I’ve seen him mad before, when we were kids. Our parents are friends and we’d see each other on holidays, during the Super Bowl, stuff like that. He’d come to my birthday parties and I’d go to his, at least until we got older and only wanted our school friends to come around. We went to different private schools—his were fancier and much more elite than mine—and ran in different circles.
But we knew each other. We were even friends. And I remember him having these temper tantrums when he didn’t get his way, these horrible, screaming moments of pure rage. Once, I beat him at basketball, and he threw the ball into a lake and tore his shirt to ribbons in pure fury.
I don’t remember him doing that as we got older, but now that I’m looking him in the eye and he’s trembling, I wonder if he ever really stopped or if he only learned how to control it.
“You are nothing.” He says the words softly, but sharply. He moves closer. “You are a fucking ant, Marie. You and your fucking loser father. You’re a couple of classless, jumped-up peasants, with your dirty fingernails and your disgusting, tasteless manners. You’re worthless. You should’ve been worshiping at my goddamn feet for the chance to be my wife, and instead, you fucked me.”
“I didn’t fuck you.” I tilt my chin up, trying not to let him see how afraid I am right now. “You fucked yourself.”
“You’re dead, Marie. I’m going to ruin you. I’m going to burn you to the ground and my father’s going to do the same to your father. We’re going to make sure your family suffers and never recovers, because you stained the Crawford name, and we haven’t gotten to where we are by letting little bugs like you get away with embarrassing us in public.”
“You should’ve just admitted it,” I say, staring into his face, feeling my own heat rise to match my fear. “You should’ve just said the truth instead of trying to deny it. You’re a cheating asshole and everything Bella Baby wrote was true. You deserved—”
He cocks back his arm and slaps me across the face so hard I see lights. I gasp, my face turning to the side, and my head knocks against the brick wall behind me. He snarls and hits me again, backhanding me across the mouth, and I scream in pain and terror. William stands over me as I cower back, holding my bruised lips, blinking up at him to try to clear the lights from my eyes, but he’s seething and his hands are in fists, and I’m sure he’s going to beat me to death here and now, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
His fist cocks back, but someone grabs it from behind. William grunts in surprise as he’s yanked back off balance and I stand, staring as Ansell punches my former fiancé so hard in the mouth that William drops to the ground in a heap.
“You don’t touch women like that,” Ansell says, standing over him, radiating a frozen fury. He’s so calm, almost unnaturally calm, as William slowly gets to his knees, and then to his feet. “You certainly don’t touch my employees.”
“Stay the fuck out of this,” William says through his teeth. “I know who you are. Ansell Drake, you jumped-up thug.”
Ansell steps forward and William flinches back. “That’s right. That’s exactly what I am. Think about what you’re going to say next.”
William’s jaw works. He’s bugged out, raging so hard he’s nearly mindless, and yet something in him regains control. He steps back, away from Ansell, and looks at me.
“You’re dead, Marie. Do you understand me? I’m going to find you and I’m going to strangle the life from your pathetic little throat, and I’m going to enjoy every second.”
“Leave now before I hurt you again.” Ansell remains still, radiating strength, standing between me and William.
But William keeps staring at me for another second before turning and striding off into the rapidly forming crowd.
I lean back against the brick and sigh, sliding down to the ground, leaning my face into my hands. I sob once, pathetic, hurting, unsure what I’m going to do now.
William’s going to kill me. I fully believe he’ll do it and he’ll get away. The only reason I’m still alive, or at least not battered into a pulp, is Ansell Drake. And I can’t rely on Ansell showing up to save me.
“Come with me.”
I look at my boss’s cold stare. There’s no pity in his eyes. There’s no softness. But there is a spark, something sharp and intense, and undeniable.
“Where?” I ask quietly, almost whispering.
“To my apartment. You can stay there for tonight.”
I stare at him in surprise. He doesn’t move, only looms above me, before reaching out a hand.