Page 18 of Myself

He takes a step toward me, and I stare down at him. He’s on the smaller side. Maybe a hundred and ninety pounds and five-foot-nine. I’m two forty and stand six-foot-two.

“I was doing her a favor,” he repeats with a growl.

I roll my eyes but ask, “What did you do for her exactly?”

He opens his mouth to talk but then shuts it quickly. “Never mind,” he snaps. He goes to walk past me toward the bathroom door, but I grab the back of his shirt and slam him face first into it instead. I hear a cracking noise as he cries out before he falls to the floor once again.

I kneel in front of him and watch the blood pour down his face from a cut across his nose. “What does that mean exactly, Conner?” I ask calmly.

His hands lift to cover his nose, and I yank them away. “Don’t,” he shouts in panic as his feet slide across the floor as if he’s trying to scoot away from me. There’s nowhere for him to go. “Don’t ...”

“Explain,” I demand, losing my patience.

He sucks in a long breath. “Becca’s dad wasn’t gonna let her go to Seattle.” I nod ‘cause this is nothing new to me. “But her mom wanted her to go. So she offered me a deal.” My back stiffens at the thought of what Becca’s mother did. She is vindictive as fuck.

“What kind of deal?” I ask through clenched teeth.

Tears fill his dark brown eyes from the pain of his nose. His hands hover over it, shaking. “I was going to end it with Becca after high school graduation, but she said if I’d go with her, she would pay me.”

My brows shoot up. “Pay you?” He nods his head quickly.

“Why the hell would you need her to pay you?” I snap. His family is just as well off as we are. She couldn’t possibly pay him enough that he would stay with her for money.

“I ...” He stops talking as he takes in a long breath.

I reach up and slap the side of his face. Not hard but enough to make him cry out again. “Talk,” I order.

“Okay. Okay,” he says in a rush. “I had been getting in trouble a lot, and my father was mad that I didn’t attend college after graduation.” He’s a year older than Becca is, and I remember him using her as an excuse for not going off to college after he graduated. He wanted to stay and wait for her. It was such bullshit. He just wanted to stay home and live off Mommy and Daddy. He’s a lazy POS. “My father told me that I had to go to work for him or he was gonna cut me off. I didn’t want to, and then her mother offered me money to go with her to Seattle. So I took it.”

I lean back on my heels and run a hand through my hair. “Then what?” I ask, knowing there’s more.

“Then nothing,” he sighs.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” I grind out. “You have a trust fund!” I snap. “Why the hell would you need her mother to pay you?”

He licks the blood off his lips and then swallows. “My father won’t allow me access to it until I settle down. He said that I needed to grow up and do what was right.”

“What’s right?”

He nods. “He said that if I was going to be living with her in Seattle, I needed to marry her. And then he would give me access to my trust fund.”

I feel sick to my stomach. His father is just as fucked up as her mother is. “Then why haven’t you?” I hate to ask that question.

“Because her mom was paying me enough that I didn’t need it,” he says simply.

“Let me make sure I understand,” I say, holding up my hand. “You’ve been with Becca for money for the past four years?”

He nods. “See. I did her a favor. She wanted to go to Seattle, and without me, that wouldn’t have been possible. All I had to do was report back to her mom.”

“But why did she fight to let Becca go in the first place?” I wonder out loud.

He snorts and then flinches. “Because of you,” he whispers.

“Me?”

He nods once. “Her mother knew how much she loved you.” His eyes narrow up at me. “And she said over her dead body would she allow her daughter to be with a Barnett.”

I’m gonna be sick. She has been with this fucker for the past four years because her mother wanted her away from me. “So Gwenda paid you to go out of state with her in order to get her away from me?” I’ve heard it all.

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