Page 61 of The Weekend Getaway

“Mia, our future is at stake,” Alex said.

“What are you talking about?” Worried, Mia stared at him. Moments ago, he’d left the bedroom where she and Grace had brought him, after they’d discovered Sarah and Phil, lying in bed, unconscious, their bodies twisted in bloody sheets.

When he’d returned, Chris and Jason were with him.

“Look, this situation is fucked up,” Alex said, lowering his voice. “But, it doesn’t have to be. Not for Phil. And not for us. If we play our cards right, we can make this work for us. Phil messed up, but we can use his mistakes to our advantage … “

“How?” Mia asked, not sure she wanted to know. Alex was always full of plans. Always had some scheme or scam up his sleeve. Some dark and treacherous idea Mia wasn’t sure shewanted to be part of, but always went along with because she couldn’t risk Alex’s anger, couldn’t take the chance that he would drop her.

Alex was tall, good-looking, and sexy. Lots of girls wanted him, even though he wasn’t rich, but Mia was quite certain he could manipulate an energy heiress into taking a chance on him, allowing him to marry into a family of wealth and privilege where he would connive and deceive and eventually assume power.

All Mia had going for her was her looks and her willingness to do Alex’s bidding. Whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it, however, he wanted. Even if she didn’t like it. Especially if she didn’t like it, as Alex got off on her reluctance. Her hesitation turned him on.

With so little at her disposal to keep him, she couldn’t balk at any suggestion he made.

And it wasn’t like they hadn’t schemed together before.

There had been the time when Alex was going to fail a class, and he’d needed Mia to drug the professor and take racy pictures with him while he was knocked out. The man didn’t have tenure yet but he had a wife, three kids, and was active in his church. With the threat of being exposed as a deviant with a teenager, since Mia was only nineteen, he’d given in to the blackmail and gave Alex a passing grade.

Alex said, “Like I said, all I need you to do is convince Sarah not to go to the cops and tell them what Phil did to her,” Alex said. “Get Grace to help you.”

A jolt passed through Mia, making her feel weak, and as though her bowels would loosen and she would shit herself. “But what if we can’t convince Sarah? What if she wants to tell the police?—”

“Convince her not to go to the cops,” Alex said, tightening his grip on her arm as he pulled her closer to the French doors. “The only way my plan works is if Sarah keeps her fucking mouth shut. You need to help me do that.”

Mia sighed. “What are you going to tell Mr. Richart?”

“I’ll assure him that we can keep Phil out of trouble,” Alex said. “He’ll want to keep his son’s name out of the news. Can’t have Phil known as the Richart Rapist.”

“But that’s what he is,” Mia said, clinging to Alex, glancing at him, silently pleading with him to change his mind about what he wanted to do. Wishing he would, for once, do the right thing. The honorable, decent thing. They needed to take Sarah to the police so she could file a complaint against Phil. They needed to take her to a hospital so she could have a rape kit done to preserve evidence.

Alex said, “He’s also the son of a billionaire. A powerful man who will pay to make sure his family’s name isn’t sullied.”

Disappointed, Mia asked, “What if Mr. Richart refuses to pay you?”

Alex said, “You let me worry about that.”

Mia shook her head. “I don’t know about this. I don’t think?—”

“I don’t need you to fucking think,” Alex said, his voice an enraged whisper. “I need you to make sure Sarah stays quiet. And if you need to be convinced to do what I need you to do, then know this … what happened to Sarah is your fault, Mia.”

CHAPTER 57

Fifteen Years Ago

3:56 a.m.

Alex

“You think what happened to Sarah is … my fault?” Mia sputtered.

A macabre thrill of pleasure snaked through Alex as he stared at Mia. Her expression changed from slightly challenging, with a hint of defiance, to confused fear.

His hand shook as he fought the urge to clinch his fingers into a fist and slam it into her face, leaving a shiny, purplish bruise, punishment for her thoughts of disobedience. He did not need Mia, of all fucking people, questioning his plan, especially when what he was doing would benefit her, as well. Not that she was smart enough to realize that. Not that he expected her to understand how they could capitalize on this moment.

Mia was a trailer park slut who was lucky he’d even glanced her way. He was only stuck with her because of his own misfortune of birth, having been born into a broke family of laboring men who didn’t have the cunning or the ambition to machinate their way out of poverty. His father, grandfather, uncles, brothers, and cousins subscribed to the belief that everyone had a set lot in life, and if you were born below the poverty line, that was where you belonged. There was no need trying to rise above it. “Play the game with the cards you’re dealt,” his grandfather, a wizened old leathery-faced man with broken teeth, would tell him.

Fuck that, Alex had always thought.

---