Revenge In A suit & Tie

Sierra’s Fear: Flashbacks To Old Abuse

I never imagined a chill could ever exist in a penthouse with floor-to-ceiling windows and heated marble floors.

But that night, the cold was within me. It was in my bones.

The box with the slashed photo and the note lay on the kitchen island inside a clear evidence bag, the handling of which Damon had insisted be entrusted to his security team. But it had no bearing once the thing was taken out of sight. The image was branded into my mind-a little girl, smiling away without knowing that her world was to end very soon, with a paper-thin, jagged line slashing across her innocent face.

In the very same way Zachary tried to erase me.

Wrapped against the side of the big leather sectional, knees hugged to my chest, I observed the lights flickering down below. The reflection in the glass was pale, unfamiliar, a ghost of a woman I had thought to have outgrown.

How I hated the fear at this moment. I hated that the girl who used to tremble in the dark corners of a cramped apartment was clawing her way out of the grave I had buried her in.

And, worst of all, Damon had seen it.

He came out of the bedroom wearing black sweatpants and a T-shirt, barefoot, but somehow looking like he could take on the world. The eyes softened as they rested finally on me.

“You're freezing,” he murmured, grabbing the throw blanket on the chair and wrapping it around my shoulders.

“I’m fine,” I lied, voice brittle.

His hand lingered on my arm. “No, you're not.”

Tears were on the verge of spilling out, but I pushed them back. Damon didn't need to know this side of me. Not really. Not the side that had begged in the dark, muttered apologies for breathing too loud, or flinched when the door lock was being turned.

When Damon went away taking a call from his head of security, I finally shut my eyes, and the thoughts crashed on me.

Flashback.

The apartment smelled of stale beer and some metallic scent that I could never place. I remember sitting on the edge of the futon, still in my waitress uniform, shoes kicked off, praying for quiet.

The door slammed open, and my whole body jerked.

Zachary’s footsteps were heavy and uneven. Drunk.

“You didn’t answer your phone,” he said, voice slurred but sharp.

I opened my mouth to say that my shift had been slammed, that the manager had...

His palm yanked against the wall beside my head, and I flinched. "Are you cheating on me?" he snarled. "Tell me the truth, Sierra. Who was it that you were with?"

"N-Nobody," I whispered as my heart felt like an animal pounding against my ribs in an effort to get free. The first time he accused me of cheating, I laughed it off. Little did I know that paranoia could eat up a person from within, that obsession could germinate into violence like weeds through concrete.

He grabbed my wrist with too much force, a pressure that began to sting at my bones. "Don't lie to me."

I shook my head, willing him to let go before the bruise would bloom over.

The memory came to an abrupt stop as Damon called my name from the kitchen in a soft voice.

I shot upright, breathing raspily while my pulse sped madly as though I were still trapped in that hellhole. My hands quaked, and for a terrifying second, I thought I wilted into the room.

"Talk to me," Damon clamored as he neared me and crouched in front of the couch. He looked straight into my eyes, and for once, there was nowhere left for me to hide behind walls or wear masks.

"I thought I buried her," I whispered with a breaking voice. "The girl he broke. The girl who couldn't even look in the mirror without seeing his fingerprints all over her life. But she's still here."

I feel her crawling up my throat, each time he" - I gesture toward the box - "of him reminding me he isn't done with me."

Damon's jaw tightened but his hand on my face was gentle.

"You are not that girl anymore Sierra. You are mine now. And no one, not even him, takes you back there."

I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to let his words wrap around me and wash me. But fear doesn't care about reason. Fear is a parasite.

That night, I couldn't sleep.

Every time I closed my eyes, I was back in the old apartment. I heard Zachary's voice hissing at me, I heard the splinter of glass when a picture frame hit the wall, I felt the burn of anger and humiliation when he would corner me and whisper threats that he would never act on but could always have.

I remembered the night I ran, the rain soaking my hair to my face, the cab driver staring at me through the rearview while begging him not to stop anywhere near my real address.

I truly believed that leaving him was the end of it.

Now it felt like it had only been the intermission.

At dawn, Damon found me, still sleeping on the couch, curled in the same position. He didn't say anything to me, and he picked me up, like I was a feather, and took me to the bedroom.

I instinctively stiffened, and Damon halted.

"I'm not him," he said softly. "I will never be able to lay one finger on you the way he did. I want you to always remember that, even when your mind is playing tricks on you."

That broke something inside me, and I buried my face into his chest.

I didn't know how long I cried. I just knew that for the first time in years I made noise when I sobbed.

Once I pulled away, he brushed the hair back and said, "We're going to finish this. You won't have to live your life with him haunting you anymore."

For a moment, a small part of me wanted to believe that.

A small part of me also knew that Zachary Hale never made a threat, he wouldn't fulfil.

That afternoon we receive another package.

This package wasn't something that had been left at the door.

This package had been slipped underneath the door.

And there wasn't a box. It was just an envelope.

Damon opened it carefully, his jaw tight. Inside was a USB drive and a single note:

"Let's see how much he loves you after he sees this."

My blood went cold.

Because I knew Zachary.

I knew precisely what proof he could possibly have kept.

The kind of proof that can destroy my life in a single play.

And as Damon moved toward his laptop to plug in the USB, my heart was in my throat.

I had the sickening feeling that the past I'd buried was about to come back to life and quite possibly drag me with it.

The USB drive promises a devastating revelation, one that could ruin Sierra and Damon's relationship, and public life. Sierra knew what Zachary might have, but Damon, in just moments would see it for himself and the fallout could change everything.