Page 44 of I Will Break You

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Page 44 of I Will Break You

When he reached out to touch my shoulder, I ran.

It’s nearly impossible to get lost in Queen’s Gardens, since it’s a gated community of mansions surrounded by high fences. Asecurity guard picked me up hours later and delivered me to my father, who wasn’t the least bit angry that I’d bolted.

He took me into his study, sat me down on the leather sofa, poured me a glass of scotch, and made me drink. I was ten years old, and the only alcohol I’d ever tasted was my mother’s rum and raisin ice cream.

My father reported that I’d put my brother in a coma and asked what I thought the older two would do when they returned from middle school.

You need to understand that I lived in a constant state of stress. I had enemies at school, but the worst were at home. Only three people alive in the world saw me as worthy of life: the housekeeper and her two daughters.

When I didn’t answer, he outlined how his sons would exact their revenge. His tone was calm, almost detached, as if he wasn’t detailing my gruesome demise.

I was drunk, terrified, and wanted to throw up. I pictured him standing by with my stepmother, watching the brothers beat me to death.

Then he made me an offer that he would come to regret.

Xero

P.S. The toy should have arrived by now. Let me know if you don’t get it by Friday, and I’ll commission another mold.

TWENTY-SIX

AMETHYST

After picking up my prescription, I walk over to Wonderland. Wonderland is a sex supermarket designed to look like a red room of pain with its black furniture and scarlet walls. It sells everything from dirty books to dungeon furniture, including fetish clothes and toys.

Myra appears from behind a table crammed with dildos, only to disappear behind a pair of mannequins dressed head to toe in leather. I try the door, but it’s locked, so I knock on the glass.

Up until last year, Myra worked for a literary agent, but then her boss was caught embezzling clients’ funds. The entire team got fired, including Myra. No other company in the industry would employ her after the scandal, forcing her to give up her downtown studio. Now, Myra does this part-time gig to pay off her student loans while she builds her freelance business.

The owner of Wonderland made her audition for this new job in one of their basement playrooms, where she discovered he’s a Dom with a pierced cock. Apparently, he’s really hot, comes from old money, and lives in a mansion at the top of Alderney Hill. He’s our age, and his family owns all the stores on this block. She thinks he’s the ultimate catch, but I can’t get over his red flags.

What kind of man demands kinky sex from a woman to qualify her for a job?

This is where Myra and I are different. I have sexual hangups and she’s a free spirit. I’m coddled by Mom and Dad, while she’s fiercely independent.

Myra could have turned to her parents for help while she was building up her business. They’re both wealthy lawyers with a real estate business and live in a mansion in Queen’s Gardens. She won’t accept a dime from them because they want her to go to law school, like her older sister, Martina, who’s a high-profile attorney.

When she reappears from behind the mannequins, I knock on the glass again and wave. She startles before jogging over to me with a broad smile. The door opens, letting out a cloud of rosemary and sage.

“What are you doing here?” she asks.

“Just came from the therapist.” I hold up my bag from the pharmacy.

Her smile fades and she moves aside to let me in. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I step into the store and set down my drugs on the counter. “Just wanted to get back on my meds so my mind could sift through what’s real and what isn’t.”

She nods. “Good idea. Are you still seeing ghosts?”

“Dreaming about them, now,” I mutter. “Any word from your boss?”

“Cesare hasn’t called,” she replies with a sigh. “I’m beginning to think he’s found someone else.”

“You said he runs lots of businesses…” I leave the rest of the sentence hanging. A man who has sex with one woman as part of their interview process is likely to do the same with another.

“Maybe he’s found fresh meat,” she replies with a shrug. “I’m already over him. Have you completed the manuscript?”

I shuffle on my feet and grimace. “I have writer’s block.”




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