Page 110 of Dirty Grovel

She takes another bite of macaroni. “Not bullied, but… persuaded. Coerced.” She sighs. “Palmer women don’t have very good judgement when it comes to men. Especially ones we’re in love with.”

“Sutton knows her own mind. She’s a smart, strong, capable woman. She said yes to me because she wanted to. No other reason.”

Sydney bites her lip and glances out the window at the wealth of clouds passing by just below us. “It feels so surreal, being on a plane without Paul. I’ve never flown without him.”

“He kept you on a tight leash.”

“That’s how rich men operate with their women.”

“Not all rich men. I’m afraid you’ve just been exposed to the wrong kind.”

“That’s the only kind I’m attracted to, apparently.” She wrings her hands together, abandoning her food. “Do you really care about my sister?”

I nod, locking eyes with her. “Very much.”

“And you’re not going to mistreat her?” she asks. “Lock her in a room and throw away the key? Beat her? Control her? Demean and ridicule her?”

I notice the bruising on her arm. It’s probably not the only place he hurt her.

Those wounds will heal, though—it’s the ones no one can see that tend to linger.

“I will do my utmost to make sure she’s happy. I want her to have freedom and purpose. I am a man of control, but I don’t wish to control Sutton. As for beating her—only a weak man would do that to his woman. And I am not a weak man.” I lean back in my seat. “You can rest easy, Sydney, I plan on taking care of your sister. I plan on taking care of you, too.”

She winces and turns her face down toward her lap. “You won’t feel that way if you knew the truth about me.”

“What truth is that?”

“That it’s all my fault,” she blurts, her eyes watering.

She bites down and the tears disappear with all the suppression tactics of someone who’s spent their life burying difficult emotions deep below the surface.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but I’m willing to bet that it’s not your fault.”

She sighs. “I used to pride myself on being the protective big sister. I used to believe that I was shielding Sutton from the worst of what we had to endure. But the truth is that that was just as much of a story as the fairy tales that Sutton used to devour.” Her jaw trembles with the weight of her confession.“Ultimately, I’m the one who put Sutton right in harm’s way. In fact, I pushed her into his arms.”

My hands tighten around the arm rests. “You’re talking about Drew.”

She nods. “I was a naïve fool for trusting Paul. He assured me that Drew was a good guy. If I had been just a little bit smarter, I’d have realized that a guy like Paul wouldn’t know a good guy if he walked up to him and punched him in the face.” She composes herself, then continues. “I introduced Sutton to Drew and then I had to watch while that asshole reeled her in and then treated my baby sister like shit. The first time they fought, I confronted Paul about it. That was the first time he hit me.” She pales suddenly. “Shit, don’t tell Sutton that. She doesn’t know it was because of her.”

“She won’t hear it from me.”

Sydney sighs with relief. “It felt like that first hit opened Pandora’s box. After that, the hits just kept on coming. I managed to keep it from Sutton for a full year before she finally caught on. She really let me have it that day—she cried, begged, pleaded with me to leave him. I just downplayed it, told her that it wasn’t so bad, that I had started it. I even told her I’d gotten in a few punches of my own. I didn’t want her to worry, obviously. But it was more than that,” she says. “I guess a part of me felt like… like I deserved it.”

Anger courses through me. “No one deserves to be treated like that, Sydney.”

She attempts a half-hearted smile. “If you knew what Sutton suffered with Drew, you might think differently.”

“You didn’t mean to hand her to a monster.”

“Does it matter what I meant?” she asks harshly. “The end result was that she suffered for it. I guess, in my head, Paul beating on me was the universe’s method of payback.”

I bite back all the things I’d like to say. After this shit is done and I’ve dealt with Anton and the Martineks, I really need to get the Palmer girls a decent shrink.

“Don’t worry,” she says as though she knows exactly what I’m thinking. “I know that’s not how life works. If payback were a thing, then the streets would be littered with dead assholes and the women they hurt would be walking all over them in five-inch Blahniks.”

I snort, picturing that scene with vivid clarity. “Hey, I’d wear five-inch heels, too, if it meant I got to stomp all over Drew Anton.”

A bubble of laughter busts out of her. “I’ll give you this,” she murmurs as though she’s talking to herself. “You do seem different from the rest…”

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