Ravage (Civil Corruption Book 4)

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Ravage (Civil Corruption Book 4) Page 7

by Jessica Prince


  Will looked at me with clear skepticism. “All right, baby girl. But you change your mind, just gimme the word.”

  “Oh?” I giggled, suddenly feeling lighter, all because of him. “And what word is that, exactly?”

  He looked up and to the side, giving that some thought. “You just look at me, whisper, ‘Thundercats are go,’ and I’ll have a car fueled up and ready to take us to Mexico.”

  I threw my head back and laughed my first real laugh of the day. “God, I love you,” I said once I got control of myself. “You’re the best big brother in the whole wide world.”

  His smile was absolutely beautiful as he came closer. “I love you too, baby girl. Always and forever.”

  I repeated the saying we’d been telling each other for as long as I could remember. “Always and forever, Will.”

  He hooked my arm through his and turned me to the door. “You ready for this?”

  Pulling in a deep breath, I stared at the door and steeled my spine. “Ready. Let’s get me married.”

  Mace

  Will: Wish you guys were here. Isn’t she a goddamn vision?

  I reread the text that came in from Will only minutes ago before staring at the picture of Lyla.

  Christ, my heart nearly busted through my chest at the sight of her. I hadn’t thought it possible that she could get any more beautiful, but standing in that white dress, all that gorgeous blonde hair curled into sleek, shining waves… It was almost too much to bear, like staring into the sun.

  Will was right. She was a goddamn vision. A vision that was going to be walking down the aisle to another man at any moment. He was going to get all that beauty and light. My Goldie was going to pledge herself to someone else for the rest of her life. All that was her was supposed to be mine, but now it was lost to me.

  I couldn’t stand the thought of it, so I decided to do what I’d been doing for the past two years to cope with the pain.

  Sucking back the remaining dregs in my bottle of Jack, I looked at the girl who’d been pressed against me for the past half hour in some random club in Brazil and gave her a smile I knew worked wonders on the opposite sex. I didn’t bother saying a word as I took her hand and led her out of the VIP area the guys and I had been holed up in. I didn’t need to; she knew what was in store, and she was all for it.

  I was going to bury my cock is some random bitch’s pussy. I was going to close my eyes and pretend it was my Goldie I was sinking into, that the woman beneath me didn’t fall short of what I really wanted. And when that didn’t work—which it wouldn’t, experience having taught me that much—I was going to drink myself into oblivion.

  Chapter Ten

  Lyla

  Three years later

  “Please talk to me,” Ava pleaded through the phone I had resting between my shoulder and ear. “I’m worried about you, babe. You haven’t been yourself lately.”

  She had every right to worry. She wasn’t wrong, I hadn’t been acting like myself. That was mainly because I was no longer the person I once was. Daniel had seen to that.

  In the three years we’d been married, he’d managed to beat me down—verbally and mentally—so badly that I barely recognized the woman staring back at me in the mirror most mornings. I was a shell of my former self, a sad, pathetic girl walking through each day like a ghost. I went through the motions because it was expected of me, but that was all I had the energy to do. I closed myself off from friends and family because I didn’t want to deal with the hassle of their questions and concerns. And I hated myself for how weak I’d become.

  Daniel never hit me, I’d give him that. But how he treated me was just as bad, if not worse in some ways.

  What started as behavior I could easily make excuses for quickly turned into something unimaginable. And it all began with the fall of the illustrious Logan dynasty.

  I’d been right in thinking that whatever was happening was so much worse than I’d imagined. Turned out, his father didn’t just make a few bad investments—he’d lost his clients hundreds of thousands. There were people who lost their pensions, their retirement, the entirety of their savings. He’d left countless people on the brink of destitution, himself and his family included. He managed to get out of serious jail time only by the skin of his teeth, but the government had seized everything. Homes, cars, bank accounts—you name it, it was gone. The board overthrew the elder Logan and quickly fired everyone with his namesake. That meant Golden Boy Daniel had fallen from grace right along with dear old dad.

  He and his family had become pariahs, and because of that, he hadn’t been able to secure a job for the past two years. Not that he put much of an effort into it. Despite his father being—in my mind—a disgusting, heartless criminal, he refused to let his family name hold any of the responsibility. As far as he was concerned, he was the victim. The world was out to get him, and every day was a pity party. We were drowning in debt thanks to Daniel’s inability to accept his new social standing. He wanted to continue living the caviar lifestyle while we were barely scraping by on a canned tuna budget.

  I was our sole source of income, and on my meager salary as an administrative assistant, I couldn’t keep my husband in the flash and pomp he felt he deserved. According to him, it was my fault.

  My fault for getting a liberal arts degree instead of something that would be more appealing in the workforce.

  My fault for not trying harder to get a promotion within my company.

  My fault for not getting home in time to make him dinner and do the laundry, even though it was because I’d been working overtime to make some extra money.

  Everything was my fault, my fault, my fault.

  I didn’t keep a clean enough house.

  I didn’t know how to iron his slacks properly.

  I didn’t know how to cook for shit.

