Chapter 45
Samantha's POV
I stepped aside, my heart suddenly pounding. Right on schedule.
Margaret opened the door. Three large men stood on the porch, silhouetted against the streetlight. The one in front wore a black baseball cap pulled low. His shoulders filled the entire doorframe.
"Evening, ma'am." His voice was polite but carried an edge that made the hairs on my neck stand up. "We're looking for Jack Grey. Need to have a word with him about a debt."
"Debt?" Margaret's voice rose. "Jack, what—"
"I don't owe anybody shit!" Jack pushed past her, trying to slam the door. "Get the fuck off my porch!"
The man in the cap caught the door effortlessly. "That's not very friendly, Jack."
What happened next was almost too fast to follow.
The two men behind the leader surged forward. Jack tried to swing at them—stupid, drunk, and slow. They grabbed his arms, one on each side, and dragged him back into the living room. He thrashed and swore, but he might as well have been fighting concrete statues.
"Let him go!" Margaret shrieked, rushing after them. One of the men—not unkindly—guided her aside. She stumbled, fell hard onto her hip by the couch.
"Don't hurt my mom!" Jack screamed, still struggling uselessly. "You can't—"
The first punch took him in the gut. All the air left his lungs in a whoosh. The second caught his cheek. Then his ribs. Professional, controlled hits—nothing that would cause lasting damage, but god, they had to hurt.
Jack's screams turned to whimpers. Margaret was crying now, trying to crawl toward him, but she seemed frozen by fear.
I stood at the bottom of the stairs and watched.
The men worked efficiently, systematically. A blow to Jack's shoulder. His knee. His other cheek. Jack collapsed between them, curling into a ball on the stained carpet. Blood dripped from his nose. His left eye was already swelling shut.
"Please," he sobbed. "Please stop. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
The man in the cap looked at me. "Miss Grey? This satisfactory?"
I walked down the remaining steps slowly, deliberately. My footsteps sounded loud in the sudden quiet.
Margaret's head whipped toward me, her face contorted with shock and betrayal. "Sam... Samantha, what... you did this?"
I crouched down next to Jack. He flinched away, blood and snot running down his face. Up close, I could see a cut on his lip, a bruise blooming across his jaw. His breathing was ragged.
"Remember this feeling, Jack," I said softly. "Remember how helpless you are right now. How much it hurts. How scared you are."
"Samantha," Margaret whispered. "How could you—"
"I'm not your punching bag anymore." I straightened up, looking down at him. "I'm not the scared little girl you pushed around. And if I ever hear that you've touched another person like you touched me? This will happen again. Only next time, they won't be so gentle."
I pulled out my wallet—Lucas's supplementary card safely tucked in the inner pocket—and extracted five hundred dollars in cash. The man in the cap accepted it with a professional nod.
"Appreciate your business, Miss Grey. Pleasure doing work for reasonable clients."
The three men filed out as quietly as they'd arrived. The door clicked shut behind them.
The silence was deafening.
Margaret was shaking, tears streaming down her face, staring at me like I was a stranger. Jack whimpered on the floor, not even trying to get up.
I turned to Margaret, making sure my voice carried. "I have friends at CVU now. Real friends. People with resources and connections you can't even imagine. If anything—and I mean anything—happens to me? If I have any mysterious accidents? If someone talks to the police about my personal business?" I let the words hang in the air. "This happens again. To both of you. And next time, I won't tell them to be careful."
Margaret's mouth opened and closed soundlessly. She looked from me to Jack and back again.
"Do we understand each other?"
She nodded slowly, still crying.
"Good." I glanced at Jack one more time. He was crying too now, curled up like a child, all that bullying bravado completely shattered. "Clean him up. And Jack? You're going to forget you ever saw me tonight. If anyone asks, you got jumped by some guys outside a bar. That's the story. That's the only story."
He managed a jerky nod.
I climbed the stairs without looking back. My old room was exactly as I'd left it—narrow bed, small desk, boxes of my few possessions still stacked in the corner. Through the thin walls, I could hear Margaret sobbing downstairs, the sound of her helping Jack to his feet.
I sat on the bed and pulled out my phone. Sent Lucas a text: Lying down now. Thank you again for everything. You're my hero. Added a heart emoji and a kissing emoji for good measure.
His response came immediately: Sleep well. Dream sweet dreams. I'll take care of everything.
Oh, Lucas. If only you knew.
I lay back on the pillow, staring at the water-stained ceiling, and smiled.
Phase one: complete. Jack was neutralized, terrified, and completely under my control. Margaret wouldn't dare cross me now. And Lucas? Lucas was more devoted than ever, convinced he was my knight in shining armor.
Perfect.
Absolutely perfect.
Outside, a distant siren wailed. I closed my eyes, exhaustion finally catching up with me. Real exhaustion this time, not the performed kind.
Tomorrow, I'd return to campus. Tomorrow, I'd slip back into the role of sweet, grateful girlfriend. Tomorrow, I'd continue weaving the web that would keep Lucas exactly where I wanted him.
But tonight? Tonight I could rest, knowing that for the first time in years, I was the one in control.
No one will ever hurt me again.
The thought warmed me more than any of Lucas's embraces ever had.