My entire chest felt as if it was going to short out. He’d completely charmed her before I had a chance to tell her the real truth. Now, everything was spinning. I worried about Erica, hated Brock for somehow working his way into my world once again, and school? The one place I had to myself? That I was thriving at? Was stalled. My project was halted, a new advisor was coming into the mix, and what about Erica? Would she be okay? I wanted to fight harder, make her listen, beg her to listen. Because, if Brock hurt her, I’d never forgive myself.
“I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through,” she said with sincerity. “And I hope you find what it is you are searching for, but for the sake of my family, and our happiness, I truly think the best way to start to heal is by creating some distance professionally and personally.”
Despair closed in and the sting of tears barely threatened because it was eclipsed by crushing defeat and anger. Once again, I had gone up against Brock and lost. Erica was a genuinely nice person, and if anything happened to her…
“Erica, I respect you and care, and I worry that—”
“There’s no need to worry. Once the semester is over, maybe we can talk. Brock said he’s open to family therapy,” she added with a hopeful gleam in her eyes. I bet he was. Another way to make me look like the crazy girl who cried rape.
“You’ll get an email in the next couple days about the logistics of your new advisor and meeting time. Good luck to you, Lana,” she said, and once again I had been dismissed.
I stood slowly, knowing there was nothing I could say to convince her otherwise. The fiery sickness in my gut raged hotter and I wanted to scream and cry all at the same time. I felt powerless. The worst feeling in the world, and one I was familiar with.
Walking out of her office, I hustled out of the building and all but ran to my car. Getting in, I shut the door and took a deep breath.
A tap came at the window and I jumped.
Brock.
I rolled it down just an inch. “Hey, sis, bad day?”
“You’re disgusting.”
“Aw, that’s not nice.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Ball is in your court now. I’d be careful if I were you.”
“You threaten me even now?”
“Not threaten, just remind you of the facts.”
“Oh, I’m very aware of the facts. You may have everyone else blind to what you really are, but I know.”
“It doesn’t matter what you know. Erica won’t believe you. So, you even try to talk to her again about us, and that could be grounds for defamation of character. You really want to get kicked out of school?”
My breathing stalled. He held all the cards, and we both knew it. The truth was, school mattered so much to me, but my main concern was Erica.
“If you hurt her—”
“I love her,” Brock said. I scoffed because he didn’t know the meaning. But, he liked threats? I’d have to sink to his level if it meant making sure Erica would be okay, even from a distance.
“You know that one wrong move on your part, one rough touch or evil glare, and her confidence in you will chip away. So, you so much as look at her wrong, make her feel unsafe, and she’ll wonder if I’m the one to believe. You might be able to dress the part of the doting fiancée, but no one can keep up the façade forever. Not even you.”
His face turned a little red with rising anger. Oh, yeah, I could make threats too, asshole. Judging by the expression on his face, he knew what I said to be true.
“Which is why I won’t hurt her,” he said with a sneer in his voice. I was upsetting him. He knew I was right, one wrong move and Erica would believe me. “You know, maybe this has gone too far,” Brock said with a smile. I hated that smile. Because it always came with some trick or plot he had brewing. “If you really can’t get past what you think you remember, there are places for you to go to get mental help.”
“You intend to paint me crazy and lock me away in a hospital somewhere? You have no power over me.” Man, did it feel good to say that.
“I think that your father and, as of today, your previous advisor, would give compelling testimony that your issues have gone far past a healthy rationale.”
That was the final blow. Because the scary thing was, he was right. Everyone in my world would back him. Would assume I was the problem. Including my own father.
“I have people who believe me,” I countered, trying for any strength I had left.
He laughed. “You mean your one friend Harper and Jack Powell? Harper would say anything to help you and doesn’t hold much credit, and you set up a meeting with me and Powell. Most people wouldn’t try to merge someone who supposedly raped them with their fuck buddy at the time, much less a business endeavor. Most people would be traumatized and stay away from the person who hurt them.”
“Oh, I’ve tried to stay away from you,” I said, my voice breaking. Brock was good at taking every ounce of strength I had. Yes, I had set up a meeting between my father, Brock, and Jack, but that was to get Brock to move back to New York and away from me. But that didn’t change the fact that it still looked bad. And, once again, my father wouldn’t support me if it came down to it.
I was powerless.