by Lana Grayson
“She left about six hours ago.”
“Six hours?” It was like she tried to enrage my father.
Max frowned. “Where’d she go?”
My brother pointed to the cuff. “I wasn’t at liberty to follow her. She stole my car and left.”
“She stole your car?” Max’s voice rose.
Reed huffed. “She sure as hell wasn’t taking my bike. Don’t worry, she said she was coming back.”
“Why in the hell would she come back?” Max paced the room, but he made no effort to unlock our brother. “Where’s her dog?”
“She left him.”
That reassured me. “She wouldn’t leave Hamlet with our father.”
Max swore. “What the hell happened?”
“Christ. We were just messing around. I wasn’t paying attention. She cuffed me and ran.”
I didn’t want to consider the possibilities, but my mind was nothing if not a bastion for jealousy. “Why did you have handcuffs?”
Reed had the decency to look shamed. “She said she thought’d it be fun. Then she pretended to freak out with them on. I took them off because she was scared. Now I know she’s one hell of a liar. She blew me, cuffed me, and left.”
My spine stiffened.
“She blew you?”
Reed’s eyes jaded with impatience. “Yeah, cause that is the pressing issue at the moment.”
“You don’t make a lot of babies that way,” Max said.
“Fuck you.”
“Now you’re getting it!”
“Enough.” I checked my watch. “Max, let him up. We have to meet our father downstairs.”
“He’s pissed,” Reed said.
Max unhooked the cuffs. “No shit.”
“He’ll hurt Sarah.”
“No.” Max didn’t look at me. “He’ll make me do it. And it won’t end well.”
I cursed the horrific thoughts that stained my mind. “If he doesn’t decide to kill her first.”
My brothers silenced. I wasn’t giving up yet.
“We have to find her before he does.”
“Why?” Reed rubbed his wrist. “Let her go. Do you think she’s stupid enough to come back?”
Stupid? No. Naive? Yes.
If Sarah wanted to hide her meeting with Roman Wescott, if she wanted to ensure the amendment to her trust stayed secret, she didn’t have a choice. She had to return. My father’s suspicions damned her each minute she strayed from the estate. Once she was returned and safe, we could lie. Make up a story about her fleeing in terror instead of an attempt to deliberately undermine the Bennett Corporation and institute a hostile takeover.
Sarah’s one salvation was the fate she denied. My father wouldn’t have cause to kill her if he believed breeding her was still the viable option. Creating her heir was still his first priority, murder his contingency.
Unless she forced his hand.
Unless she loaded the gun and stood before the barrel.
But Sarah didn’t trust that I would prevent him from pulling the trigger.
And she was wrong. I wished she realized how wrong she was.
I avoided violence, but only because I played our options, calculated the risks, and worked to secure empires instead of vendettas. But if the time came for blood to spill?
I’d slit my father’s throat before I let him take her perfection from me.
Reed leapt from the bed. Max tossed him his pants, but he darted first to his liquor cabinet to swig from a bottle of whiskey. He took the bottle with him to the bathroom and returned a minute later, a quarter of the amber liquid gone. He rubbed a washcloth over the abrasion to his wrist.
“Gonna be worse than that downstairs,” Max warned.
Reed tossed the bloody cloth in the hamper. “I’m a grown fucking man, not some little blonde troublemaker. What’s Dad gonna do to me?”
“Think long and hard about it. If you aren’t pissing your pants, you don’t know Dad.”
“Fuck this.” Reed downed another mouthful of whiskey and grunted against the sting. “I’ve had enough of this goddamned family. I’m done. I’m not dealing with this bullshit anymore.”
“You oppose him, and he’ll punish Sarah for your insolence,” I said.
Reed’s voice hollowed. “Yeah, well, she made her choice, didn’t she?”
The harshness shocked me. Reed was always so eager to help and appease Sarah. Whatever happened between them pissed my brother off. More than I expected.
Did she realize? She put herself in danger, but no handcuffs would ever convince my father Reed was helpless in her escape.
Sarah underestimated my father.
And this time, she wouldn’t be the only one punished for her disobedience.
Reed tugged a shirt over his head and headed downstairs without a word, without a plan, and without a hope to survive what awaited him. Max and I followed as he kicked in the doors to our father’s office to confront the monster.
He never learned.
His punch slammed Reed’s jaw before my brother prepared himself for the strike. He slumped, but my father pointed to us.
“Hold him up,” he said. “Both of you.”
This wasn’t a good sign.
I hoped my father would display some restraint. He hadn’t harmed Sarah in weeks, except for the ropes which tore her skin at the gala and an incident in the pool she refused to reveal.
My father attempted to break Sarah’s mind instead of her body, to spare her any accidents if she had been impregnated.
But he had no reason to protect Reed.
My father never offered mercy to those who opposed him.
Max and I steadied Reed on his feet. My father rubbed the ache from his knuckles and sneered.
“You helped her.”
Reed spat blood. “How the hell would I do that? She cuffed me to the damn bed.”
“And why would you let that happen?”
I tasted the same challenge as Reed, but, unlike my brother, I had sense to not indulge it.
