Fuck you, you fucking monster.
“I’m sure Brand doesn’t want it known that the only reason he ever served his country was as a punishment for assault and battery. His company is successful in large part because of his and his partner’s decorated military history. The connections I have in the pentagon… they wouldn’t be very happy to know that they’re doing business with a fraud.”
My head snaps up.
“Brand isn’t a fraud,” I spit. “No one would ever think so.”
William nods, very happy with my reaction, happy that he’s getting one.
“They would believe that if I told them to. They would publicly withdraw their business and cite their reasons… that Branden is a fraud, a criminal, if I told them to. And when that happens, Brand’s company would go bankrupt. He’d be ruined and left with nothing.”
My breath leaves my body in a rush, even though I desperately try not to show it. “They wouldn’t,” I say, attempting to call his bluff. “His company does a good job. They would have no reason.”
William drums his fingers casually on the table, as if we’re having a friendly, normal conversation.
“My dear,” he says, ever-so-sweetly. “They would do anything I ask them to do. That’s how much weight I pull in Washington.”
I stare at him and his eyes narrow as he gets up and walks toward me.
I have to fight to remain still, to stand my ground.
“You can’t run from me.”
He takes another step toward me, then another.
“I always get what I want.”
He stops right in front of me, close enough that I have to breathe in his hateful cologne, and smell his fetid, hot breath.
“Ask me, Nora.”
I turn my gaze up to meet his. His eyes are as cold as they are faded and old.
I seal my lips, unwilling to do it.
“Ask. Me.”
He grabs one of my hands and squeezes it, pushing the delicate bones of my hands together. I grit my teeth with the pain.
He squeezes harder.
“What do you want?” I finally ask, to make him quit hurting me.
“You.”
I fight the urgent need to vomit.
“He’s getting in the way of what I want,” William says pleasantly now, releasing my hand. “I want you to leave his cottage, and come with me for a trip to Abu Dhabi. We’ll say it’s for business. But I assure you, it won’t be business.”
His hand juts out and cups my crotch, his fingernails digging into my tender flesh there, biting into me. He likes pain. I know this. I’ve experienced it before. He likes inflicting pain.
I step backward, yanking away from him, from his evil touch.
“You don’t want me. You wanted my mother and you couldn’t have her. I’m not my mother.”
William’s wrinkled mouth pulls into a cynical smile. “What a clever girl you are. It might’ve started out that way, I wanted you because your mother had to watch me chase you and she could never do anything about it because she’s a helpless cunt. But I want you now. Your mother is old.”
So are you. I swallow the acid on my tongue.