Broken Chains

by Lizzy Ford

  Broken Chains

  #3, Broken Beauty Novellas

  Lizzy Ford

  Broken Chains copyright ©2017 by Lizzy Ford

  Cover design copyright © 2017 by Lizzy Ford

  Published by Captured Press

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Any references to historical events; to real people, living or dead; or to real locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and their resemblance, if any, to real-life counterparts is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  Also By Lizzy Ford

  About the Author

  1

  Dear Diary –

  My birthday was two days ago. I went to the DA’s office that day and told them I was still following through with everything. He’s waiting until next week, because Chris wants to give the Connors advance notice. That must be political, because I don’t think they deserve notice. But I don’t understand politics, either.

  Daddy hasn’t kicked me out. Will my luck hold? Are things finally getting better?! I’m scared to believe it’s possible. The past two weeks, I’ve been a good daughter for once in my life. I do everything Chris tells me. No trouble, no back talking my therapist. I do my homework. I don’t text Dom, in case someone is monitoring my phone again. I’m even keeping the secret about talking to the DA, and the charges he plans on making against Robert next week, from Ari. THAT is killing me. She’s been my bf since we were little. I hate not telling her!

  One more week of quiet and then things will get messy again. Chris says the trial is going to be awful. I’m scared. But I’m glad I have had a little time to catch my breath. I’m working out every morning like Gianna said to. I think it helps. I don’t start my day as angry anymore.

  Little victories. Chris says I’m on the right track. Some days, I’m not so sure, but I trust him.

  I finish the journal entry in the car on my way to school and tuck the diary into my bag as Fabio pulls up to the curb next to my school. He doesn’t speak when I get out, and I don’t try to talk to him, either. I can’t help but to glance over my shoulder. No paparazzi are allowed on campus, and Robert isn’t lurking in the bushes to attack me.

  After all these weeks, why does that still surprise me?

  It’s … quiet. I’m not used to quiet, and it leaves me a little unsettled. Not in a bad way. I feel … hopeful. I have since giving the statement.

  Hopeful scares me, though. Before, I felt like I had nothing to lose. But if I’m starting to see an end to my misery, I can lose that hope, if something bad happens.

  I shake my head and mentally recite one of the mantras Dr. Thompkins taught me. I have a break for another week, and I’m going to appreciate every moment of quiet I have. Chris says I won’t have any peace until the trial is over, which could take years.

  Entering the school, I reach my locker, put away my things, and once again, pause to look around.

  Ari isn’t here yet, which doesn’t surprise me. I pull out my phone to see a text from her saying she’s running late. For once, I don’t feel exposed and scared without her to stand between me and everyone else at school.

  None of the students look my way anymore. Thank god I’m old news. I’m back to being invisible in a crowd – which is how I prefer it to be. Ari has always been the social one, along with everyone in my family. I want to be left alone.

  For the first time in months, I am being left alone.

  The bubble of hope expands inside me. Maybe things are returning to normal. I don’t allow my optimism to form completely, because I’ve learned firsthand how fragile hope, and anything good in this world, can be. I’m growing up and becoming cynical, like everyone else I know.

  My first class – English Composition – is boring and quiet. I never really liked boring, but I’m starting to appreciate it now. Boring means I’m not on the front page of tabloids. Boring means my father isn’t threatening to throw me out, and Shea isn’t trying to force me into the mold they think is necessary for the public to see. Boring means I can go get coffee with Ari after school without being stalked by the media.

  Boring means I don’t hurt quite as much as usual, and I’m not scared of what happens next.

  Boring is a dream come true.

  The bell chimes to signal the end of first period. I gather my stuff and go to the hallway. Ari has texted me to meet at her locker between classes. I reach her locker first.

  “Mia!” Ari’s voice is panicked. I turn to face her. She’s flying down the hallway as fast as she can through the students during the five minutes we have between classes. The last time she sounded like that, a week ago, she told me she and Benji were an official couple.

  I smile when she reaches me, expecting some more good news, like maybe he asked her to the Halloween dance, or she’s going on a weekend trip with him.

  “Come here!” She grabs my arm. She pulls me around the corner and looks up and down the hall before hurrying towards a darkened classroom. “Mia, you have to see this.”

  My smile slides away. This isn’t about Benji. She’s not happy-excited.

  She pulls me into the classroom and to the window on the far side.

  A crowd has started to gather near the entrance to campus. News vans, reporters, and campus security are huddled in the driveway.

  “Oh, god,” I breathe. “What happened? Is it about me?” I’m praying it’s something silly, and maybe the media isn’t here for me, but by the look on Ari’s face, I’m definitely the reason.

  So much for boring, I think in dismay.

