Page 133 of Wasted

Drifting snow and blowing flakes met her outside. She made herself keep moving, plunging one foot and then the other into the deepening snow as the strong wind pressed into her, slowing her progress. She wouldn’t be able to get to Sydney quickly in this weather. Neither would the police.

But she should still call them. She wasn’t equipped to handle a desperate man like Massey on her own. As soon as she received the directions, she would?—

Was that a crunch in the snow behind her?

She turned to look.

A burst of pain split her scalp.

Darkness claimed her.

Chapter

Thirty-Six

Cillian stood by the window, staring at the blizzard that seemed to be a reflection of his own insides at the moment. The turmoil of emotion swirling inside him could easily rival the blustering snow and wind that whooshed and moaned against the window.

How could Victoria do this to him? To herself?

She was thirty-one years old. A full-grown woman with strength and independence she hadn’t had as a kid. How could the same woman who faced Cillian down and directed her strong-willed siblings with spunk and confidence choose to live a life controlled by someone else?

How could she go running home to her dad again? For his birthday party, of all things.

Frustration cinched Cillian’s muscles.

This couldn’t be it. He couldn’t have lost her to her father’s control again, after all this time.

But she didn’t even seem to want to be free.

That was common among victims. He knew that from experience.

That had to be it. She must have become so used to her dad’s bullying, to being controlled by him, that she was scared to live without it. Or didn’t realize how much better life could be if she escaped her dad’s subtle form of abuse.

Cillian would not leave her there, even if she didn’t yet realize she was in trouble. He loved her too much to let her live like that, no matter how many times she pushed him away. She didn’t know what she was doing.

He wouldn’t let her or her dad stop him. He’d use all the leverage he had to end her father’s bullying, of Victoria and the rest of her family, once and for all.

He had the leverage now, thanks to Marsha Faint.

Cillian turned from the window, pacing to where his phone sat beside his computer on the desk by the wall. He should try to find more evidence to back up Marsha’s claims, but there wasn’t time for that. He needed to get Victoria away from her father now, before she pushed Cillian away even more and got sucked completely back into her father’s manipulation.

The threat of Cillian’s information from Marsha should be enough to shake a guy like Henry Weston. Sure, he was tough and used to bullying everyone to get his way. But he also cared a whole lot about the Weston name and his reputation. He’d do pretty much anything to protect that.

Which gave him a weakness. One Cillian could exploit with Marsha Faint’s story and what it revealed—that Dr. Henry Weston was actually guilty of malpractice. Why else would he have risked illegally intimidating the woman to keep her quiet?

But Cillian would have to wait until tomorrow. Wouldn’t do him any good to break up the birthday dinner, as much as his sense of justice would love for him to do that. The leverage would lose its power over Henry Weston if his kids heard about their dad’s malpractice. He wouldn’t want anyone, including his kids, to know the truth.

His top priority would be to keep the truth from coming out, which would be the only way Cillian would get him to agree to back off of Victoria and let her live her own life. To be who she wanted to be, and to spend her life with the person she chose. With Cillian.

He’d go to Dr. Weston’s clinic first thing tomorrow morning.

Cillian gripped the chairback, fighting the desire to forget caution and strategy and go end this now.

Tomorrow morning. Then Victoria would finally be free.

He couldn’t wait.

A vibrating sound jerked his attention to his phone. It shook and slid across the smooth desktop.