Broken Wings (A Romantic Suspense)(65)

“Yes. It was a goddamn accident.”

“Then why were you so adamant that I never see Ellie?”

“For f*ck’s sake, son. You were sixteen years old. I didn’t want you carrying that baggage for the rest of your life. I knew you’d get over it. She was just a girl. The world is full of girls. You can get all the girls you want.”

I struggle to lift my head from the seat.

“Do you f*cking hear yourself?”

He blinks.

“She’s not baggage, you egotistical *. She’s a person. Do I have to draw you a f*cking map?”

“You’re not going to get elected to public office with a wife like that. The American people are not going to vote a man into office who has a first lady that looks like Two-Face.”

“I don’t f*cking care. Do you really think you can just push me around like a puppet for the rest of my life? I’m not running for Congress or anything else.”

“Then what the hell are you going to do?”

“I don’t know, I’ll figure it out. As much as it disgusts me to take advantage of what you’ve given me, I can get started on my own, with my wife. I can have a good life. We can be happy together. Now, where is she?”

He looks at me.

“You don’t have to tell me. I’ll find out. I’m never going to stop. Ever. I will find her. If you did something to her, I swear to God, I will f*cking kill you myself, you sick, reptilian, cold-blooded * motherf*cker son of a bitch.”

“She’s with her mother,” he says flatly.

“Now where the hell are we?”

“By now? Oklahoma-ish. I sent them on a different plane. I left Jessica to deal with Ellie. I don’t get involved in anything between them. That’s by Jessica’s request. I handle my child, and she handles hers.”

“If she hurts her…”

“Why would she?”

I tug at my handcuffs. “She already has. She had some crazy plan to make Ellie a singer or get her on TV or something when she was a kid.”

“That’s why I married her. Love a woman with ambition.”

“Ambition?” I spit. “She starved Ellie, pushed her to exercise until she hurt herself, put her down all the time. Hell, Ellie told me that…”

I trail off.

“What?” my father says, leaning forward. “Told you what?”

“The night of the accident, when Ellie was burned. When her father died. Her parents—her father and stepmother—were arguing about something to do with her. About her ‘career’ or something. I remember seeing them before we went out to the restaurant…”

My father looks at me and has gone completely pale.

“Jesus Christ,” he says softly.





Ellie





“Jack!” I wail.

I fight with a strength that I didn’t know I had, my arms twisting with animal fury as I claw and scratch and try to worm loose. Two of Richard’s goons pin me to the bed while they carry off Jack’s limp body, and a wailing sob bursts out of me.

I struggle and kick until I hear a familiar voice.

“What the hell are you doing? Let go of her!”

They release me all at once. I surge to my feet, stumble, and fall. Mom kneels at my side, grabs me, and pulls me into an embrace.

“Mom, stop them! They’re hurting him.”

She sighs and hugs me tighter. “It’s going to be okay, honey. They won’t hurt him once he stops fighting them.”

“How can you let this happen?”

I start to stand up. She clamps down on my arms.

“Ellie, listen to me, okay? This is going to be tough for you, but you need to hear it. Jack has been manipulating you.”

“What? No he hasn’t.”

“Of course he has. I know you’d never do something as crazy and dangerous as this without his influence. Would you?”

Before I can answer she crushes me in an embrace. “I was so worried about you. When you wouldn’t answer me I had Richard bring us back right away. Fitzgerald was beside himself. He couldn’t tell us where you were. I’ve had people looking for you. I wanted to go myself but Jack said we had to stay and coordinate the search.”

“How did you find us?”

“Jack registered you here under his own name.”

“I have to see him—”

“No, I’m afraid you can’t. Richard will have him escorted away. He’s going to be kept away from you from now on.”

“You can’t do that, we got married. He’s my husband now.”

She gives me a strange look, sort of flat and cold, and grabs my hand, trying to pry the ring off my finger.

“Give me that.”

“No, it’s mine!”

She yanks the ring loose, and I haul back and slap her. Mom falls to the floor and lies there, and when she looks up at me, I can see her softly begin to weep.

“You hit me,” she says, very softly.

“Mom—”

“You hit me,” she repeats.

“I’m sorry!” I wail, “I didn’t mean it! I just want my ring back!”

She thrusts her hand out at me. “Take it, if it’s so important to you. Your own mother, Ellie.”