The man that she had leaned on for the last year wasn’t the type to cut and run, and she needed to stop thinking that he would.
“He wouldn’t scream at me,” she started, doing what she should have a long time ago. Trust him. “He never raised his voice. But somehow it was even more terrifying. I would always freeze up. Like I couldn’t move. He had this tone of voice when he was unhappy or planning something. It was like he thrived on making me helpless. I know that I was lucky that he never raped me, let alone let others use me like that, but … anytime I think about his voice. I freeze.”
“This has nothing to do with luck, Winter. He was a sadistic bastard. Just because he wasn’t raping you didn’t mean that he wasn’t terrorizing you.”
“He would beat me, whip me while I was tied down. And after he was done, he would stroke my arm telling me that I was such a good girl. That someday I would make him a lot of money.” She started crying, the waves of the ocean becoming blurry.
“I’ve got you, little bird,” he whispered in her ear, but it was like the flood gates had been pulled back.
“I just don’t understand what he wanted with me. Why he did this to me! Whytheydid this to me!” She sobbed, letting the pain out of its box.
“It’s because of your trust. Because of your grandmother’s money.”
“What?” She sat up in shock, rubbing at the tears streaming down her cheeks, and turned to look back at Mark. “What are you talking about? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I haven’t been hiding it,” he said holding his hands out slightly at her anger, as if to ward her off. “I was just waiting for you to want to know. I didn’t want to bring up something that would set you back.” His eyes were on her, filled with apprehension.
The frown on his face giving him away.
“Can you tell me now?” she whispered, because he was right.
At one time, the knowledge wouldn’t have helped her, and afterwards she hadn’t wanted to know at all.
“Do you remember your grandmother?”
“My mom’s mom?” she asked confused. Of course, she remembered her. Her grandmother had once been a very important part of her life.
“She was very rich, all her money was family money. But when she died it all went to you. Not your mom. It’s in a trust that you can’t access till you are thirty. There are other stipulations to the trust as well, like if you die it doesn’t go to anyone.” He was watching her closely, his eyes assessing her face.
Like he always did, watching out for her.
“When you are ready, I have everything for you. Papers about the trust, new ID, everything you need to set yourself up again,” he whispered, and she felt something in her chest shift.
She could go anywhere then.
Anywhere she wanted.
She really could be free.
Just like she had wanted to before she was taken.
Then why did she want to stay right where she was at?
Then a thought occurred to her.
“So he just wanted the money?” she whispered frowning, some of the pieces coming together.
“Your father didn’t sell you so much as the trust.”
“How do you know all this?”
She was still turned watching him as he sighed, and ran his hands through his dark hair. The sun catching bits of sand that were stuck there.
A much better sight than the ocean.
“When I started looking into you, I ran a check on you, but it wasn’t much. Then the first couple of months when you weren’t talking, I wanted to know exactly what I was getting in to. I just found some history. I didn’t do a deep dive in to all of your family.”
“That’s how you know about the stuff with Ernesto? Why you sent Rosita in?”
