Page 83 of Parker
“Should I have? Is there something I can help you with?” I say, feigning confidence.
He laughs out loud. A broad grin explodes across his face. He shakes his head, wiping tears from his eyes.
“Oh, darling, you’re going to be begging me to help you. Who’s the father?”
The change of subject takes me by surprise, and I stare at him mutely.
“I said who’s the father?” He nudges my swollen belly with his finger.
Knowing that telling him Joel is the father would be a mistake, I lie.
“A one-night stand,” I stutter. “Drunken night out. I don’t know his name. I’ve never seen him again.”
“Lying bitch,” he growls, drawing his hand back. It cracks across my cheek. The room tilts sideways as my face explodes with pain. I won’t cry. He’s not getting the fucking satisfaction. “There was me thinking we could work together. Is that Parker’s little bastard you’re carrying? Can’t imagine he would let anyone else close enough to touch you, never mind knock you up.”
He grabs my wrists and pulls me to my feet. “Listen to me, whore. I worked for that family for years, decades, and never got the recognition I deserved. I want what’s mine. Years of being overlooked by Evander Parker and now your husband…”
“Ex-husband, you know that,” I snap, interrupting him. He glowers at me. I expect a second blow, but it doesn’t come.
“Ex-husband or not, Joel Parker still considers you very much his possession. “The fact I have you will be killing him. And that’s what I want. That bastard standing in front of me begging. Begging me for mercy,” Drayton gloats, his chest puffed out as if he’s won some sort of award.
“Joel and I aren’t together,” I tell him. “He has a new partner. You’ll have seen them in the papers.”
He laughs again. “You mean Ebony?”
“Yes.”
“If she went missing, I doubt he would lose too much sleep. It was all a PR stunt.”
My stomach lurches. He says it with such certainty, like he knows it’s a fact, which I know he does. The thought had crossed my mind, but I couldn’t believe it. Joel moved on, so I could too.
“She kind of looks like you,” he adds, “More refined. Perhaps he saw it as upgrading in the eyes of the media.” The old fears that I fought for years return.You’re not good enough.Outsiders saw her as his upgrade. I was a broken version of what he needed, and now, he has the premium model.
“How long have I been here?” I ask, trying to change the subject, not wanting to think about Joel with her, whether the relationship was real or not.
“Three days.” He gives me a dark look. “You won’t remember anything. We’ve been keeping you quiet. It’s amazing what medication can do these days. But don’t worry, you’ve been locked in here the whole time. It’s been a bit of a chore getting you to use that.” He signals to the bucket. “The men did have other ideas, but I couldn’t have them having their fun with a pregnant lady. Just wouldn’t sit right with me.”
My chest tightens. The blunt truth knocking the little confidence I have. They can do anything to me they want. I’m more vulnerable than I’ve ever been.
“But any other woman’s fair game?” I spit, and he shrugs.
“A man has needs. My men are hardworking and used to getting what they want. If someone takes their fancy, they have very strong persuasion techniques. Especially if the lady isn’t one hundred percent willing.” He pulls a packet of cigarettes from his back pocket and lights up.
“Want one?”
I shake my head.
“Does Joel know I’m here?” He smirks, then continues to puff away happily. “What happens now?”
“We wait. The video of you lying beaten up in the bed will do the trick. A man like him has endless resources in lots of high places. He’ll find us, and when he does, we’ll be ready for him.” He throws the cigarette on the floor, then stubs it out with a heavy black boot. “Anyway, I must be going. Things to do.”
He turns his back on me. I take my chance. Grabbing the wooden chair, I swing it with all my strength, hitting him hard on the back.
He stumbles but doesn’t hit the ground. Turning to face me, his eyes blaze with fury. “Fucking bitch!” His voice drops to anevil whisper. “There was me thinking we could be friends again after our amicable conversation.”
He stalks toward me, grabbing my wrists, then throws me backward, hard against the wall. Something crunches, my teeth snapping together as pain flares in my spine.
My son. I fall to the ground, cradling my bump. Please move, baby. I need to know you’re all right.
