“Kacey. Go.” Michael’s words were barely contained fury. She couldn’t leave him there like that. Not with enough raw, powerful emotion to do something irreparable.
Enough damage had already been done.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“NO, MICHAEL.” TWO WORDS had never made him feel so powerless. Standing there in his office, with the woman he loved—yes, damn it, loved—knowing what she’d been through... Those fiends had touched her physically—those beautiful, tender breasts—injured her emotionally, and he was the one who’d inadvertently let her walk into his office with no warning and confront her attacker...
He’d have given his life to spare her that.
His own brother.
He felt like he was going to throw up. Or punch someone until there was little left to recognize.
Despair weighed him down. Willie. He’d spent ten years after the accident loving the kid. Believing in him. Only to bring them to this?
“I’m not leaving you two here alone.”
Kacey sounded far more in control than he felt. But he knew what she did—she hid behind Doria. He prayed to God that the fictional character had what it took to see her through this.
His baby brother had attacked the woman he loved.
What did a man do with that?
“I’m calling the police,” he said.
“No.” Kacey’s instant and not at all friendly response kicked him back again. She looked at Willie.
“Look at me,” she said. The boy, who was still crying, shook his head. “You will look at me, damn it,” she said. “I’m not moving until you do. I deserve that much.”
Slowly, shaking, Willie raised his head.
“I said look at me.” The words were clearly and separately delivered.
The teenager’s head came up higher. But Michael knew that Willie wouldn’t give her what she wanted. He couldn’t.
“Higher.”
He didn’t recognize the bite in her tone. And couldn’t guess at how much this was costing her. How much of her light would be forever dimmed because of it?
“That’s my chin. Look. At. Me.”
This was futile. He had to call the police. To get his kid brother out of the room, away from Kacey, behind bars. He had to get her out of Santa Raquel before the darkness took over.
Willie lifted his gaze. He looked Kacey right in the eye. He was crying. But he didn’t look away.
“I want you to remember this moment,” Kacey said. “I want it to be a reminder to you, every second of every day for the rest of your life, how horrible it feels.”
There was no belligerence in the droop of Willie’s shoulders, the trembling of his chin, the degradation in his eyes.
“Now look at your brother. Look him in the eye. And say what you have to say.”
“I’m calling the police,” Mike said before his brother could disobey her command. The boy would not take another ounce of Kacey’s power. Ever.
“No,” Kacey said. “You need me to identify him or you have nothing to tell them.”
“You already did.” Had she forgotten? What did she think they were doing here?
“It’s your word against mine.”