  “Don’t you ever follow the news?” Ari sighs. “They know about Robert.”

  I stare out the window. My life is a rollercoaster. Just when I feel like I’m stabilizing, my world falls apart – again – and I’m left reeling.

  “You should see what they’re calling this scandal.”

  “It’s not a scandal,” I say. “It’s a crime! They’re murderers!”

  “I know, I know,” she replies. “I meant, it’s the only gossip going around right now.”

  I check my phone. I’ve received no messages from Chris at all to warn me. Does that mean he didn’t expect this? “It’s a week early. The DA said next week,” I mumble. “I’m not ready for this.”

  I’m starting to stress out.

  “Something must’ve happened,” Ari says. “The media is running stories about Robert Connor raping the daughter Gerard Abbott-Renou. Oh, and he’s apparently suing you for slander or something.”

  I check my phone. There’s nothing from Chris about any of this. I’m safe for now, inside the gates of the school. But my whole world is going to change when I leave school today. For a moment, I feel lost again.

  “Where’s Fabio?” Ari asks.

  I blink out of my thoughts. “We were trying to lay low. He’ll come with the car to pick me up,” I answer.
<
br />   “No one will be able to get through that crowd once school is over.”

  The crowd is growing as I watch. Another news van pulls up. Ari’s right. By the end of the day, no one will be able to access campus at all.

  My heart is hammering and my throat is tight. Any semblance of hope or peace I experienced earlier is gone.

  “Let’s just go back to class,” I whisper. “Chris will fix this by the end of the day.” Unless, of course, he’s been caught off guard. What happened? How did anyone find out? Does this have something to do with Chris warning the Connors? Is this political? Did they decide to strike first?

  I want to know – but I’m also afraid to ask, in case it’s so much worse than I think.

  “It’s okay, Mia,” Ari says and rests a hand on my arm. “This will end up being a good thing. You’re going to help put those wackos in jail.”

  I don’t share her faith. My hands are shaking.

  We walk together to our next class.

  The school is buzzing with the news by lunch. I try to play it cool, and so does Ari, but I forgot how horrible if feels to know everyone is whispering about me and sneaking looks.

  Every time I look, the media circus in front of the school has grown. Chris sends one-word answers to my texts, and none of them are helpful.

  Is it true about the press knowing?

  Yes.

  Are you doing something about it?

  Yes.

  Should I come home now and skip cheer practice?

  No.

  In the end, I’m too agitated to ask anything else, and I silently send him a flurry of curses before trying to pay attention in class.

  Somehow, I survive the second half of my day without cracking under the stress of not understanding what’s happening. Ari and I go to cheer practice after classes. Everyone in our school is from a high-profile family; the other girls in the squad ignore the paparazzi snapping pics over the fence around the football field.

  When cheer practice is over, Ari and I climb the stadium bleachers to look out over the gates. I clutch Ari’s hand. It looks like a concert outside the gates – protestors have joined the media, and the crowd stretches for blocks. The police have closed off the main street leading to campus.

  I check my phone. Nothing new from Chris. Does he know I’m trapped at school? How can he not?

  “How do we get out of here?” I ask. I’m the one everyone is waiting for. There’s no chance I can walk out like the other girls, and I doubt Fabio can make it past the police barriers, throngs of people and onto campus.

  “We’re going out the back,” Ari says.

  I eye her.

  “You know how my dad is.” She rolls her eyes. “I always have an escape plan. He insists on it. Look. Fabio can’t even get in. The police blocked the street off.”

  “So we’re just gonna … walk?” I ask.

  “Yep. You can see the side entrance from here.”

  I have no idea what she’s talking about. She trots down the bleachers and onto the football field. I follow, uneasy with her plan. I haven’t been alone outside my house, the shelter or the school.

  We go to the locker room.

  “Travel light,” Ari advises. “Don’t take your books and put everything in your bag.”

  “You’re scaring me,” I tell her.

  “Someday, I’ll tell you more about my dad.” She grins.

  “Is he preparing for the zombie apocalypse?”

  Ari giggles and nods. I recall Chris talking about Ari’s dad before. He owns one of the largest defense consulting companies in the world and was apparently in some sort of special operations unit before he took over his father’s business.

  I do as Ari says, grateful she’s there. If it was up to me, I’d curl up in the locker room and wait for the media to leave. After seeing that crowd, I know Ari’s plan is the only way out of here any time the next decade.

  We chuck the books and pack what we need. I tighten the strips of my backpack and put my cell in my pocket.

  We don’t go out onto the field again but stick to the bleachers, walking through the tunnel running beneath them. I never noticed the tunnel before. I never had a reason to.

  “You have this planned,” I say.

