Page 144 of When Hearts Awaken

Everything hurts so much—memories of the innocent sixteen-year-old living inside me, the all-encompassing emotions I feel for the man before me—it’s almost too much for me to bear.

But amid everything, one voice rings true inside my mind.

I’m Taylor Peyton-Anderson, a fighter, a survivor, and my nightmare is finally over.

Chapter 59

The media is relentless.

“Charles, Taylor, how are you dealing with the fallout from Sir Ian being arrested?”

“How do you feel about him pleading not guilty and his claim that your partial recording is made from coercion?”

“Do you have a Plan B if the court throws out the recording?”

“Taylor, how can you stay with the nephew of your rapist?”

“Are you worried this case may impact your company?”

Gritting my teeth, I ignore the vultures as I help Taylor out of the car. The paparazzi have been relentless for the last two weeks after we finally learned the truth of what happened to Taylor all those years ago. We’ve both taken time off work to process everything.

Taylor connected Maddy with Olivia, who’d help the girl find a good therapist. My minx has also been calling Maddy every other day to check on her.

I sent my cell phone recording to the authorities. But unfortunately, it was a partial recording because my cell phone broke in the scuffle and that was all the tech guys could recover. Elias and Emerson are still combing through Archambeau’s hard drives right now, no doubt hacking their way inside, but that may take some time. Maddy is willing to testify against Ian and her rapist, but our lawyers have advised us the defense may push back, saying she accepted monetary gifts among other things and didn’t come forward when the assault happened.

They never believe the women.

That was what Taylor told me before, and seeing it unfold in front of me, even with the Anderson and Vaughn influences and resources, I know it was a hundred times worse for her back then.

It sickens me to the core.

There are still too many men from that night unaccounted for—the other sick bastards who did unspeakable acts to other women, but unfortunately, Ian has done a one eighty since he was arrested. He isn’t talking. My guess is, he’s afraid of The Association. After all, the bastard who spiked Taylor’s drink was murdered in jail. Rumor has it he wanted to give up names for a more lenient sentence. And Ian killed Archambeau—The Association surely wouldn’t be okay with that.

Taylor has been quiet these days. But sometimes, I’ll catch her staring out the window as the news plays in the background, a haunted look in her eyes. The news has been reporting the latest updates on the case and the likelihood of Ian being convicted. I know she’s worried.

It makes me wish I killed him that day. I know she didn’t want his blood on my hands, but every time I think about what the bastard did to her, I want to break into prison and personally shove a shank up his ass.

Then, there are the other sickos still out there, hiding under the cloak of The Association, which will be impossible to take down given the group isn’t even a legal entity. All these issues keep me up at night and I find myself tugging Taylor close to me as I stare at the dark ceiling, my mind swirling with fury and grappling with the recent events on top of the complete betrayal I have toward my uncle.

It’s a devastation I can’t describe, to find out you don’t really know a person you thought you knew well.

How can someone so loyal and kind to me and my siblings also be capable of such horrific acts?

I don’t think I’ll ever understand.

But as I stare at the woman bravely facing the cameras, her head held high, her gaze defiant, I’m also hit with an overwhelming sense of love and admiration. This warrior, her soul crushed and body scarred, is still standing up tall. She has chosen to love me, to believe in me, to be with me.

Taylor glances at me, her brow arched high as she stops in front of the crowd of reporters. Narrowing her eyes, she snatches the microphone from the nearest reporter.

My lips twitch. Badass Taylor, no finesse as always.

“Aren’t you guys asking the wrong questions?” she says as the cameras flash around her.

I stride to her and curl my arm around her waist, biting back a smile at the fierceness in her voice.

Taylor continues, “Am I the only person who’s capable of understanding Charles is his own person and has nothing to do with the actions of his uncle? Why is this even a question?”

They hurl more questions at her but she raises her hand and says firmly, “I’m not done. The bastard has taken enough of my life from me and I won’t entertain him taking more of my time. Your focus should be on the other women who have spoken up, the other victims who haven’t had justice. Those are your stories, not me and Charles.”

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