Page 38 of Blitz
She meant me not being fixed as I pretended to be. I rubbed my eyes, the fatigue suddenly bone-deep. “I don’t know.”
“Do you have a lawyer? A good one, I mean. Not one he picked.”
“Yeah, I have my own guy now.” After Atlanta, I’d learned that lesson. “Rebecca, I need you to be careful. If you’re not taking his money, and you keep seeing me, he’ll ruin you.”
“Ruin me, how?” she asked, half amused, half skeptical, clearly unaware of the gravity behind the warning. She hadn’t grown up with him—hadn’t witnessed the cold precision with which he dismantled lives. To her, he was just a name, a threat on paper. But to me, he was the monster in the dark, the man who wielded power like a scalpel and carved up anyone who dared step out of line. My stomach twisted with memories best left buried, the ones that smelled like antiseptic and sounded like prayers twisted into weapons. My head throbbed as panic bloomed behind my eyes, and I sank into the nearest chair, overwhelmed by the weight of what she didn’t yet understand.
I needed to make her see. “Maybe he can’t ruin you with money or a career, but he’ll try something. Trust me.”
Rebecca huffed, “Trick, to him, I’m a nobody. A college student with student loans and a tiny apartment I share with two other people. What could he possibly do to me when I have the ultimate threat hanging over him? One call and his affair is exposed, and even all these years later, I have proof, and it could destroy him. He had my mom tied up in so much litigation, but when I turned eighteen, and when she got ill, he has nothing apart from trying to buy me off.”
I gripped the phone tighter. “You don’t get it. He’ll dig until he finds something, twist it, weaponize it. He’ll hurt you, discredit you, make your life unbearable, all to protect the illusion he’s built and keep his reputation spotless. That’s all he cares about. And he’ll burn anyone who threatens that, no matter who they are.”
There was silence on the line for a moment. “Okay, so what do we do?”
“‘We’?” I echoed.
“Yes, we. As in, you and me. Siblings. Family. Remember?”
The wordfamilyhit me like a body check, knocking the breath out of me. It had been a loaded term for so long—code for control, shame, and walking a tightrope to survive. Family had always meant doing what I was told, being who they needed me to be. But now, with Rebecca… it felt different. The idea that family could mean safety, belonging, even love—it was unfamiliar territory. And terrifying. But also, maybe, just maybe, worth stepping into.
“I think,” I began, then stopped, trying to form the words. “I think you should block my number, for now at least.”
“What? No way?—”
“Just hear me out. If he’s monitoring my phone records—and I wouldn’t put it past him—then your number showing up is a red flag. We need to be smarter than him.”
A sound from the bedroom caught my attention. Tom was stirring.
“I have to go,” I whispered. “But listen, get a burner phone. Text me from that. We’ll figure this out.”
“Fine,” Rebecca said, although she sounded unhappy about it. “But Trick? Don’t let him win. Not this time.”
I ended the call and the air in my lungs turned to acid, sharp and searing, each breath harder than the last. My thoughts spun—what if he hired someone? What if he sent someone to follow her, to hurt her, only because she existed? I gripped the edge of the countertop, white-knuckled and trembling, heart hammering out of rhythm. My chest tightened until it felt as if my ribs might crack. I couldn’t think. Couldn’t move. I was spiraling.
And then—Tom.
His voice, low and steady, sliced through the panic like a lifeline. “Trick. Hey. Look at me. Breathe.”
He was there, crouched between my knees before I even realized I’d dropped to the floor. Gloriously rumpled, shirtless, hair sticking up in wild tufts as if he’d fought sleep and lost, he looked like comfort incarnate. His hands were warm on my thighs, grounding me, coaxing me back from the edge. He didn’t ask questions. Didn’t press. He stayed there, unwavering, eyes locked on mine, repeating for me to breathe, calling me sweetheart, on repeat.
“Talk to me,” he murmured, concern etched across his face, when my panic eased.
I nodded quickly. “He’ll hurt my sister.”
“Who will? Who is threatening your sister? Wait, you have a sister?” Given I’d told him I was an only child, he was right to beconfused. I grabbed him and held him close, burying my face in his neck, tears of frustration choking me. “Trick? Do we need to call the cops?”
“No! Yes. Fuck, I don’t know.”
“Trick?”
“It’s complicated. Coffee? Then we can talk?” I still didn’t look up at him, didn’t want him to move, letting him hold me up as I processed everything.
“We don’t need cops?”
“Not at this moment. But… do you know any security companies?” Sudden clarity swamped me. “I have money, I can get someone to follow her, and I’ll do that.” I fumbled with my phone, but he took it from me.
“Five minutes,” he said and tugged me to the bathroom. At first, I held back, and he wrinkled his nose at me. “Shower,” he repeated. “Coffee. Hug. Talk.”