“We did it enough to her. Thought I’d see if it was as fun from the other side.” He held my father’s stare. “It’s not.”
I braced for the bastard to strike. So did Reed. The attack never came.
“You were careless, boy,” he said. “You let her escape. Who knows where she might have gone or who the little cunt has spoken to.”
“Good question,” Reed said. “Maybe she went to the Board of Directors?”
Son of a bitch.
Reed and Sarah obeyed none of my orders and consistently made life more dangerous for us all. Max knew not to react. Reed scraped the last bit of luck he had.
“You told the fucking board we held her captive, and you’re worried about Sarah getting loose?” His voice rose. “Half of the motherfucking board sympathized with the Atwoods. They sold their stock. Why would you risk any of them knowing that we’re trying to breed her?”
My father’s rage would shatter bone. “They don’t care about that girl! No one gives a damn about Sarah Atwood—it’s her fucking womb that’s worth billions. Christ, if it were any other organ I’d chop her open and rip out her entrails myself.”
I didn’t doubt it. His hand slammed against the desk.
“We need her womb. We need the baby you have yet to conceive! That little bitch is one fertility treatment from ovulating, and you let her escape!”
And there it was. The key to saving her.
Sarah was only one injection away from ovulation. For all my father knew, she escaped because she was afraid of conceiving.
He’d believe it. He lived to watch her cower in fear.
“Nicholas, you will find her and bring her to the estate.”
Eagerly. “Of course.”
“We’ve given that bitch free rein of this house. It ends now. She is here for one purpose and one purpose only, and she has yet to fulfill her responsibilities.” My father dared to hold my gaze. “I hoped my sons understood.”
Unfortunately, I knew exactly w
hat he expected. I was tempted by the same greed and lust for power. I inherited more than just a company, an estate, and an empire from the monster.
The same evil in him lurked in me.
I denied that calling, but the darkness crept in my soul and ached to possess Sarah Atwood in complete and utter dominance.
But I wouldn’t become my father.
The day I surrendered to that beast was the day I damned Sarah to a true hell.
“You will fuck her,” he said. “Each of you. Again and again until we are certain the fertility drugs were not a waste of my time. I don’t care if she cries or begs or screams.” He considered it with a leering amusement. “In fact, I’d prefer it.”
“Holy Christ, you’re fucked up.”
Reed had too much time to think while bound within his room, and his thoughts were not ones he should have voiced in my father’s presence.
“What happens if we do get her pregnant?” He struggled forward, but Max and I prevented him from making a worse mistake. “What happens when her step-brothers knock her up? You expect her to bargain the company for her baby?”
“The heir is the only matter of consequence to us.”
“It’s not a matter or consequence! It’s a child.”
“Reed, I no longer believe you have our family’s best interests at heart.”
The crop cracked over my shoulders.
I didn’t groan. It made Dad proud, but it wasn’t enough to dull the pain.
Across the room, Max stuck out his tongue. This was his stupid fault. He was the one who snuck into Dad’s office. And it was his idea to use Reed to scout. The baby couldn’t do anything right.
Three strikes of the crop and Max had cried.
I lasted five.
“Bring the boy over,” Dad said.
“Darius, no.” Mom held Reed close. “He’s only four.”
“He’s old enough to learn.” The crop pointed at me. “And Nicholas is old enough to realize his brothers’ behavior is his responsibility.”
Dad took off Reed’s shirt. He faced my little brother toward me.
Reed thought it was a game. I didn’t warn him.
Dad forced me to watch.
“Next time, Nicholas, maybe you’ll remember to keep him out of trouble.”
The crop lashed down.
Reed would never stop screaming.
My father taught us to prioritize two things in life—family and power.
Our greatest sin wasn’t kidnapping, torturing, and breeding Sarah Atwood.
It was dishonoring the family.
Disobeying my father.
Placing another’s needs before the success, wealth, and bond of our name.
“This Atwood whore has confused you, Reed,” my father said. “You’ve forgotten who you are. What you represent.”
“We’re wasting time.” I drew his stare. “Sarah escaped hours ago. Let’s go and find her before she gets farther away. Who knows where she is now.”
My father folded his arms. “What did she tell you, Reed?”
“Nothing.”
“You were with her last.”
“Yeah, we don’t do a lot of talking when I’m…” He took a breath. “She’s not all that good for conversation.”
A lie. My father chuckled.
“She’s not meant for conversation. She’s meant for fucking.”
“Haven’t I done that?”
“Have you?” My father’s tone shifted—wild and accusatory. “You are Reed Bennett. My son. You were born to represent me.”
“Yeah, I get that.”
“I made you to empower this family. Our wealth, our company, it means nothing if the world doesn’t know our name and understand we are meant to own them.”
Reed shrugged. “What if I want something different?”
My father turned, stalking to his desk. “That right is not yours. Not if you wish to wield the Bennett name. Not if you expect your billions, your power.”
“All our money didn’t prevent Mark Atwood from stealing our investors. Our power did nothing to keep Sarah Atwood under control.”
Fuel on the fire. I wished my father’s punch had knocked Reed out.
