Page 41 of Alliance

I repeat the words in my mind like a mantra.

I’m not going down without a fight.

“I heard about your littlescenewhile dress shopping.” There’s a smirk playing on Davis’ face when he sits next to me. The love seat in my parents’ living room suddenly feels crowded.

Instantly, my heels press against the ground, ready to push me to a standing position, my flight response kicking in.

Davis reaches across my thighs, effortlessly pushing me back down so my ass hits the cushions. “No,” he growls under his breath.

Behind us somewhere, his mother is talking to mine about wedding details while our fathers’ bicker over sports. Each of them acts like nothing else is going on here, like there’snothing wrong.While I feel like a thousand-pound weight is pressed to my chest. Maybe for his parents, this is normal. What if they don’t even know what kind of terrible person they raised? They’ve never seen the marks his fingers can make. Never seen the tick in his jaw when he gets angry.

Later, they’ll go to Davis’ brothers for their second Christmas Eve celebration of the night, dragging me along. I don’t get choices anymore, just orders delivered through text messages.

I suck in a breath, hoping the oxygen will settle me. I refuse to cower next to him. I don’t want to be the type of woman who shrinks next to a man, so I steel my spine and try to mentally block him out.

“Lana,” he coos, in the sickly-sweet voice that experience has proven means something else. This man isn’t sweet, he puts on a show right before he says something menacing.

There’s a quick moment where I remember the feeling of my body hitting the tiled floor when he pushed me, the trickle of blood running down my forehead. I shove the memory away, not allowing my emotions to take over.

“We don’t have to talk,” I say, in the harshest voice I can muster while still avoiding his eyes.

He chuckles beside me, the sound a deep rumble. “I don’t think you understand how this works, doll.”

It takes everything in me to stay strong, to not turn my gaze, or squirm under his scrutiny. He leans in closer to me, his breath skating over my neck. He shifts my hair out of the way with a single finger as he brings his lips to my ear.

“You do whatever the fuck I tell you. Do you understand that?”

I flinch, and immediately I scold myself for the show of weakness.

Maybe I’m not strong, maybe I’m not a warrior. It takes every ounce of energy I have to pull myself together.

“No,” I mutter. “I don’t.” I turn my head, meeting his gaze for the first time. “I would have to respect you for that to happen.”

His gaze darkens, it feels like something shifts, his patience snapping. And before I can register what’s happening, his hand darts forward, closing the space between us as his fingers wrap around my throat.

He stands pulling me up with him as he rises. My fingers come to his grasp, tugging at his skin trying to pull him off me, but it doesn’t stop him. His other hand comes to my neck, joining the first in squeezing the delicate flesh.

Somewhere in the background I hear a gasp and the footsteps, but they’re not coming toward me. The door swings and closes, and I become suddenly aware that no one is coming to my rescue. Not even my own mother.

I guess power does that to you.

The lure of it is so delicious that you would sacrifice anything.

And for my mother, my worth equals whatever I can provide her. I’m just a bargaining chip, a game piece meant to take her further in life. And right now, I’m getting in the way of her plans.

It’s becoming harder to breathe as his fingers dig into my neck. My head becomes foggy, a pain shooting through it. I’m terrified, but a sick part of me wants him to squeeze harder. Wants him to squeeze every ounce of life from me.

At least that way, I won’t have to do this anymore.

“You don’t get a say, Lana,” he says the words with such venom that spit flies from his lips and hits my skin.

I close my eyes, sinking into the feeling of being unable to breathe, trying not to struggle.

Just let it happen.

“That was rude, ruining that dress. Do you know whose pocket that came out of?” He brings his lips to my ear, his breath warming the skin there. “I told your parents I would cover it, said I had overstepped. And you know what they did, Lana?” I can feel his lips curl upward, his face so close to mine. “They apologized.” He laughs, a low rumble. “I hit you, and they apologized. So whatever you’re thinking in this silly head of yours, let it go, baby. No one gives a fuck.”

But before I sink off into oblivion, he lets go.

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