  “You have no idea. Dad makes me plan stuff like this for everywhere I spend time. All our houses, school, even the mall, Mia. And he drills me, all the time. I have two escape routes memorized for everywhere I go.”

  “At least he cares.”

  She looks over her shoulder at me with a frown.

  “Why hasn’t Chris texted me?” I ask, distraught.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get you home, and you can talk to him then.”

  To my surprise, we walk off the school grounds without drawing any attention. The side gate leads into a quiet neighborhood. I assume we’ll just walk down the streets until we get home, but Ari takes a narrow alley between houses. We zigzag through a couple of neighborhoods, each one growing more run down, until I’m starting to feel scared again.

  Chris is going to be pissed when he finds out.

  2

  “You know where you’re going, right?” I ask Ari.

  “Yeah. I figure when we’re far enough away, we can call for a ride.” Ari is cheerful, like she escapes every day. “Omigod, I just had an idea. Why don’t you call Dom to come get us? No one can get into or out of school, and the press will just follow Fabio if you call him.”

  “Dom has a real job,” I say. I haven’t talked to him in over two weeks, either.

  “But he’s a cop. No one’s gonna mess with him.”

  “I can’t believe this happened today,” I mutter.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me all the details, like when they were going public.” Ari gives me a dirty look.

  “Ari, I couldn’t tell you. I wasn’t supposed to tell you what I did. Chris said I had to keep everything quiet, especially after …”

  “After what?”

  “Nothing.” I glance at my new phone. This one hasn’t been out of my sight at all. I sleep with it in my hand, just in case.

  She stops and faces me. “You’re my best friend! How can you keep secrets from me?”

  “I know, I know!” I groan, feeling horrible.

  The hurt look she gives me makes me feel even guiltier.

  “Okay. I’ll tell you a secret,” I say. “Ari, I didn’t have a miscarriage.”

  “So you’re still pregnant?”

  “No.”

  Realization dawns. “Omigod!”

  “Daddy found out. Only like, three of us knew. Chris thinks someone tapped my phone or something. That’s why I had to get a new one two weeks ago and why I haven’t been saying much at all when I text.”

  Ari’s jaw drops. “This is like a freakin’ movie!”

  “It’s serious, Ari!” I shake my head and start walking down the street, not sure where I’m going.

  “Dad can get you a phone no one can tap or hack into. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Why would I ever think I’d need something like that?” I retort. “I mean, it’s my phone. It’s almost always with me.”

  “You do know what my dad does, don’t you?” Ari raises her eyebrows at me.

  “A little.”

  “Where do you think Fabio came from? Chris called him to ask for a referral. Fabio is trained in several martial arts and pretty much every weapon in existence.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yep. Next time something security related happens, you tell me!” Ari says firmly. “If I tell Dad I need a super secure phone no one can hack, he’ll give me one and he won’t ask questions. I can help you with all of that.”

  “Hopefully it doesn’t happen again,” I reply.

  “Okay, what else have you been keeping from me?” Ari jogs in front of me and faces me, walking backwards. “Spill it.”

  “Nothing.”

  “What’s supposed to happen in a week?”

  I
sigh. “The DA is going public with the case. They’re going to formally charge Robert and Madison Stewart.”

  “I knew you talked to the police. I didn’t know you really were going to put them in jail.” Ari smiles.

  “Do you really think so?” I ask, stopping. “I’m scared, Ari. Not just scared, but I talked to other women who were raped. It never works out the way it should. The bad guys don’t go to jail most of the time. Those women never got over what happened to them.” I’m distraught just thinking about it. “I can’t imagine a world where I have to live with all of that.”

  “Those women don’t have Chris,” she replies. “Mia, I know he can do it.” She takes my hands and squeezes. “Dad says Chris is the best attorney in the world. If anyone can help you, it’s him.”

  I take a deep breath. “I really hope so. Ari, when I went to the DA, Daddy disowned me. He tried to get me to leave and said no daughter of his would do this to him. I told him no.”

  Her face falls. She hugs me. I hug her back, hard. There are so many levels of pain I feel. I’m learning to manage them, but they don’t go away.

  “I am so, so proud of you! You deserve a better father anyway.” Ari pulls away and beams.

  “Can’t exactly choose,” I say darkly.

  “You can choose to get rid of a bad one, and yours is terrible.”

  The pain of my father’s rejection has stayed fresh since the confrontation. He hasn’t spoken to me since then, and I’ve only seen him once, leaving the house for work. Any messages he has for me come through Shea or Chris.

  Why do I still want him to love me, when I know he isn’t capable of it? Why does it still hurt?

  “I think you should call a ride for us,” Ari says.

  “You said they’d follow Fabio’s car.”