“Our name didn’t do shit for us,” Reed said. “And the only Bennett people will ever remember is the one Sarah is forced to conceive. I take no pride in that.”
“Our name is the only reason you and Max are standing here today.”
My father’s sneer was meant to insult them.
It worked.
“When that car crashed, do you think the doctors would have worked as hard to scrape your skin from the asphalt if your name wasn’t Bennett?” He pointed to Reed’s face. “No other family would have paid hundreds of thousands of dollars to sew your face back on your skull. They would have let you live, scarred and ugly, without any hope of a decent life.”
“It wasn’t my injury that scarred this family,” Reed said. “The only reason you tortured me with those surgeries was so you looked good. So you wouldn’t be ashamed of your deformed youngest son and his crippled brother.”
“Reed, enough.” I didn’t trust the vein in my father’s forehead, the one even Sarah Atwood hadn’t managed to throb. “This isn’t helping us find the girl. We’ll deal with this later.”
My father stilled.
“No. We’ll deal with this now. Bring your brother to me.”
Neither Max nor I moved. My father pulled a knife from the desk. Reed swore.
“What are you doing?” I threaded my voice with weary impatience, not the gut-punching fear that summoned the adrenaline. “I’ll take the helicopter to Cherrywood Valley and see if she’s at the farm. Max and Reed can search San Jose on their motorcycles. We’ll find her—”
“We don’t have to search.” My father pointed the blade at Reed. “He knows where she is.”
“Why the fuck would I know?” Reed asked.
“Because you’re friends with the little whore. You helped her. Comforted her. Your baby sister told you where she was going, and now you’ll tell me.”
Reed stayed silent.
My brother knew.
Sarah told him about the board, about Wescott, about everything. My father was right. And if Reed spoke even a word of it, Sarah would die.
Reed played dumb. “I have no idea. She said she wanted to see her mom. Check with Bethany.”
My father didn’t believe the lie. He called to me.
“Bring him here.”
I delayed as long as I could, staring at the knife in his hand. “Let’s just find Sarah—”
“I said bring him here.”
No. Even his cruelty had limits. I would not allow my father to harm my brother.
“If Reed sees no benefit to being a Bennett, if this family is so scarred, then why hide what nature intended?” My father’s shrugged. “Or, what that little whore’s father intended.”
“Jesus, Dad,” Max said. “What are you going to do?”
The knife flashed. Reed said nothing.
“He either tells me where the Atwood bitch has gone, or I’ll earn back the thousands of dollars I wasted giving him a chance to honor the Bennett name.”
He was insane. He threatened to cut Reed’s face, to etch away the years of plastic surgery and reveal the ugly scars underneath.
He would maim his own son.
And, in his madness, he expected us to help him do it.
“Where is she, Reed?” My father asked. “Last chance.”
I had to find another way, some possible chance to spare my brother pain and save Sarah. I pushed him behind me.
But my brother fought my arm. He snarled at me, his words as certain as a slam to the gut.
“She made her choice, Nick.”
The madness would take us all.
Reed thought he was protecting her.
He wouldn’t tell my father, even if the consequences would forever scar him.
I couldn’t let this happen, but time slivered aga
inst the edge of my father’s knife. I had no options. I couldn’t spare my brother his pain and save the life of the woman I loved.
But Reed would do it for me.
“Sarah left.” Reed shrugged. “I don’t know where she went.”
My father tapped the blade in his hand. “I’m disappointed in you, son.”
“Aren’t you always?”
“Hold him down.”
Max refused. I forced Reed forward instead. He swore, though the word aimed for both me and our bastard of a father.
I deserved more than his profanity.
I deserved more than my brother’s ire, Sarah’s distrust, and my father’s gratitude for pinning my youngest brother to the desk as the knife raised.
I deserved the tearing slice to my face.
Reed screamed.
I’d remember that sound too.
And I’d ensure it was the last pain my father ever caused.
“Mom!”
The front door slammed behind me. I let Reed’s car idle in the driveway, practically steaming from the three hour speed run from San Jose.
I made a two-hundred and fifty mile detour before my meeting with Roman Wescott.
I hoped it’d be worth it.
“Mom?” I sprinted through the halls. “It’s Sprout! Where are you?”
The patio door opened. Mom brushed the dirt from her hands and dropped the garden trowel in the coffee can tucked in the corner.
“Sarah, no yelling in the house. I heard you all the way in my flower garden.”
Her voice slurred, and an orange pill bottle jingled out of her pocket, but I didn’t care. I wrapped her in our first honest hug in three months, our first real embrace since Josiah and Mike’s deaths.
It was our first touch which didn’t mourn a lost husband, father, or hope.
“Sarah, what’s gotten into you? Is Darius here?”
I shuddered. “No. Look, Mom. I can’t stay long.”
“You haven’t stayed long in months.”
Her disappointment chided me. A sharp pang of sorrow struck me to the core.
“Mom…I haven’t been living here.”
“Right, right.” She waved a hand. “So kind of Darius to offer to take you in.”
Kind was not the word I would have picked, but it wasn’t the time to argue. I herded Mom into the master bedroom and opened the closet. The clothes piled high, but she had always bribed a farmhand to help her fold the laundry.