The question is superfluous. I already know. I’m as shattered inside as the glass at my feet realizing that the world will know what happened to me. What was done to me.
That August knows.
“It’s pictures of you,” he says, swallowing so hard I hear it over the phone. I hear the anguish in his voice before he says the words. “Beaten, Iris. He beat you?”
He beat me? No, I beathimat his own game. I escaped. I got away.
I survived!
But all anyone will see is a victim. Not Iris, but the black-eyed Susan in those pictures with her lips split open and her jaw swollen twice its normal size. All they’ll say ishe beat you? You let him beat you? You stayed?
Weak.
Fool.
And they’ll have no idea who I am.
“August, I wanted to tell you.” I say, pressing down my shame. “I signed an NDA.”
“You could have told me, though. Iris, you should have—”
“Excuse me, but I don’t need a lecture from anyone on what I should have done.” I fight back tears of hurt and anger. Not at him. At Caleb, and whomever leaked this, and at the whole world. “My situation was complicated beyond what you can imagine. If I had just left Caleb, he would have gotten joint custody of Sarai, and that was never going to happen. I would die to prevent that from happening.”
I almost did.
“We’ll talk about that later,” he says. “I’m not mad at you. God, do you think I’m mad atyou? For not telling me? No, baby. I’m mad at myself for not seeing it. For not . . . I’m furious at him for . . .” He pulls in a fortifying breath and goes on more calmly. “Right now, we need to get you out of there. Avery isn’t the only one who got this file. Every major news station has it.”
My knees buckle as the scope of my humiliation comes into full view. I grip the counter and raise a shaking hand to my mouth. “What? Oh, God.”
“A car’s on the way to my place,” August says, and I hear the deliberate calm of his voice trying to soothe me. “Grab a few things for you and Sarai, and the car will take you to the airport. Wherever you want to go.”
Spanish moss. The Mississippi River flowing through my veins.
MiMi left Lo and me her tiny house on the bayou. We haven’t sorted through what we want to do, so it’s just sitting there empty, waiting.
“I want to go to Louisiana,” I say. “Not many know about MiMi’s place, that I’m connected to it.”
“Okay. The Waves have a plane that’ll take you there.”
“And you?” I don’t want to sound pitiful, but I need him so badly. I never wanted to be dependent on a man again, but it’s too late. Our hearts are interdependent, and when mine is aching, it needs him. Wants him.Iwant him.
“I’m coming to you, of course.” He growls over the phone. “God, I’d be there by now if it weren’t for this damn snow in Denver. As soon as I can get a flight out of here, I’ll come. Just text me the address.”
“Okay.” My heartbeat slows just a little.
“A driver will take you to the airport, and a guy from the security team will go with you to the house.”
My blood congeals. “No,” I croak. “No. I don’t want that. I don’t want a bodyguard or security or . . . no. Just you, August.”
“Iris, there’s no way in hell I’m letting you and Sarai go to the middle of nowhere by yourselves during this shit storm,” he snaps.
“That’s right. You’re notlettingme do anything,” I snap right back. “I’mtellingyou that I’m not having some strange man staying with me and my daughter. End of story.”
“But Iris—”
“Did you read the file?” I ask abruptly.
We’re separated by miles and an ocean’s worth of silence floating between us.
