Destroyed Destiny (Crowne Point 4)

“Go to the police, and they’ll call us. Go to the media, and they’ll call us. Publish it online, and no one will see it. Yell at the top of your lungs, and no one will hear.”

A shiver raced down my spine.

“Grayson will hear,” I said softly. “Grayson will see me.”

West placed his phone beneath my eyes, already playing a video. It was the one Grayson had sent of us on his wedding night. The thing keeping us prisoner.

“I could ruin his life with the press of one fucking button, Angel. Grayson has no power. The hero you keep waiting to rescue you needs to be rescued himself. I could save you…” West sat on the cobblestone wall, spinning around until he was shoulder to shoulder. “If you let me.”

“And how would that work?” I hopped off the wall. “You would save me from yourself?” I swallowed my scoff. The only one who could save me is thousands of miles away.

I glanced at my finger…the bruise entirely faded from our secret wedding. The birdsongs echoed in the dying light of the sky, lonesome and lost.

“He won’t find it,” West said casually.

My heart hitched. “What?”

West hopped off the wall, following me. “That coin you’re looking so hard for. Grayson will never find it.”

My heart bottomed out.

As West strolled casually through the blades of Scottish grass, one thought spun through my mind, mixing with the birdsong.

He knew?

He knew.

“I…” I swallowed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He grinned, like he knew I was full of shit. “Let me jog your memory, Angel. The day of your uncle’s funeral, you told me he had been a little…out of his mind lately.”

West picked a wildflower from the grass, a picture of ease.

My brow furrowed, trying to remember. The weeks following Grayson’s wedding and leading into my uncle’s death were a blur of emotion.

“He wasn’t the same in the end. Losing his mind. Going on about coins buried beneath poetry and wishes.”

West arched a brow. “Coins?”

I fell back against the cobblestone wall, feeling like I was going to faint and be sick. Was anything without motive? None of my words were safe. All this time, while I’d been trying to stay above water, the people around me were tying anchors to my ankles.

“He was out of his mind,” I said, voice shaking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about or why you would even care.”

“I could be your savior.” West held out the wildflower he’d picked for me, like some knight courting a lady. “I want to learn how you like to be kissed, Angel.” With his free hand, he placed his pointer finger beneath my chin, dragging my eyes to his. “I want to learn what makes you moan.”

My gut clenched.

Traitor.

“You will never make me moan,” I hissed, curling my fist around the flower and smashing the petals into pieces.

“Because I raped you?” His tone was level, but the flower stem snapped. For this second, honesty existed between us. Bloody, raw, and jagged.

West stood up and hopped up to the end of the cobblestone wall, one leg dangling to the wildflowers beneath.

To my left, another servant walked by, carrying a basket of what looked like laundry. I knew I should hold my tongue.

I raised my voice.