Beautiful Lies (Breaking Belles #2) - Alta Hensley Page 0,39
me. His glazed eyes focused on my face. “Tell me how much money you want. I’ll write you a check right now so we can get out of this place and never look back.”
Oh, Sully. I shook my head. “What about you? What about what you’re here for?”
“Fuck it all. There are some things not worth it. And this is too much. It’s fucking sick!”
I squeezed his hands in hope I could somehow lend some of my sanity to his out-of-control rage. “They can’t break me.”
That I knew. Not when so much was at stake. I’d never let them. “And they can’t break you.” At least I prayed not.
But no, looking at his fury, his iron rage and will—I knew they’d never break him. Who could stand against Sullivan VanDoren and win?
He yanked his hands out of mine. “I just said I would pay you whatever it is you want. I have the fucking money!”
“It’s not about the money,” I countered, hoping that the Elders were not going to deem this Trial a failure because we were taking too long to act.
“Sully,” I lowered my voice, hoping he would hear my urgency. “We need to do this.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he shouted. I wasn’t sure if he was saying the words to me, to the Elders, or to all of us. Probably all of us. Or maybe he was shouting it at God. “Branding, Portia! They’re trying to fucking brand you!”
I needed to act quickly. There was no way I was going to be able to convince Sully that we should do this, and the more we stood there, the more at risk we were of the Elders pounding their stupid canes and announcing the Trial was over.
So, I did what was necessary. Just like I always did.
I was not my fucking father.
I stayed. I did the difficult thing. I made the difficult choices because I knew what love was.
I walked over to the cooling red-tipped poker on the ground and picked it up. I handed it to the Elder who had first held it.
“Go ahead and do it,” I said, extending my wrist. “Get it over with.” My voice only trembled the slightest bit.
Sully marched to me and took my arm, pulling me toward him with more aggression than I had ever seen before. “I said no!”
I all but bared my teeth at him. “Well, good thing I wasn’t asking for permission.”
“So, you have no limits to get your payday? Is that what you’re telling me?” Sully’s jaw clenched, palms fisted, and his body tightened so much it appeared his spine might snap.
“I’m telling you I refuse to be broken!” I yelled.
His rage had finally rubbed off on me, and if I didn’t focus my attention on the branding, I would completely lose my shit on him.
The Elder had already reapplied the poker to the fire and had pulled it out and handed it to Sully who only stared at it. The tip glowed a golden, burning yellow-orange again. Smoke burned my eyes from it and the air shimmered near the heat of the tip.
“Sully…” the Elder began. “It is your responsibility to brand the belle in order to complete the Trial.”
Sully darted his eyes to me, to the hot branding iron, and then back at me. “Is this what you want? Really want?”
“Do it,” I snapped, as I extended my wrist.
“On the hip,” the Elder said, pointing to my hip bone.
I took a moment to process the new location on my body that would permanently be scarred, but actually preferred it over my wrist. So, with that, I lifted up my short dress, and glared at Sully, willing him not to chicken out.
“They won’t win, Sully. Don’t let them,” I said in a low voice.
“So fucking sick.” He glared at all the Elders in the room. “You guys are sick bastards. How do you sleep at night?”
He then took the brand from the Elder and brought it close to my hip.
He considered doing it. I saw that.
And then I saw the revulsion shudder his entire body and what a violation of his soul it would be to press it against my skin, to harm me like that.
Sully could only be pushed so far. He was a bull of a man. And they’d just reached his breaking point. He’d burn down this entire manor before he ever applied that brand to my skin.
So, I reached forward, wrapped my hands around the poker high enough where I prayed it