Page 100 of Trustfall

“And how do I know you’ll keep your word?

“You don’t.”

“So you want me to just let him go without having any assurance that you will call off Marshall or that your father will even be able to get him to back down? That’s cute, Emory. This is what happens when you send a woman in to negotiate a deal,” he scoffs. “Of course, I could just agree to your terms and then not keep my end of the bargain. You wouldn’t tell my father about the affair yourself, would you?”

I try to hold his gaze, but my eyes flutter down to my lap. It’s my tell, and I know he knows that. Could I tell his father what he did knowing that I'd be sentencing him to God knows what kind of torture? But isn’t not helping him and letting Marshall do the dirty work the same thing? He deserves whatever he has coming to him, but I took a vow to help people. Not hurt them. And now that I know how broken Jaxon is, I can’t stop picturing that little boy who had to listen to his mother being assaulted by his father, night after night. It makes my stomach churn. But there’s something else that’s been gnawing at me.

“Why do you even want to marry me?” I spit out. “You don’t love me. You don’t even like me.”

“Simple,” he says, shifting his legs. “My time has run out. My father gave me three years after college to find a wife. When I didn’t meet that deadline, he chose one for me.”

“So? Marry her!” I nearly scream, throwing my hands in the air.

He laughs. “Her father is worse than mine. To everyone but her, that is. He protects her like she’s some sort of rare fucking diamond. I would never be able to gain control of her. If he caught me so much as looking at her wrong, he would have me tortured while he watched.” He says as he runs his hands through his already messy, dirty blonde hair. “And you’re wrong. I may not be capable of love, but I did like you. We had some good times, remember?”

It takes me a minute to sort through everything he just said and the emotions that go with it all. His last comment makes my blood boil because he still thinks he can just write off all of the pain he inflicted just because we had some ‘good times.’ But then my mind lands on something else, and I can’t help the smile that dances on my lips. I like the idea of someone forcing Jaxon to treat a woman right. But also, that’s why he wants to marry me? Because the alternative is being coerced into a healthy relationship? I refuse to believe he ever liked me as anything more than a metaphorical punching bag.

“Have you never considered not trying to control her and actually respecting her?” I ask, ignoring his last question to me.

He cocks his head to the side in utter confusion.

“Or find literally anyone else,” I add.

“It’s not that simple. It has to be you.”

“Why?”

“You’re perfect,” he coos. It sounds vaguely like a compliment, but I know better. “My dad has been wanting in on your father’s company for a while now. You’re the only person he would be willing to break off my engagement for.”

There it is.

“So what, you just thought you would come here and force me to marry you, so you don’t have to marry this other woman?

“Force. Manipulate. Whatever it takes. I had a plan when I first came here, but my father insisted I return to California to get to know my new fiancé and set a wedding date. After I appeased him for a couple of weeks, I was able to sneak back here to finish what I started. It turns out I didn’t even need a plan, though. When Luke came to confront me, it all just sort of…fell into place.”

“You provoked him,” I guess. “He came to warn you away from me, but you wanted him to rough you up so you could record it and get him arrested. You even went to the emergency room so they would take your statement and get photo evidence of the assault. You’ve probably taken worse beatings in your sleep without getting medical attention,” I scoff.

“I guess you’re not so dumb, after all. Yeah, I provoked him. It doesn’t change the fact that he went through your phone while you were sleeping. That can’t feel great. He must have had it all planned out. Bet he fucked you real good first so he could —”

Anger coils in my gut and I launch forward, raising my hand, ready to slap the smug look off his face, but then I hear a commotion in the hallway. There’s a thud and the sound of boots stomping and someone yelling.

“You can’t go back there, sir—” a man’s voice calls from outside the door. “There’s a private meeting going on.” Another thud.

Shit. Dustin.It’s been over ten minutes since I last texted him. I completely forgot.

Seconds later, Dustin shoves the door open, and he does not look amused. The man from the front desk looks rattled and out of breath. “I’m sorry, Mr. Forbes. He just stormed back here and?—”

“Emory?” Dustin calls, interrupting him.

“I’m sorry! Everything is fine. I forgot to text,” I rush out.

“No need to apologize. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I am,” I assure him. I look back at Jaxon, who has an amused look on his face.

“I knew you wouldn’t come alone. Still afraid of me?” he asks, tapping his fingers on the wooden table in front of him.

“I wish we lived in a world where a woman never had to be afraid to be alone in a room with a man, but here we are,” I fire back. I’m so fucking done with his misogyny.

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