Page 40 of Pretty Broken Things

“She’s beautiful, and charming. She’ll do as she’s told because she’s so grateful she won’t starve with me and I won’t hit her.”

Lord he disgusts me. How did I never see this is who he is? I can’t believe I’ve spent so many years looking up to this man. Even when he left me to raise myself, and only gave me money, I still felt like he was better than me. I was the one who needed to change my thinking at the time.

“You can control her,” I finally say.

His head tips down to look me directly in the face. His eyes are hard and emotionless. If I doubted it before, I don’t know, he doesn’t feel anything for me. I’m like Camille, malleable, something he uses to support his image. Ford is who doesn’t fit. He won’t bow down to my father’s authority, and he challenges the image my dad wants to put out.

“It’s not only her I control,daughter.” He says it like I’m a possession. He has pretty much bought and paid for me over the years, I just didn’t realize taking the money he so freely gave me was more than a tool to assuage his guilt.

“I’m not breaking up with him, but I’m willing to talk to him about hiding our relationship. That’s the best I’ve got for you.” The words are sour in my mouth, but I know I’m not getting away from this without giving something.

He shakes his head. “Not good enough. Let me tell you what I’m willing to do. You end things with him, for good, and I’ll let him move into his own room at the house. Camille and I will be moving in as well, so I will know if he doesn’t stay where he’s put.”

His eyes latch on to mine again, and he waits for that little nugget to sink in. I don’t react. Not without the threat I know is coming. I still have a tiny sliver of hope that somehow Ford and I can endure this.

“I have friends with kids at your school, so I’ll know if you try and carry on outside of the home as well. I’m not playing around with you, Contessa.”

That hope is dwindling, but I’m stubborn. I stay silent, because even with these terms we can find a way.

He shrugs. “Okay, I see you need it spelled out for you. Do you know Ford knocked his father unconscious last night? I mean, who is to say he wasn’t the one who attacked his mother? I can have him behind bars with one word.”

“And if I agree to your terms?” I ask through clenched teeth.

“Then he comes to live with us. He will get an allowance befitting a member of my family, a better vehicle, and a college fund,” he offers.

Ford would hate every bit of that. He wanted to live with me, but not once did he seem at home in my overly large house. He wants to earn his own money, and he’s very attached to his truck, but my father won’t understand any of that.

“If I agree, and you go back on your word, I’ll leave and never come back,” I threaten.

His eyes narrow. “Do you honestly think that’s a threat? Leave if you want. Your mother did.”

“Did you ever bother to look for her?” I ask him.

“Fine, you want the truth? You’re eighteen, and I’m tired of this charade. I paid her to leave. A lot. That’s how much you meant to her. She took the money and never looked back.”

“Why?” I ask, my voice wavering, but I refuse to cry in front of him.

“Because she was holding me back. Unlike Camille, she thought I should be faithful to her. She did initially want to take you, but it was a much better look for me to be the doting father sacrificing for his daughter than a man whose family left him.”

“You’re a monster,” I whisper.

“No, I’m just ambitious. You’ll understand someday. You’ll end up with Walter Carrington’s son, Jace, or another emerging businessman. Someone who will benefit from being associated with me, and vice versa. Ford will be a distant memory, and you’ll fill the role I’ve been raising you for. No one is going to want you if you’re tainted by gutter trash like Ford Shaw.”

“If you need me so badly, why would you accept me running away?” I ask. I guess I’m a glutton for punishment today.

He laughs like what I’m saying is truly funny. “Please. You’re just like your mother. If I throw enough money your way you’ll do what I want.”

“Fuck you,” I snarl.

“Save me the theatrics. I’ll even be kind. You can dump him after his mother comes home. Not a minute longer though.”

“I hate you,” I snap back.

“I genuinely don’t care. Do as you’re told, or I will have him behind bars. Don’t test me on this,” he says, pointing his finger in my face.

He turns and walks away first. It takes me a couple of minutes because I’m shaking too bad to rejoin Ford like this. I want to push all of this out of my mind. Somehow live in the fantasy that he won’t do what he just threatened, but I know without a doubt he absolutely will. He has me backed into a corner, and if I don’t submit, he’ll ruin Ford.

When I go back, Ford is focused on his mother. Even with her lack of concern for him over the last few months, no doubt my father’s influence, he still loves her.

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