opinion?” my father asks the instant we step foot back in his study.
“She’s not a virgin,” the doctor coolly states, signing my death warrant.
“Thank you, Doctor Cummings, that will be all.”
Louis escorts the doctor out, and the second the door is closed, Trent flies across the room, grabbing me by the throat. “You fucking, lying, cheating whore!” he spits, his eyes burning with rage and indignation.
“Get your filthy hands off her,” Drew says, grabbing Trent’s elbow and trying to pull him back.
“I’ll fucking kill you, you slut!” He tightens his grip on my throat, restricting my oxygen supply. His neck muscles strain, and pure liquid venom spills from his eyes as he continues to squeeze me.
My eyelids flutter as black waves wash over my retinas. “Do it,” I rasp while Drew and Charlie attempt to pry Trent’s hands from my throat, but his hold is firm, and he’s not giving up easily. Mr. Barron is shaking his head sadly, and Christian Montgomery looks like he wants to join his son in throttling me. He’s no longer ogling me with desire, so that’s at least one positive to come from this epic clusterfuck.
“Trent, I need you to let Abigail go,” my father says. “I’ll deal with this.”
“She’s my fucking fiancée,” he growls.
“She’s my daughter.” My father squares up to him. “Let her go.”
“Son, let her go,” Mr. Montgomery says, and Trent drops me instantly. I crumple to the floor, gasping for air, rubbing my sore neck as tears spring from my eyes. Before I’ve had time to catch my breath, my father hauls me up, slamming me roughly into a chair he’s placed in the center of the room. He ties my wrists and ankles to the arms and legs of the chair, and I wonder what new humiliation he has in store for me.
An icy-cold river sweeps through me, replacing all the blood in my veins, and a protective layer closes around my heart, sealing everything warm and humane behind i
t. My tears dry up, my previous anguished emotions replaced with an angry numbness I cling to.
My father stands in front of me, barely concealing his fury. “I’ll ask you some questions, and I want answers. Refuse me, and I’ll beat you to within an inch of your life.”
I school my lips into a neutral expression and stare impassively at him. If he thinks I’m giving him anything, he’s deranged.
I try one last-ditch attempt at changing my fate even if there’s little hope of success. “Father, I swear to you I’m a virgin. I could’ve broken my hymen dancing or horseback riding. It’s well known there are several ways it can happen. Ask the doctor. He can’t say with one hundred percent certainty I’m not a virgin.”
My father looks contemplative for a moment, and I can almost see the wheels turning in his brain. I’m giving him an out should he choose to take it and run with it.
But Trent’s father isn’t buying it. “Stop.” Christian’s nostrils flare as he steps up to me. “Just stop lying. If you dare to disrespect me and my son, the least you can do is own up to your sins.”
I snort. “The way you own up to yours?”
He slaps me so hard my head jerks back painfully, and it feels like it’s disconnected from my neck. “I want the truth,” he demands, shooting my father a look which says the game is up and there’s no point in me trying to stick to my claim of innocence. Even if I was pure, they wouldn’t believe me.
A fresh wave of anger washes over my father’s face as he leans into me. “Who have you had sex with?”
Even though it appears the new elite have reneged on our deal and fed me to the sharks, withholding Cam’s name will infuriate my father, and that’s all I care about now. If he thinks humiliating me, and beating me, will give him answers, he’s sorely mistaken.
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