Page 97 of Words We Didn't Say

“Do you?”

I’d heard him loud and clear.

My father had made his demands in the same menacing voice with the belt wrapped around his hand. It didn’t matter whether you answered yes, no, or said nothing at all; the outcome wasalways the same. I’d wished a million times for someone to save me from him.

My heart slammed in my chest, cold sweat sticking my satin dress to my spine, but I wasn’t about to turn my back on someone who needed help.

I edged around the corner.

Lola cowered against the wall, the telltale mark of a slap hidden behind the slender fingers fanned on her cheek. Chris towered over her. His hand jerked away from her arm when he heard my footsteps on the hardwood behind him, but the reminders of his grip still dented her pale skin.

That evil bastard.

Not that he seemed at all bothered to see me. He casually buttoned his jacket and flicked back the strands of blond hair that had fallen across his forehead.

“A pleasure to see you again, Eden.” His lips twisted in a smile as if nothing had happened.

All the fancy canapés I’d scoffed sloshed around in my stomach. My mind screamed at me to walk away. Their relationship was none of my business. Chris held Zach’s future in his hands—but those were the same hands he’d used on the woman cowering in the corner.

Maybe I should’ve walked away.

But how could I?

HowcouldI?

Out came my dazzling smile. “Lola! There you are!” I sang in my best performance yet. “I’ve been looking absolutely everywhere for you! You won’t believe the gossip I just heard on the deck.”

Chris scoffed. He’d bought the act. Not surprising—that jerk had pegged me as a bimbo since day dot. Towering over her, he murmured, “Run along,” and pecked a frosty kiss on her cheek.

I clenched my fist until my fingernails bit into my skin.

Lola peeled herself off the wall, shrugging the delicate gauze shawl into place over her shoulders and knotting it tight so the bruises on her arms disappeared. Before her head could turn to seek his approval again, I’d already huddled her to my side.

“Come on,” I urged her away from him. “Let me fill you in on all the details.”About how to leave that man.

I hurried her down the corridor, constantly checking over my shoulder, my hip bumping into the wall because I was moving too fast and not paying enough attention. Another dead end. Another turn. The restroom. I nudged open the door with my shoulder, ushering Lola through a small crowd of women to get to the basins.

“W-Where’s y-your”—I took a deep breath—“makeup bag?”

She bit her lip. She didn’t have one.

“Ladies!” I called to the women milling around the basins. “Makeup emergency!”

Women rushed over, tipping out their foundations and powders for us to test until we found the perfect match. The hot red handprint scorching her pale cheek blurred behind the tears in my eyes. I tried to distract myself by tucking wisps of blonde hair behind her ears only to see the bruises dotted on her neck. My heart squeezed so tight I couldn’t breathe.

“Thank you,” Lola whispered.

Frantically, I dabbed at her skin to cover the marks. “We need to get you out of here.” Hoarse words rushed out of my mouth. “A taxi—or—”

“But i-it’s Chris’s b-birthday.”

“So bloody what! Hehurtyou!”

“He didn’t mean to. I’m sure Zach’s told you. They work so many long hours. It was my fault for—”

“It wasn’t your fault!”

“He’s been under so much pressure.”

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