Uncharted Territory (The Compass Series Book 3) (21 page)

“I will not be judged by you. You have no understanding whatsoever of the life I’ve chosen to lead, and I will not discuss it any further.”

“Then I guess we’re done here.”

“I guess we are.”

“Indie—”

“It’s India, Dad. India!”

“I apologize. India…it doesn’t have to be this way.”

“I think you’ve made it abundantly clear it does.”

“But you’ll have nothing.” His eyes widen as if he can’t imagine anything worse.

“I guess it’s a good thing I’ve paid attention at all the fancy schools you sent me to.”

“Rani, please—”

“Not. Fair,” I bite off. Not fair using the pet name he called me when I was little.

He takes a deep breath while he regards me. “Is there anything you want?”

Is there? I don’t want their money, but the enormity of being totally cut off has hit. I’ll have nothing.
Nothing
. While that won’t last long—I’m industrious, if nothing else—I don’t relish the idea of having to scramble to pay for the rest of school. It’s too late to apply for financial aid, and I wouldn’t blame them for not giving the poor little rich girl much sympathy. Not to mention I’ll need to pay for my apartment. And my car. And utilities. And insurance… The details are drowning me in panic. Must shove that away for now.
Be reasonable, rational. That’s the only way you’re getting through this, Burke.

“If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like you to finish paying for my degree. And a year’s worth of my current expenses when I’ve finished.”

“Done,” says my father at the same time my mother cries, “No!”

“It’s taken care of.” They face off, but for once my mother blinks first.

“Thank you. Is there anything you’d like from me?”

“Change your name. I don’t want anyone knowing you’re my daughter,” my mother spits.

“I won’t. But as soon as I’m finished with school, I’ll move away to somewhere the Park Avenue Burkes doesn’t mean a thing to anyone. I’ll go to the West Coast. Seattle, LA, San Francisco. I’ll never come east of the Mississippi ever again. Satisfied?”

My mother nods, but my dad protests. “That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think, India? You’ve always been so reasonable, so rational. I expect this kind of rash behavior from your sister, but not from you.”

“What did you think was going to happen, Daddy? What did you think was going to happen when you dragged me in here and told me I’m sick and disgusting? Did you think I was going to come along like a good compliant girl and let you lock me up? I didn’t commit a crime, and I don’t need to be fixed. If you never saw those pictures…”

I shake my head, tears filling my eyes. However much I talk smack about my parents, they’re still my parents, the only ones I’ve got, and I love them. It hurts that they think I’m a revolting freak who needs to be cured. But dammit, I will not cry. I. Will. Not. Cry. I will not give them the satisfaction.

I’ve made it through far worse without shedding a single tear, and I’m not going to start crying now. I marshal all the skills I’ve acquired over the past six years and my voice is steady as I speak. “Life would’ve gone on the same way it always has. I’d still be your baby girl. Don’t you see that? I am the same person I was yesterday, and I will continue to be that person tomorrow. Nothing has changed.”

My voice is on the verge of cracking so I take a breath, quick enough that none of them can interrupt me. “But it’s your own goddamn fault. You raised me to have a spine, to stand up for myself. Well, here it is, biting you in the ass. And you deserve every single fucking tooth mark. So unless there’s some more scorn, some more loathing you’d like to pour on me before I go, I’m leaving. Please don’t contact me again unless it’s in regards to our financial arrangements. Goodbye, Mother, Daddy.”

‡

Year Six

“B
aby.”

I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours or so bawling my eyes out in Rey’s apartment. Only now that I can hold it together for more than five minutes at a time did I call Hunter. And he has the nerve to answer my call the same way he always does. Fuck that.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

“That’s ten. Would you care to ask me again?”

The fucker doesn’t even pretend to be surprised.

“Yes. What the
fuck
were you thinking?”

“That’s twenty. We can do this all day. I’m going to have a good time tonight.”

“No, you’re not. How could you?” Devastation threatens to make my voice quiver, but the rage keeps it steady.

“First of all, yes, I am. You’ll be here at six, and when I’m through with you, if you can sit down—which is becoming less and less likely—we’re having dinner with the Grahams. And how could I? You don’t usually ask stupid questions, but that’s one you already know the answer to. I had a problem and I solved it.”

“You listen to me. If you think you’re ever laying hands on me again, you are sadly mistaken. I will not be there at six, I will not be taking punishment from you, and I will not be having dinner with the Grahams. Tonight or any other night.”

“That’s not what our contract says, and this disobedience, this
insolence
is not helping your case. I’m going to call Jerry to cancel. You should clear your calendar for the next three days because you’re going to be hurting.”

“No. Our contract doesn’t provide for you being a sociopath.”

He laughs. “A sociopath? You’re being a tad dramatic. But you know how I feel about name-calling. That’s another ten. We’re up to fifty. Your ass is going to be the prettiest shade of scarlet.”

“Jesus, are you delusional? I’m not your submissive anymore. I want out, and you have to give it to me. I know
that’s
in our contract.”

There’s silence on the other end for a few beats. I’ve surprised him for once.

“It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“They dragged me to a shrink. They wanted to commit me. They’re cutting me off. So it was pretty fucking bad.”

“I am so looking forward to cleaning out your dirty mouth this evening.”

“Hunter!”

“That’s ten more for raising your voice to me. You know as well as I do that you can’t leave,” he scoffs, although his usual rock-solid confidence has deserted him. It’s in his voice.

