Page 58 of Power

I’d started to trust him, to believe he might be different. Now, I wasn’t so sure.

“What if this isn’t about protecting me at all?” I set my phone down like it might bite me. “What if this is just to protect his own ass?”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s in the middle of this massive acquisition. He knows there’s a harasser in his workforce.” My laugh was bitter. “Maybe he’s offering protection, but what if this is all about covering Jace’s ass rather than actually giving a damn about what happened to me?”

“Isn’t that good though? That he wants to weed the guy out?”

“Maybe,” I whispered. “So, why then does it hurt so much? The thought that all of this was simply Jace covering his bases rather than actually caring?”

Dakota’s face softened with pity. “You’re protected though, right?”

“Legally? I think so. From getting fired forthisoffense at least.” HR’s off-the-record warning bounced around in myhead. “But they could force me out other ways. Bury me in so much work that I’d never keep up, then fire me forperformanceissues.”

I mean, how could I trust Jace would do the right thing when I’d trusted him to not take away my choices like this?

“What are you going to do?”

I stared into my drink like it might hold the answers.

“I don’t know. But looks like I only have until tomorrow morning to figure it out.”

29

SCARLETT

“Mom?” I opened my apartment door to find her fidgeting in the hallway, rubbing her elbows the way she had since I was a kid. My stomach clenched. I knew that look, the toxic cocktail of desperation and shame that came with needing help. “I wasn’t expecting you today.”

“I’m sorry to bother you.” Her voice was so quiet, I almost couldn’t hear her. And her once-blonde hair continued to collect more grays, like this new chapter in her life was aging her faster.

“Hey, you’re never a bother.” I ushered her inside, noting how she still hesitated at thresholds, a leftover habit from years of asking permission to enter rooms in her own house. “Mi casa es su casa, remember? We’ve talked about this.”

She stood in my living room, looking small and lost. “I was wondering if I could …”

“Mom.” I smiled. “It’s okay. Just tell me what you need.”

“Gas prices went up,” she blurted, scratching her elbow raw. “And I have four interviews this week.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Four?”

A tiny smile bloomed on her face. “I really think I’m getting close.”

Pride and heartache bloomed in my chest. Look, if I was beingcompletely honest, I was still struggling to figure out where that line was between helping someone and enabling them. Maybe I wasn’t getting it right every time, but I was doing my best to help her get back on her feet. After all, I was really proud that she finally, finally left my father.

My feelings about her were like this kaleidoscope, all jumbled together, and each day, a different one might dominate. Like part of me was angry not just at him, but at her too. Sometimes, the resentment would bubble up like acid reflux. Why hadn’t she protected me? Why had she just watched, silent and trembling, while he terrorized us both? Then the guilt would hit, making me feel like the world’s biggest asshole.Who gets mad at someone for being abused?

I remembered how he’d controlled every penny, every decision. How he’d systematically dismantled her self-worth until she believed she couldn’t survive without him. The master manipulator, convincing her that without a college degree, she’d never get a job, and without a job, the courts would take me away from her.

I was his ultimate trump card. The pawn that kept Mom trapped.

“At least he beat me instead of Scarlett,” I’d once overheard her say. “At least Scarlett has food and a roof over her head.” As if living with a monster was better than a homeless shelter. As if the bruises he left on both of us didn’t go deeper than skin.

But today? Today, I chose gratitude. Mom was out. Safe. Living in an apartment Dakota had helped me rent under her name, creating a paper trail Dad couldn’t follow. One more reason I couldn’t lose this job. Mom would lose her apartment, Dakota’s credit would tank, and the whole house of cards would come tumbling down.

But I wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Of course, Mom.” I grabbed cash from my purse, pressing it into her trembling hands before she could spiral into another apology.