“No,” I heard a gasp coming from the door. “No, no, no.”
Mom stood there, in her cashmere suit, her fingers fluttering over her lips. She stared at me, awe-struck. “Hallie, tell me this is not true.”
For some reason, I never thought they’d believe me if I came forward. Never thought they would take me seriously. I guess they didn’t think I was as much of an airhead as they’d made me peg myself to be.
“I’m not telling you anything.” Coldly, I gave her my back, picking one of the random whiskey glasses on the desk and tossing it down. “You’re hardly my mother. Save for giving birth to me, you’ve been pretty absent from my life.”
“Of course, I’m your mother!” Mom choked out. “Tony, do something.”
Through the reflection of the spotless window, I could see her collapsing onto the floor, bracing herself by one of the walls.
“If this is true…” Dad stalked toward me, his face red and angry. “If he really hurt you—”
“Oh God, Dad, not this.” I plopped down on his chair, crossing my ankles on his desk. “The if part is so unnecessary and insulting. Especially since, as I recall, you ran for re-election on the promise of not silencing women, their experiences, or their struggles.”
“I’m not doubting you.” He went down on one knee, trying to catch my gaze unsuccessfully. “I’m trying to understand…trying to digest what’s happening here…”
“Don’t bother.” I waved him off. “No words can suffice for what I’ve been through. The experience is awash in shame, pain, and regret. You were right to do the article without me. I’m really not a part of this family anymore. Mr. Lockwood?” I called out, glancing at the door.
Ransom appeared like a demon summoned, hands behind his back.
“Miss Thorne?”
“Our next stop is my sister’s apartment in downtown Dallas. Could you ensure the car’s ready?”
“Absolutely,” he said readily, the glint in his eyes telling me he was proud.
Then it happened. Out of all the moments, of all the days, of all the times we’d spent together.
Like a punch to the gut came the awful, tragic realization that I was in love with Ransom Lockwood.
Orphaned. Soulless. Heartless. And broken to a fault.
In love with his good parts as well as the bad ones. The ugly parts and those so beautiful it made it impossible for me to think about him and breathe at the same time.
I was in love with how he made me feel, with whom he made me become. Once he left, he was going to take my heart with him, and I could do nothing about it.
In a daze, I stood, making my way to the door. My parents tried to stop me. My mother flung herself in front of the door, crying desperately for me to stay. I sidestepped her, feeling at ease about what had happened with my parents and completely panicked about being in love with Ransom.
“We’re making a stop at a police station first.”
Ransom delivered the news with the quiet finality of a man who knew he would not be met with resistance. No turning back from this one. My actions at my parents’ house couldn’t be undone. I didn’t want them to be undone. Craig had committed atrocious acts against me, and he deserved to pay for it.
“It’s going to be embarrassing.” I nibbled on my thumbnail, looking out the window.
“It’s going to be empowering,” Ransom retorted.
A thought occurred to me. One I must’ve shoved to the back of my mind while confronting my parents, who, by the way, were blowing up my phone and going straight to voicemail.
Turning sharply to my bodyguard, I said, “They can terminate your contract at any time. I basically spat in their faces and told them, not in so many words, that their assistance and financial support is unappreciated.”
I couldn’t imagine how I’d manage to survive without my parents’ help, but I knew it was time to remove myself from under their wing.
“They can’t.” Ransom punched something into his phone.
“How do you know?”
“I write my own contracts. No exit clause.”
“They might fire you just to spite me and keep you on their payroll.”
“You think very lowly of your family.” His eyes shifted from his screen, scanning me intently. “Besides,” he smiled, “they still think you hate me, remember? No way they’ll let you be rid of me now.”
Disappointment crashed into me, and I realized foolishly that I’d expected him to tell me he’d stay, even if they fired him.
The car slowed to a stop by a curb. Ransom tucked his phone into his pocket. “We’re here.”
Filing a complaint against Craig was relatively painless, everything considered. I recited the incidents coldly, in what almost felt like an out-of-body experience.
The two officers who took my statement allowed Ransom to be in the room, and asked their questions gently, giving me time to sort out the thoughts in my head.
When I walked out of the police station an hour later, I had fifteen missed calls from Mom, twenty from Dad, and dozens of unread messages.
Ransom and I slipped into the car. I rubbed at my temples, feeling the beginning of a headache. “I don’t even know where my sister lives.”
She’d never invited me over, never made the faintest effort to get to know me.
“I have it,” Ransom said.
“I wonder what life is going to be like after you,” I blurted out. “After you’re gone.”
He flashed me a smile. “Same as before, but with a lot more googling.”
Hera and Craig lived in an aquarium-like skyscraper downtown. All azure glass and high ceilings. The type with twenty-four-hour concierge, gym, spa, gourmet restaurant, and business center. Before we got there, Ransom asked the driver to stop by a small flower shop and purchased a big bouquet.
I stared at him, puzzled. “Looking to make a move, now that she’ll most likely be single?” I arched an eyebrow.
The only reason I believed Hera would be single was because there was no way she’d put up with the embarrassment of standing by Craig’s side if this went to trial.
“You know me too well,” Ransom said flatly.
When we entered Hera and Craig’s building, Ransom’s game became clear to me. He approached the uniformed concierge, holding the bouquet.
“Hello, I’m Ransom Lockwood, and this is Miss Hallie Thorne, Hera Thorne’s sister. We’re here on a social call, but would like to keep it a surprise from the newlywed couple.”
The man, in his mid-fifties, eyed the flowers with a smile. “Of course. Unfortunately, it goes against our policy. What apartment shall I ring?”
“Six-two-four,” Ransom said easily. “But preferably, you’d let us pass. See, we’ve arranged a surprise for the couple. I’m sure they’d appreciate the full impact of it if we arrive unannounced.”
The man looked torn. On one hand, there was a protocol. On the other, Ransom was incredibly convincing, and the flowers were gorgeous.
Finally, he groaned, “All right.”
And so we slipped into the elevator to the sixth floor, heading toward Hera and Craig’s apartment.
“A surprise, huh?” I stared up at the mirrored ceiling of the elevator.