that we’re burdens to our loved ones.
But Aria has told me I’m not, time and reassuring time again.
Which was why I ignored my mother’s cruel voice as I picked up the pouch and went to the garbage can. Putting my foot on the pedal to open the lid, I stared down for long seconds that stretched into longer minutes. Then I let the lid close with a clatter before taking the pouch and burying it deep in my closet.
Just in case I needed the reminder that I was in control.
My mother cackled in my head, her words slurred and cutting. Wah, wah, wah. Poor, beautiful Briar, always needing to be the center of attention.
Just in case I was brave enough to finally get it over with.
Alexander
DRIVING SLOWLY, I followed Briar as she ran home, making sure she arrived safely.
Since I’d met her at the mental health clinic, I assumed she had demons. I just had no clue what I’d said to set them off.
But I would learn.
Watching her go inside, I drove home to plan my next step.
Because there would be one.
There was no other option.
Chapter Twelve
Escape
Him
I USED TO wonder if I was a psychopath.
Or maybe sociopath.
But I had enough experience with psychos to know I wasn’t like them. If there’d still been a doubt in my mind, my feelings for Briar made it clear I wasn’t cold and unemotional. I cared about her. I worried about her. I needed her to be happy.
I was obsessed with it.
And her.
I switched my focus to the night ahead as I drove to the rundown, by-the-hour motel. One with no security, no cameras, and no witnesses.
My favorite kind.
Parking around the corner, I waited.
I watched.
And, thanks to the lingering thoughts of my broken girl, I grew hard.
I’m a sick fuck.
When it was time, I got out and made the casual stroll to the last door of the motel strip. I positioned myself out of view of the peephole and used a gloved fist to softly knock.
It was overkill. He wouldn’t have the patience to pause to check.
I was right.
The door immediately flung open to reveal a man in his forties. Even stripped out of his suit jacket, his showy clothes screamed wealth. Old money and too much power wafted from him.
“Who’re you?” he asked, sweat beading on his forehead as his eager eyes darted around.
“Don’t you recognize me? I’m your date.”
It wasn’t a lie. I may not have been the girl he was expecting, but I was the one who’d arranged this little tête-à-tête.
His face paled. When he scanned the area again, I knew it wasn’t in search of the pretty young thing he was waiting for. He was looking for the flashing lights of a cop car or the rolling camera of a gotcha news special. Seeing neither, relief replaced his fear. “You’ve got the wrong room.”
When he tried to slam the door in my face, I blocked it with my foot. “Rude. What’s the problem?” I shoved the cheap wood, knocking him off balance as I let myself in. “Is it because I’m a man? Or because I’m twenty years older than you expected?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied, but the renewed panic in his tone said differently.
“Big, powerful Mr. Danielson doesn’t know something?”
The remaining color drained from his face as stark terror slackened his features.
“Isn’t that what you like little Madison to tell you? That you’re so strong. So powerful. That she needs you because everyone else in your life knows you’re worthless.”
“Shut up! I’m calling the cops.”
“Good idea, I’ll wait here. They’d probably love to talk to,” I lifted my fingers to count off each name, “Madison. Elli. Sofia. Nichole.”
Running a shaking hand down his face, he inhaled deeply. “What do you want?”
“I don’t want anything. I’m here for them.”
“They want money?”
I studied him, trying to understand his thought process. Since I wasn’t a pathetic piece of shit, I couldn’t shove my head that far up my own ass to see things from his point of view.
“You think they can put cash on their wounds and it’ll heal them?” I asked. “That it’ll restore the innocence you stole?”
“Enough money can do anything.”
That was true and exactly how men like Alfred Danielson came to be. Rich, bored men who needed bigger thrills to feel something. They thought the rules didn’t apply to them.
And they were right.
Wealth allowed them to simply buy and sell their way out of the consequences of their actions.
“I’m not admitting a single thing.” He