Page 8 of Deserving Maisy
Maisy turned toward the door without another word. She felt sick inside. She didn’t know what to do. If she admitted to Jack what was going on, he’d leave in a heartbeat…if Jason even let him out of the house, which she doubted. But if she went along with her brother’s scheme, she was as bad as he was.
“Maisy?”
At the door, she turned to look back at her brother.
“Don’t fuck this up. You won’t like the consequences if you do. And once we have this money, you can get your own place. I know you’ll like that.”
Oh, he was good. The old Maisy would be thrilled at the bait he’d just dangled in front of her. But now that her eyes were finally opened, now that the fog of the drugs had faded, screw an apartment of her own. All she could think of was getting the hell away from the evil that was her brother. Getting out of the state.
She nodded obediently because it was what was expected of her.
“Good. Glad we’re on the same page. And, Maise?”
She wished he’d just shut up and let her leave. Sheneeded some time to think. To try to figure out a way to save not only herself, but Jack as well. He might be a stranger, but when he’d touched her, she’d felt…a connection.
He didn’t deserve what was happening to him. She might be complicit in a lot of things her brother had done, but she’d do whatever she could to help her “husband,” no matter what the consequences turned out to be.
“When he asks questions you’re too dumb to answer with something convincing, suck his dick and spread your legs. Sex works wonders as a distraction.”
Bile rose in Maisy’s throat, and she quickly walked through the door and shut it quietly behind her.
She leaned against it and shut her eyes, her mind spinning. For the first time in years, she wished her parents hadn’t been wealthy. Maybe if they hadn’t had millions of dollars in the bank, they wouldn’t be dead. She’d be married for real, with a family, and her brother wouldn’t have turned into a monster. Money had its perks, but she wouldn’t wish her life on anyone.
“Hey there, sexy.”
The three words had Maisy’s eyes popping open and pushing away from the door.
Don Coffey stood way too close to her, leering. He was one of the many men Jason “worked with”…and someone who had always given Maisy the creeps.
“Jason’s in there,” she said, gesturing toward the office with her hand.
“Thanks. You want to meet up later?”
Maisy shuddered. Don was always hitting on her, and it made her feel the need for a shower. “Sorry, busy,” she told him.
His eyes narrowed. “One of these days, you’re gonna regret turning me down.”
That definitely sounded like a threat. Don was a big man. Tall at six-three, and muscular. Jason told her once that he took steroids to stay so bulky, and she didn’t doubt that for a second. If he wanted to, he could seriously hurt her. She’d always tried to stay out of his way.
Maisy wasn’t sure why her brother didn’t just have one of his friends marry her. It would be a lot less risky than kidnapping a stranger. She could only guess it was because his friends were just like him. The possibility that they’d double-cross or blackmail him after the deed was done was high. They weren’t exactly model citizens and would probably do anything necessary to get more money.
Maisy didn’t respond to Don’s comment, simply sidled around him, trying not to touch him in the hallway, and headed for the stairs.
“That’s an ass I wanna tap.”
It was obvious Don wanted her to hear his crude comment, but she didn’t react, simply kept walking up the stairs. She needed to get out of here. Even though she didn’t have any money, she’d leave today if she could. But now there was Jack. She wouldn’t leave him in this viper’s nest. She’d do her best to convince him that they were a loving couple, do this farce of a vow renewal ceremony, then play things by ear.
Three months. That’s all she needed. After that, she’d be free. Jason could have her money. She just wanted out.
She slipped back into her bedroom and her eyes immediately went to the man lying on the bed. He had one arm flung to the side and his head rolled back and forth in agitation. It looked as if he was having a nightmare.
Wincing, because it was likely he was probably dreaming about something her asshole of a brother had done, Maisy hurried to the side of the bed. She sat on the mattress and put her hand on the arm that was by his side.
He startled at her touch, and Maisy questioned what she was doing. He could hurt her through no fault of his own, if his dream was violent. But when a whimper left his lips, she leaned toward him as if drawn by the vulnerable sound.
“It’s okay. You’re okay,” she murmured.
To her surprise, his eyes popped open, but his gaze was unfocused. “Don’t. Please don’t! No more…Hurts.”