  I was stupid, worthless, a waste of oxygen. If it wasn’t my intellect or my homemaking skills he was insulting, he was jumping down my throat about stuff that didn’t even exist. He had himself convinced that I was cheating, that I was still in love with Mace, even though I’d given him no reason whatsoever to think either of those things was true. But according to him I was, and that was why I still listened to his music or watched him on TV. Never mind that it happened only if the radio station I was already listening to played one of their songs unbeknownst to me, or the TV was already tuned to the channel where the band popped up. In his mind, it wasn’t a coincidence.

  If it wasn’t Mace it was any man I offered a polite smile or nod to.

  And I’d taken every single blow he landed until it began to seep into my skin and poison me. I hadn’t said a single word to anyone, always putting on a mask for my friends and loved ones on the rare occasions I saw them so they wouldn’t know just how badly I fucked up. I’d let him become my world. My twisted, sickening world. The knowledge that I’d settled for less than best, less than I deserved, sat in my stomach until it soured and spoiled, leaving me in a constant state of nausea.

  But I was done. Done being his punching bag, his doormat. I was just done.

  “I’ll be okay, Ava,” I finally answered after a long, thoughtful pause. And I would. Because I was getting the fuck out. He could keep the house and all the furniture. Hell, I didn’t even care if the debt he’d laid at my feet followed me around for the rest of my life. I’d gladly take that over being in a poisonous, loveless marriage for one more second.

  “You wanna tell me what’s going on? Because I’m not sure I believe you, Ly. Not with how you’ve been acting lately.”

  I felt like the very worst kind of person. I couldn’t believe I’d allowed Daniel to destroy my self-esteem so thoroughly. “I know I’ve been a pretty shitty friend, and I’m so sorry for that. I swear I’ll make it up to you. I made a huge mistake, but I’m fixing it, I promise.”

  “And this mistake… it wouldn’t have anything to do with Daniel, would it?”

  At her question, I stopped what I was doing—which just so
happened to be packing up my shit in order to get the hell out of there—and froze solid. “What makes you ask that?”

  “Because I’m not naive,” she replied sharply. “It isn’t lost on me that all the changes in you started after you got married, and it’s also not lost on me that you’re not the only one who’s changed. After all that shit went down with his parents, he turned into a raging asshole.”

  “If you knew, then why didn’t you say anything?” I squeaked, stunned that I’d been so transparent in spite of all the effort I put into hiding the ugly truth.

  “Because you always tried so hard to pretend everything was okay. It was obvious you didn’t want us to know. Then you started spending less time with everyone, until it eventually stopped altogether. I have to tell you, honey, I’ve been worried sick for a long time now.”

  “Please don’t worry,” I whispered in a voice thick with tears. “I’m fixing it. I’m….” I paused long enough to swallow the lump of emotion clogging my throat. “I’m leaving. I was actually packing when you called. I’ve had enough, and I’m getting out.”

  She sounded hesitantly optimistic when she asked, “And you’re okay with that?”

  “I’m more okay than I’ve been in a very long time now that I’ve made a decision.”

  “Good.” She let out a breath of stark relief. “If you’re okay, then I’m okay. And I’ll have your back no matter what, yeah? You need me for anything at all, night or day, you just call me. Got it?”

  “I got it,” I answered, smiling my first real smile all day. “But I have to go. Dan went to his favorite watering hole to get lit, and I want to be out of here before he gets back.”

  “Want me to come over and help you pack?”

  I had the best friends in the world, and I was so damn grateful that I hadn’t lost them by letting my weakness and stupidity get the best of me. “I got it. But I’ll call you once I’m on the road, deal?”

  “Sounds good. Love you, babe.”

  “Love you back.”

  With that, I disconnected the call and went back to packing. I’d gotten most of my clothes and shoes and was working on my toiletries when I heard the front door open and close with Daniel’s arrival. My belly flipped uncomfortably, and my heart rate increased at the knowledge of being caught, but I didn’t let it stop me. I could handle one last fight if it meant being done with all his bullshit when it was over.

  I wasn’t discouraged from my mission as his fumbled footsteps echoed down the hall toward our bedroom.

  Stuffing the last of my makeup and hair products into the bag, I moved back to the bedroom and tossed it in one of my two stuffed-to-the-max suitcases. I was just zipping up the last one when his large frame cast a shadow over me from the doorway.

  I had to hand it to him—for a worthless drunk, he’d managed to keep fit over the years thanks to the gym account he refused to cancel no matter how many times I asked him to. If he wasn’t at the bar drinking, or forming a permanent indent in the chair in our living room, he was at the gym. He claimed working out relieved stress. I thought he was full of shit and actually went there scouting for a mistress, but damn if I cared.

  “The fuck you think you’re doin’?” he slurred. I could smell the bourbon leaching from his pores from five feet away, and it did nothing but infuriate me more.

  “What’s it look like I’m doing?” I returned in a snarky tone. “I’m packing. I’m done with this shit.”

  “You’re leaving me?” he snapped bitterly, then repeated, “You’re leaving me? Is that a fuckin’ joke?”

  Yanking the zipper shut the rest of the way, I spun around to face him and crossed my arms. “No, it’s not a joke. And yes, I’m leaving you. This marriage is toxic, and I’m done, Daniel.”