“I can and I have.”

“But—”

“No, there are no buts. We’re done. What do I have to do, say Beetlejuice three times? We’re over.”

He’s silent, but I can hear the wheels turning. My calculating lover.

“You’re going to have nothing.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“You’re going to be a mess. You don’t know how to live like that, you spoiled little bitch.”

Whoa. Hunter hardly ever swears. And never has he sworn
at
me. Half of me wants to do a victory dance for rattling him so badly he’s resorted to foul language, but the other half wants to take up arms. I’d like to argue that I’m not spoiled, but I’m aware enough to know that, materially, I’ve led a fairytale life. And I have no defense against the charge of bitch. What I do have is a question. “What the fuck did you think was going to happen?”

I’m greeted by more silence. I know exactly what he thought was going to happen. What he was incapable of imagining going down any other way because he’s that cocksure, that arrogant, that pompous. To imagine that’s something I’ve always liked about him, something that’s always turned me on.

He knew my parents would flip their shit. He knows they use money as a weapon and they’d threaten my trust fund like they usually do. I may be pliant with him, but I’m stubborn as hell with them. I’d tell them where to stick it. When I walked out, realizing what I’d done, I’d come running to him and beg for his help. Plead for him to keep me, apologize for our fight, take my punishment like a good girl and give in. But not this time. This isn’t about an extra weeknight. This isn’t about the dress I’m going to wear or precisely how many ways he’s going to fuck me. Those are negotiable. My life is not.

“It’s a privilege to act like you own me, but that’s all it is. An act, a role I shrug on, a game I play because we both like it, we both need it. I did this for you because, until today, I believed you had earned it, that you were deserving. But you’re not the man I thought you were. That man would’ve never ruined my life just to get what he wanted. We could’ve talked about this more, maybe worked out some kind of compromise. That’s what people in relationships do.”

“But you were never going to give me what I wanted.” As if that’s a reason to betray six years of trust from someone you allegedly love.

“No. Not entirely. I need to be able to look at myself in the mirror in the morning, and I don’t think I could do that if you were all I had. What would happen to me if you decided you didn’t want me anymore? I know you don’t feel this way right now, but I think my independence is something you’ve always liked about me. It makes me interesting, it makes me a challenge. You’d be so bored with me if I were a sure thing.”

“No, I wouldn’t.” His voice contains no guile at all; it tugs at my heart with its earnestness. “I wouldn’t let you be boring. You’d be perfect. I’d adore you. How could I be bored if I could make you into everything I’ve always wanted?”

“I’m not?”

“No, India.” His tone drips with derision, as if I’m a fucking moron for imagining he might like me precisely the way I am. “I put up with all your ridiculous nonsense because you’re a hot piece of tail who gets off on being beaten to within an inch of your life and getting fucked in ways most people can’t even imagine. It’s insanity, baby. You need me to tell you how to get dressed in the morning. Do you honestly think you can function at a high enough level to be a professional? You’re going to be a joke. They might ask you to get their coffee because they’ll like watching you walk away and because there’s a better than even chance you’ll blow them when you get back, but only if they rough you up first.”

It’s like he’s taken a knife to my insides. Everything feels shredded and raw. It’s not surprising that my voice comes out as a tortured plea. “Hunter—”

“No, you listen to me. I did this for your own good. Despite the brash dog-and-pony show I know you put on when you’re not with me and that dazzling intellect of yours, you need someone to keep you on a tight leash. You’ll never survive out in the real world because, at your core, you’re a terrified little girl with absolutely no common sense or survival instinct. I did you a favor. Now you don’t even have to make that choice because I made it for you. You can keep your secret, India. I’ll let you pretend this isn’t really what you want, but at the end of the day, you and I both know the truth. You need to be locked in a cage.”

Hunter has said some nasty things to me in the past, but I always thought it was part of our game, some dirty talk to rev himself up. It never did much for me, although I won’t deny when I’m feeling particularly naughty a well-placed “horny little slut” won’t push me over the edge.

But this… I never thought he believed I was
incompetent
. We are well and truly over. Up until now, despite what I’ve said, I thought there was a shot at reconciliation, a possibility of happily-ever-after. But if he doesn’t respect me, it’s all gone. Any respect I’ve had for him has vanished because he’s made this agreement, lived this life, with someone he believed was fundamentally senseless and therefore incapable of giving truly informed consent. The idea makes bile rise in my throat. If there’s no consent, this is flat-out abuse.

I shut my eyes tightly in hopes it will ward off the nausea long enough to get out what I need to say.

“We’re done here. Have Ben drop off my things. Please don’t contact me again.”

“You’re forgetting something.”

My mind goes blank, and after a split-second, Hunter’s heavy sigh echoes through the phone.

“This is what I’m talking about, why you’re going to be such a goddamn catastrophe. Your fundamental lack of attention to detail. You’re going to be less than useless as an attorney. Our contract specifies that it must be broken in person.”

Fuck. I
had
forgotten. I signed the stupid thing nearly six years ago.

“Are you seriously going to hold me to that?”

“You’re damn right I am.”

“Now you’re just being a sadistic sonofabitch.”

“Always have been. Don’t know why it’s taken you this long to realize it.”

“Saturday, ten o’clock, your house. Rey is coming. Have my things ready.”

*