17. Renee

I check my bag. I have everything I need—camera, water bottle, some snack bars, and some cash for the food truck—to spend an afternoon in the park taking pictures. I need the time away from this claustrophobic house.

When I walk out to the garage, the mailman is standing at the box. I wave. “Good morning,” I tell him. “You have anything for Renee DuBois?”

It’s been an age and a half since I’ve seen a single piece of mail with my name on it. But when he looks up at me, he’s holding an envelope. “Same letter every day, Ms. DuBois.”

Same what?

Frowning, I take the envelope. “I haven’t gotten any other letters in months,” I mumble.

“Dog must like eatin’ your mail then, ma’am. ‘Cause I drop one of these off for you every single day.”

My heart is racing and my stomach is in knots as I slide my finger under the flap and flip it up.

Inside, there is a ticket to the hockey game that’s being played tonight between the Firebirds and the Denver Bighorns at the arena. Ice-level tickets, right behind the Firebird bench. I don’t have to guess where it came from, but I would very much like to know what happened to the other envelopes like this one that come every day.

So much for the park. I can’t leave now. I have a stack of envelopes to find.

I offer the mailman a hurried goodbye and race back inside. Deacon is out, but the house manager is in his office going through a stack of paperwork.

I beeline to him and knock lightly before I open the door. “Ray?” I poke my head inside. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

He waves me in and sits up straighter in his chair. “Yes, Ms. DuBois?”

I step in and hold up my envelope. “The mailman said that I get one of these every day. And it’s funny because I haven’t seen any at all. Not until today.”

He looks down and his cheeks color. “Your, er… your father and Mr. Carrington go through the mail before I touch it, Ms. DuBois.”

Of fucking course they do.

I see red. Fucking bright, bloody red.

I want to wring someone’s neck, but this isn’t Ray’s fault and none of the responsible parties are currently in strangling distance. So I just nod tightly and back out of Ray’s office.

My camera bag is still in my hand, but there isn’t any point in going to the park anymore. I don’t want to calm down, to relax, to enjoy myself—I want to hold onto this anger until I can rip someone a new asshole.

So I march to Deacon’s office and plant myself on his couch to wait for him to come home. It doesn’t take long. Thirty minutes later, I hear his footsteps.

I’m up and bristling with anger by the time he steps in. Waving the envelope in his face, I snap, “Care to explain this?”

He takes one look at it and understands immediately. That only pisses me off more. “I’m trying to protect my investment, Renee. I’m sorry if you don’t like my methods.”

“Protect your what?”

“Protect you, protect my investment—it’s all the same thing. If I let you, you’d go running right back to him.”

I’m almost speechless. “I won’t be manipulated like this. This is—you are—we’re supposed to be equals.”

He sneers cruelly. “I don’t think so. We aren’t bringing equal value to the relationship.”

I hate myself even as I say this, but it’s the only card I have left. “You need me to get to my family. My dad’s businesses, all that—you have to marry me for it.”

He shakes his head at me and laughs. “You don’t mean that much to them.”

I wouldn’t have expected that blow to land, but hot tears spring up in my eyes. “Maybe not. But without me, you’re just the fucking leech who wants to worm his way in.”

That upper lip of his curls further into the scowl. “You want to go to your fucking hockey game? You want to let that fucking loser use you? Be my guest. But I won’t let you out of this deal, Renee. You’re an ornament, make no mistake—but you’re my ornament.” He takes a sudden lunge toward me and seizes my wrist in a tight grip. His breath fans out, sour in my face. “And you should watch your mouth. I’m going to be your husband and I demand that you respect me.”

His beady eyes scour into mine for another long beat before he releases me and steps away. I feel that gaze stay locked on me as I make for the door.

As soon as I’m out of earshot, I pull out my phone and dial Sutton.

We’ve got a hockey game to attend.