  He pushed off the doorjamb and lurched closer, teetering dangerously in his drunken state. “You stupid bitch. You’re goin’ to him, aren’t you?”

  “To who?” I shouted, throwing my arms wide. “Who the hell is it you think I’m going to? Mace? For Christ’s sake, Dan! I told you there’s nothing happening. I haven’t talked to him in five fucking years. Get over it!”

  “Get over it? Get over it? You fuckin’ slut! I know you’re cheating, and now you think you can leave me? You aren’t leaving me, bitch. No goddamn way in hell.”

  That churning in my gut that told me something was wrong grew more intense. I went from angry to frightened the louder and brasher he got. Instinct told me I needed to get the hell out of there before the situation escalated more than it already had.

  “This conversation’s done.” I grabbed the handles of the suitcases and pulled them off the bed. “I’m leaving and there’s nothing you can do to stop me,” I informed him once I reached the door. “Now get out of the way.”

  A sinister smile spread across his face, making my blood run cold. “Nothing I can do, huh? We’ll see about that.”

  With that, his arm swung wide, his palm connecting with my cheek so hard I saw stars. Dropping my bags, the impact of the hit caused me to stumble sideways, my arms coming up to protect my face from another strike.

  “You’re really stupid enough to think I won’t stop you?” He landed a punch to my stomach so hard all the air expelled from my lungs. I hit my knees with a jarring thud, the course fibers of carpet burning across the skin of my palms as I struggled to pull in a breath. “That I can’t make you stay?” he asked, kicking me in the ribs.

  I struggled to pull myself across the floor but I wasn’t quick enough. Tangling his hand in my hair, he yanked me up and punched me right in the face. It felt like a firework exploded in my nose as blood poured down my throat, and the sickening crunch and searing pain alerted me to the fact that he’d just broken it.

  “Please,” I cried and whimpered, holding up a hand to ward him off.

  “Oh, now you’re gonna beg?” He let out a bone-chilling laugh as he threw me to the floor, finally releasing my hair. “You dumb, worthless cow. Don’t know why the fuck I spent so much time on you. That dry, boring pussy wasn’t worth the trouble.”

  I don’t know how long I laid there crying out as he tormented me with his words and brutal strength, but with each blow the edges of my vision grew darker and darker.

  Eventually the hits and kicks stopped. I thought he might’ve turned to leave, but I’d been wrong. He wasn’t quite finished yet. Lifting his leg, he brought his loafer-clad foot down on my hand, and I screamed at the top of my lungs as the bones broke and snapped. Then everything went black as the pain became too much for me to bear.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lyla

  When I came to, Daniel was gone, more than likely back at the bar tying another one on, and I took that as my opportunity to escape. The fact that I made it to my brother’s house, my vision blurred from the broken nose and intense pain, one hand curled and useless, was nothing less than a miracle.

  His front door flew open and he came running out when I pulled into his driveway at a fast clip, taking out his mailbox in my attempt to park.

  “Jesus Christ!” he yelled as he rushed to the driver side. “What the fuck, Ly. Are you all ri—” His words cut off when he got my door open and caught his first glimpse of my bruised and bloodied face. “What. The. Fuck!” he bellowed, pulling me from the car.

  I let out a yelp as fire shot through my ribs. “Stop, stop, stop,” I cried. “My ribs. I think he broke my ribs.”

  “Who broke your ribs, sweetheart? Talk to me. What happened?”

  “Dan,” I managed to get out as the pain began to overwhelm me and my vision started to fade again. “Dan. Hospital.” Then I blacked out again.

  My hospital room had finally cleared out, leaving me alone with Will for some much-needed peace and quiet after hours of being poked, prodded, and questioned. I regained consciousness on the car ride to the hospital, but had been in too much pain to fully disclose what had happened.

  When Will pulled up to the emergency room, they’d immediately taken me back to be
seen but had barred my brother from going with me. At first I’d been confused and upset, as had he, which he made obvious by raging and fighting with the security guards in the waiting room for keeping him from his sister.

  Turned out they were under the mistaken impression that he’d been the one to do this to me, and they wanted me alone so they could ask questions they feared I wouldn’t be honest about with him in the room. I quickly explained, placing the blame on the person who deserved it.

  After telling the nurses that my soon-to-be ex-husband had been the one to do a number on me, they quickly allowed Will back. Shortly after, the cops arrived, having been called by the hospital, and I went through the entire horrific story for them all to hear. Having to admit my failure in front of my big brother, the one who’d protected me all my life, was the most humiliating ordeal I’d ever been through, and I could barely get through it all without bursting into tears.

  There had been several times, when I started to silently cry, that he’d gotten so angry for me that the police officers had to warn him to keep calm or they’d have to remove him again. Of course, he hadn’t liked that one bit, so he quickly shut his mouth, but I could still feel the rage radiating off him from across the room.

  When it was all finally over and done with, and my copious injuries—five cracked ribs, a broken nose, a broken hand, a concussion, and multiple lacerations and bruises—were documented and photographed, I was left alone.

 

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