Page 63 of Scar Tissue

He goes still and I know I have him exactly where I need him to be. Hook, line… “There’s nothing out there for me,” I whisper. “Not really…” And sinker.

It’s almost like he’s malevolent, in the way I can feel the shift inthe air. The satisfaction rolling off of him in waves from the validation and the control. It makes my skin crawl.

“Look at me,” he says softly as he tucks his finger under my chin, forcing my head up. “Good girl.” His thumb drags lightly along my jaw, the gesture coming to him naturally from all the times he would do it before either praising me or punishing me. A signal of his ownership. “I knew she was still in there.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” I respond. Letting him believe that the person he molded me into is who I will forever be. That any memory of the girl I was before he took me was gone with the wind, with the past of my parents.

“There’s always a choice, Claire,” he says, his grip on my chin tightening slightly. “You simply tend to make the wrong ones when left to your own devices.”

I let my gaze drop, like I’m ashamed. Like I believe him and that I’ve already given up. But behind the act, my pulse is screaming. He’s too calm, too measured. And while I know he wouldn’t let his anger out here, his level of interest is nearly worse. “You look thin,” he says suddenly, his tone shifting into something almost disapproving. As if he ever provided me enough to allow my teenage body to fill out. The truth is, I’ve actually put on weight and I know he’s testing me for my reaction, to see if I’ll take the bait. “Haven’t been taking care of yourself?”

“I’ve managed,” I reply carefully. I refuse to fall into his trap.

He tuts. “Well, that’s over now. You won’t have tomanageanything anymore.” I don’t have to read between the lines; there’s no room for argument. “Walk with me?”

I simply nod my head as he takes my arm in his and walks us back in the direction of the brunch house. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, Claire?” I let him guide me, my body leaning just enough into his touch to make it seem natural to those around us.

“Never,” I breathe out.

“Then you’d tell me if you took something important from me when you left, wouldn’t you?” His arm suddenly shifts, releasing myown as he rests it against my lower back, right on top of the seam where we’ve sewed the USB inside. This is the moment that is going to set everything into motion.

“I would, and I did.”

He managed to withhold himself from harming me until we got back to his office, but as soon as he closed the door, I had to prepare myself for the backhand I knew was coming. “You know I hate marring your pretty face, my dear girl, but your actions simply cannot go without consequences.” He hits me again, this time using his fist as it curls up into my stomach. The air leaves me in a strangled gasp, doubling me over, but I force my feet to stay planted. “If you were having doubts about us, you didn’t have to hide them from me. I would have taken care of you, protected you.”

I blink up at him, letting my throat catch, letting just the tiniest flicker of longing show in my eyes the same way I used to, the same way he trained me to crave it. My hand presses subtly against the USB that has now shifted to my side with the way my jacket is falling on me. I was surprised he didn’t demand it back right away, but it’s my one source of leverage and possibly the only thing keeping me alive right now. He doesn’t know where it is, and he needs that information. He steps closer again, lowering his hand to brush a strand of hair from my face. “You always think you have to do everything alone, but you don’t. You never did. I could have…guided you. Continued to keep you safe. All you had to do was let me. But instead, you thought you could play at independence, steal from me, and come out unscathed. Foolish girl.

Tell me why you took it.” I don’t need to ask him what he’s referring to before he tacks on, “Why would you steal from your own family? Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

I breathe in deeply through my nose as his patience turns predatory. “I just thought it might keep me safe,” I whisper. “I thought if I had something, anything, that gave me a chance or a way out, I could survive.” The lie doesn’t sound convincing. Out of all of the things tosteal, why would anyone looking for an escape steal a fucking USB? And yet…he seems convinced.

“Survive?” he repeats, pacing the room back and forth in front of me. “Do you think you need to survive outside of me? Outside of what I provide? You’ve always been mine, Claire. You always will be. Why betray that?”

An involuntary shiver runs through me. “Because I needed to know that I could. That even if you weren’t there, someone could help me. That I wasn’t completely alone.”

