Page 27 of Cruel Dominion

“Anna. Sit down,” my father hissed through clenched teeth. My mom looked like she was going to pass out. I clenched my fists, meeting my dad’s eyes. He was braced in his seat, holding himself back.

“Please excuse me. I’ve lost my appetite.”

I smiled politely at Steve and walked out of the dining room. My heart thrummed almost painfully. I didn’t go upstairs. I went to the great room and slid the doors open to the patio. The brisk sea breeze filled my lungs, immediately invigorating me. I walked over the lawn, and down to the beach, ignoring my father’s roaring voice fighting against the wind for me to return this instant.

He wouldn’t chase me. He was too proud for that.

Instead, he’d have to figure out some way to convince Steve to keep his mouth shut. Maybe our dinner would be good for Steve’s political career after all if the guy had enough balls to reach out and take the low hanging fruit I left for him.

I kicked my shoes off, leaving them behind me to sink my feet into the sand. The beach felt like freedom. The sound of the ocean and the clean, crisp air whispered that I was okay. I’d be okay. Even if dad kicked me out after what I’d just done.

Unconsciously, I wandered down the wide strip of beach, wrapping my arms around myself to stave off the chill of the wind and what waited for me when I eventually returned.

If Hudson Vaughn didn’t already combust from the rage, I’d get an earful when I got back. I was ready this time. I wasn’t a kid anymore. He scared me, but I’d faced down scarier men now.

Plodding through the sand, I kicked my feet, wondering how I managed to live away from the ocean for so long. Staring at boats chugging along the Mississippi River just didn’t do it for me. I walked down to the water line and let the water wash over my feet, sucking in a breath at the chill.

I ached to go further down the beach. Another half mile and I’d be at that invisible line between luxury and squalor. Right at the spot where Carter and I…

Before I knew it, I was already halfway there, walking until my feet were numb with cold in the water. Until I was here.

The houses up the sloping sand away to my right looked a little different. Larger than I remembered. Perhaps remodeled or rebuilt, but this was definitely the place.

I turned to the water, hating how my throat ached as I stared out over the silver capped waves and tried not to think of all the other times I’d come here. Tried not to think of him.

“Do you know how many times I came out here hoping I’d see you?”

I screamed, stumbling toward the water. He hurried over to me to help me up, and I swatted his reaching arms away, flailing to get my footing.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded.

He drew up to his full height, nothing more than a black silhouette against the blinding light of the setting sun, but I knew it was him. I knew his voice just as my body knew the pull of his nearness.

“I live here.”

8

CARTER

“Ithink I should head home.”

“Nah. You definitely shouldn’t.”

Anna lay next to me in the sand, her head resting on my arm. It was dead. Numb to the fucking bone. But I wouldn’t move it if it meant ruining her comfort.

She raised her head and looked down at me coyly, the moon behind her lighting tiny strands of her brown hair to a silvery hue.

“What’s that look for?” I asked, gripping her chin and leaning up to try to kiss it away. This was the thing about our little meetings on the beach, they always had to end.

How the best part of my day would always be capped off by the worst part was the most bullshit kind of Catch-22.

“Carter,” Anna moaned and I resisted the urge to pull her against me again. “You know I can’t stay too long. If I walk into the house tomorrow morning, my dad will literally kill me.”

I shook my head. “He’d probably pay someone to do it,” I corrected her. “Too afraid to get those girly hands dirty.”

She chuckled, swatting me.

“I won’t let him touch you,” I said, earnest now, though I knew it wasn’t violence she feared from him. It was being stuffed into the box he made for her. Forced to mold to the shape he predefined.

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