Break Page 39


Uncle Dominic patted him on the back as Luke pinched the bridge of his nose, his face screwed up in pain. I dug my nails into my palms as I watched him fight to keep his emotions from bursting out. The person who he wanted to hear those words from would never do it.

“I love my brother, but he hasn’t been himself lately. No matter what, you will get what belongs to you. I promise.”

“Thanks, Dominic.”

“I know it’s been hard dealing with your dad, but he won’t be around much longer. You have to promise me you’ll visit him more often.”

A bitter look crossed Luke’s face, but it softened when heard his uncle’s voice crack. “I will.”

He gave him a smile and one final pat on the back, and then he walked back towards the piano. “Who wants to hear some ragtime?”

A volley of cheers and whistled blasted across the room and I looked away as Luke wiped his eyes with his thumb. I took his hand and squeezed it. “Everything will work out.” I slipped my hand into my purse and muted my phone. It had been buzzing all night. What did Natalie want?

“We can turn in early, if you want. My uncle will understand.”

I nearly collapsed in relief. “Really? That’d be great, actually.”

Though it was only seven, I was exhausted and I thought longingly of the bed upstairs with its fluffy, white comforter. Luke and I went upstairs and I curled into bed as Luke took a shower. All was well. Luke’s uncle seemed like a decent man. I clawed the nightstand for the remote. I wanted to fix my mind on something else before I fell asleep. My thumb clicked the remote, scrolling through the channels as my eyeballs burned from the bright, plasma screen. Jessica Knight. I stopped as I saw my name blazing on the television screen with an old picture of Luke and I kissing in Hyde Park.

How did they find out my name?

A blonde woman smiled at the camera. “Today, we’ve received an exclusive report about the Luke Pardini’s new girlfriend, or should we say, his escort.”

The remote clattered loudly on the wooden floor.

“Jessica?” Luke’s voice said from the bathroom. “What was that?”

“Jessica Knight, a graduate from San Francisco State University, signed up on an escort website for rich men to make ends meet. The beautiful blonde caught the eye of Luke Pardini, son of Giacomo Pardini and heir to Pardini Worldwide.”

“Hey, are you there?”

My eyes were glued to the television as horror suffocated my chest. How did they find out all this? I told no one—absolutely no one. Neither of us had. The bathroom door opened and steam poured in the bedroom. I heard Luke’s heavy footsteps and dreaded the moment that he would see the television screen.

“Jessica, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” He looked at the screen and fell silent.

“At TMZ, we wondered who the mysterious blonde and where she was from, check this out—”

The screen faded into a view of a dilapidated porch of a house that I knew very well. On the porch were three people: a fat blonde woman and her husband, and squeezed between them was their son, Vincent.

A reporter held a microphone to them. “She was a problem child, but we did the best we could. We had her for seven years, and then she left to join a group home. We never saw her again.”

Shelly Kramer leaned in, her watery, small eyes staring into the camera. “She had a major drug problem, behavioral issues.” She shook her head. “Always acting out.”

Vincent smiled at the camera. He had gained weight, but nothing else had changed. His white-blonde hair still hung around his head at shoulder-length; his small blue eyes glinted with malice. He had charmed and fooled so many people with his angelic face, but a close look into his eyes was like staring into the abyss. There was nothing there. Life is boring when you don’t have any emotions, and raping me allowed him to feel the slightest spark of excitement. He was addicted to it.

I didn’t hear the rest of the program. The violence surged up my throat and I shoved Luke aside to flip open the toilet seat and I voided everything in my stomach. The face that haunted my thoughts for years was blown up on the television, unpunished—along with my foster parents. I remembered how once Shelly walked in on Vincent raping me in my bedroom. I looked at her, tears streaming down my face, as he released his damp hands from around my throat. His cock dug inside me like a knife and it was so painful, that he choked me to keep my screams silent. A scream finally left my throat, torn and ragged. Shelly backed away from the doorway, an unfathomable expression on her face. She slammed the door shut and I heard her heavy footsteps scamper away.

All of it played in my mind like a movie. I couldn’t stop it. My lips dripped with vomit as I sobbed into the toilet. I just wanted to end it. I looked around the bathroom and saw Luke’s razor perched on the sink and I lunged for it. I wanted to destroy something, make someone feel a little bit of the horror I felt inside. I looked at my legs and felt a surge of anger. I could feel the razor blades cutting into my skin and I bit my lip, preparing to drag and slice.

A hand closed over my wrist and forced my hand against the wall. I fought against him but he pressed down painfully and I released the blade. When I opened my eyes, I saw Luke’s face, livid with fear. All the noise in my head stopped.

“Jessica, you’re safe.”

My lip quivered as I looked down at the razor I held seconds ago, determined to slice my skin open. What the fuck did I just do? All it took was a short video of my attackers to shatter the delusion that I had moved on. That I was fixed. I collapsed into Luke’s arms and sobbed into his bare shoulder, filled with shame. How could I think about doing that to myself?

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault.”

“I’m so fucked up, Luke.”

He just held me as I cried. I shook with huge wracking sobs. I was boiling in pain and I didn’t want to do it anymore. When will I be free of them? I wanted to break away from Luke and sob in private, but he refused to let me go. I felt ashamed. It was as though my tears were indecent, that I should hide them like everything in my past. It was too ugly to talk about. No one wanted to hear about my dark shit. The pain subsided as my body gave into exhaustion, and then I finally, finally stopped crying.

“How did they find out my name?” I said in a shaking voice. “How did they find out all of it?”

“Someone told them your name, address, everything. Someone sold a story about you.”

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