An unreadable expression crosses his face as he tilts his head. “You? Alone? My dear girl…you’ve never been alone. And yet, here you are, hiding and scheming. Do you even understand the amount of danger you’ve put yourself in?”

“I know. But I couldn’t risk…nothing. I had to try.” That's why he chose me, after all. Because I’m smarter than the others, willing to do what they won’t. And if there is one thing about Harrison Clark, it’s that he loves a challenge.

He chuckles as he reaches inside of his desk before pulling out a syringe filled with the sedative I knew I would be likely to meet before the end of the night. “Always clever, always testing boundaries,” he murmurs. “And yet…still my girl. Even when you steal from me, even when you hide from me…you are mine.” I let the words settle between us, letting him feel the rush of control he believes he has as he injects me. And even though I’m in pain and completely at his mercy when I’d rather be anywhere else, the smile that crosses my face as I succumb to the darkness is anything but fake.

Chapter

Thirty-Six

CLAIRE

Idon’t need to open my eyes to know I’m still in his office. The scent of leather and his cologne is overbearing. My body is sluggish from the drug he slipped me, every movement mocking that of which Sisyphus must have gone through rolling the boulder up the hill. As I move, the sharp scrape of fabric against my skin immediately tells me I’m no longer in my own clothes. They’ve been replaced with what he likes, something he picked because he knows what he wants to see, because he likes possessing every aspect of what I do. It couldn’t just be something simple or practical. It had to be something he knows I would never pick for myself. I open my eyes and note the same shade of green as I was wearing earlier; he has dressed me in a silk blouse with a neckline cut low enough to draw attention. The skirt is tight, hitting just above my knee with a cut that is sharp and calculated to emphasize all the curves that he so desperately wants me to have, that I don’t possess. And the heels—polished, black, and too high for comfort. He knows I’ve never been able to walk in them. He revels in watching me stumble just so he can be the helping hand that prevents me from breaking an ankle. Because if anyone is going to do that, it’s going to be him.

But the part that gets me isn’t the fact that he undressed me, and exposed me to himself and who else knows, but the cruel intimacy of it. He’s not just dressing me, he’s playing with my mind and with the part of me that has always longed for approval. He’s using my previous love for pretty things, something he introduced me to all those years ago, against me now. And as much as I’d like to pretend that I’m strong enough to see through the manipulation, I’m still just a girl who has only ever wanted to be provided for.

“You see,” he murmurs, startling me from his proximity that I didn’t know he created. “This is what you’re meant to be. This is who you are…with me. You’ll never be anything else.” He steps closer, letting his eyes rake over me as though I’m a painting meant to inspire awe and obedience. The drug is still humming through my veins, dulling the edges of my pain and fear, but I don’t let that overtake the focus in my mind. “Now, let me remind you of who you are to me.” He doesn’t rush. Every movement of his is slow as he pulls me up to stand with him. The heels force my balance into submission. “You’ve always wanted someone to see you. Even when you fought me, even when you continue to fight me, a part of you has always longed for it. For me.”

He wants a performance. He wants me shaking and fighting for breath and the sad part is, I don’t have to fake any of it to make it real. My lips tremble with shame and I really do feel more helpless than I’ve ever been because this time, I know what it means to finally have something to lose. He leans closer, eyes scanning my face. “Do you feel it? The pull? The part of you that craves it? Thatneedsit? Don’t fight it, Claire. I can see the way you’ve always leaned toward me. Even now, even as you try to appear defiant, there’s a piece of you that belongs to me.” My shoulders slump as memories of the years that he trained me, praise and punishment intertwined, surface. I’m careful to not let them consume my focus, to hone in on my one goal here.

I nod slowly, giving him what he wants, letting him think I’ve surrendered. My body feels like it’s melting into him, the drug hazeand psychological manipulation working in perfect harmony, but underneath it all it’s me that holds his downfall. “Did…did you find it?”

He doesn’t speak as he reaches into his pocket and his hand emerges with the USB. “Clever hiding spot, but not clever enough to keep it hidden from me.”