I decide to try her again, promising myself that if she doesn’t answer, I’ll wait for her to call me. Placing the phone to my ear, I wait for the call to connect; it rings out as if it’s about to divert again, but then she answers. My heart lifts, and my lips stretch.
But there’s silence only on the line. No greeting. No smile down the phone. The one I imagine when she speaks.
“Katie?” I say, confused. “You there?”
“No,” a man’s voice beats. “She’s busy, and don’t bother calling again. She doesn’t want to speak to you.”
“What? Who the fuck are you?”
“Her boyfriend,” he snarls, immediately disconnecting the call.
My heart smashes all over again. The phone goes dark in my grasp. She has a partner; she never told me.
How could she?
Chapter thirty-seven
Katie
“Who was that on the phone?” I ask.
Brad’s eyes stare back, dead like stone. The softness of earlier gone.
“Just a sales call,” he mutters, walking off into the kitchen.
“Are you hungry?” I call after him, tottering behind to catch up. “You must be exhausted after your flight. I can pull something together…”
As I step up behind him, he whirls to face me, grabbing my shoulders between strong hands. It stops my movement dead; my neck cranes backward as he glares down. Every part of me caves inward.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper, lost. Only twenty minutes ago, he was laughing with me in bed after being intimate. Telling me how good I am for him, how he could never live without me. Now, the jackal beneath the kindness is back. And he’s furious.
“What’s wrong?” he spits. “If you don’t know, Katie, then why the fuck should I tell you? Now I know why your ex-husband treated you like a nasty little bitch. You fucking are one.”
My heart drops from my chest. It sits in my stomach heavy, the blood draining, curdling like milk.
“Nothing but a nasty, horrid, cheap bitch.” Each word bites harder than the last, taking chunks of my confidence with it.
“No, no, no,” I cry, my face already smeared with tears. My mind racing, trying to keep up with the whiplash of his moods. “I don’t understand. What’ve I done? Why are you so angry with me?”
“Katie,” he growls. “If you want this to work between us, you need to start treating me with some damn respect. This long-distance thing doesn’t work. You’re coming back to New York with me, no arguments. Start packing.”
“But…”
“No buts, no discussion. You come with me or wave goodbye.” His fingers dig into my flesh. I’m too terrified to move. “And you’ll be waving your career goodbye too.”
“You wouldn’t. I’ve worked too hard…”
He storms into my living room, picks up a small floral ornament Bex gave me years ago, and hurls it against the wall. It was a cheap little thing, but meant the world to me. All I can do is watch as it shatters, scattering across the floor along with the best parts of me. The parts I’ve fought so hard to keep.
He grins; I drop to my knees.
“I’ll do anything to keep you. Anything, and that includes breaking you if you defy me. Your body. Your soul. Your finances. Don’t you see? You have what you do because of me. You would never have come so far without me. You owe me.”
Strands of sweat-ridden hair twist in my fingers as I bow on my floor, the panic surging. His bare feet pad toward me. Iglance up, and he reaches for my head, patting gently like you would a puppy.
As fast as his rage surfaces, his shoulders slump, his demeanor softens in a single beat. “I need you, Katie. And you need me. I’m taking you home.”
He crouches, linking our fingers. We rise together. I look anywhere but at him.