I’m brave.
I’m brave.
I’m fucking brave.
Being brave doesn’t mean not being afraid, Nora. It means being afraid and doing it anyway.
The mere memory of Brand’s voice, his words, makes me smile, warms my heart and buoys my resolve.
How dare William threaten him?
I could’ve cowered forever under threats toward me, but toward Brand?
That’s where they fucked up.
The front door opens. I hear the latch, I hear the knob. I lift my chin.
I’m fucking brave.
I’m fucking brave.
I reach under the edge of the mattress, my fingertips reaching, feeling. Cool metal answers my question. It’s there… just within reach. Concealed and waiting.
It all ends today.
A polished loafer appears in my bedroom doorway, and I follow the legs up to the waist, up to the chest, up to the face where hardened brown eyes stare at me.
“Nora,” my father says, a camera dangling from his hand. “I see you’re ready.”
He eyes me, all of me, my bare legs, my breasts spilling from my bra, my bare skin, my arms, my face. It’s all exposed.
For my father and my uncle.
My reality slams into me, hard and fast and ugly.
I’m tainted.
I’m used.
But it all ends today.
One more time.
One.
More.
Time.
I unclench my teeth and lay back on the bed, spreading my legs the way they like.
“A Greene does what it takes,” I tell my father coldly. “You taught me that.”
My father nods, his gaze fixed on my crotch. He snaps a picture, then two, then three.
“Starting without me?”
William steps in. He’s already shed his clothes, probably in the living room, and he’s only wearing his underwear. He’s pale, wrinkled, sagging. My stomach turns, but I ignore it.