Page 74 of My Grumpy Billionaire Protector

Cory’s lips lift up into a half-smile. “Look, man. I know you think it’s going to be different, and I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you, but you need a reality check. Even if she is starting to believe this has nothing to do with you, what do you think is going to happen when we all get out of here? She’s not going to want anything to do with the man who is Isaiah’s business partner.”

I glare at him. “I don’t need you to tell me all the reasons why it’s not going to work because I already know, and I’ve told Evie too.”

Cory throws his hands up in the air. “So, what is the problem?”

“Maybe she’s right, and I’m not supposed to protect Isaiah,” I murmur, averting my gaze and staring at a fixed spot on the wall. “Do you remember what I was like when they rescued me? The first few months, I mean?”

“The entire first year,” Cory corrects with a grimace. “Yeah, I remember. It was shit.”

For months, I shuffled around like a zombie, only able to muster up grunts and short phrases. Other than that, I spent a lot of time on Cory’s couch, staring at the wall or in the throes of my nightmares, seeing Rafael’s cold, lifeless body on the ground. On the few occasions when I did relax, I was restless and unable to stand being in my own skin.

Thankfully, Cory stuck by my side through it all, which hadn’t been surprising. The two of us grew up side by side and saw each other through many family vacations and long drawn-out dinners with relatives who fussed and pinched our cheeks.

But supporting me through one of the darkest times of my life was completely different.

Sometimes, I wondered if Cory would’ve taken me in had he known that the Shane who’d been taken wasn’t the same Shane who’d returned home after a year in a dark and damp dungeon, being paraded around in front of a slew of the worst kinds of people.

For ten years, I’ve carried those memories around with me like shackles tied to my feet, and I’ve never forgotten the weight of them.

“Why are you asking?” Cory peers at me, his eyebrows drawing together. “When we get out of this, I can take you to a shrink. Let’s just focus on what we need to do, okay? I’m close.”

I nod. “Okay, good. Don’t worry. I know what I have to do.”

“Are you sure?”

I stand up straighter and shove the memories out of my mind. “Yeah, I guess I was just thinking about the past a lot and wondering how I got here.”

“Evie got inside your head,” Cory realizes, his entire expression transforming into one of confusion. “Man, I have never seen you question Isaiah before. I mean, he’s never done anything this shady before, but you know that he isn’t the only one who is going to suffer. He has a stake in the company.”

“I know.”

“Unless we can somehow convince the governor to drop the charges, but I doubt he’s going to do that unless Evie does. And I doubt she’s going to.”

I run a hand over my face. “I know all of that, Cory. I don’t need you to tell me any of this. I know that when we get out of here, whatever is happening between Evie and me won’t matter. She’s going to do what she needs to do, and I’m going to do what I need to do.”

Cory harrumphs.

“Why didn’t you make me go in?”

Cory gives me a blank look.

“That night ten years ago, when we stood outside my parent’s house, and it was snowing, and we saw them through the window… why didn’t you make me go in?”

“I couldn’t force it on you, man. I knew you were a different person then, and your parents would’ve expected you to slip right back into old habits.”

I tilt my head to the side and study his face. “What if they didn’t?”

Cory’s expression turns weary. “I don’t have those kinds of answers, cuz. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you’d gone in.”

Would I have been a different person?

Happier?

Less damaged and broken?

The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that it wouldn’t have mattered. The Shane who grew up in a house in the suburbs and was provided with a good life full of opportunities was not the same Shane who stood outside his parents’ house and made the decision not to return. Sometimes, I wonder what would’ve happened if my parents had tried to reach me and coax me back into old, familiar habits but it was better that they hadn’t.

For both our sakes.

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