“Happy birthday, Jazzy.”

She turned at the slurred voice behind her, her heart leaping into her throat at the sight of Brent in her bedroom doorway, his tie half undone and his jacket gaping open. He’d dressed up for the sweet sixteen party the Duffys had organized for her, but he was already half in the bag.

Didn’t anyone notice? Or maybe it didn’t matter. He worked now, and Mrs. Duffy treated him like an adult. It wasn’t any big thing if he wanted to have a few drinks to unwind after he returned from his shift.

“Hi. Thanks.” She tried to smile but the gesture fell short.

Nothing new when it came to dealing with Brent.

She tucked her hair behind her ear and turned back to her dresser. Tonight she would get to wear the aquamarine dangle earrings Mrs. Duffy had given her for an early birthday gift.

“I heard you singing, baby. What song was that?”

Ick, she hated when he called her baby. It made her skin prickle as if she’d gotten too much sun. When Gray used the same term, she loved it. That probably wasn’t fair, but she couldn’t deny her natural reaction. God knows she’d tried a million times.

“Elvis. Hey, is everyone here yet?” At the tickle between her shoulder blades, she turned, not feeling comfortable with him behind her. He’d moved up close—too close—and she bumped into the dresser, sending a few of her perfume bottles tumbling to the floor. She gasped and bent to see if the bottles broke, only to have Brent seize hold of her arm and tug her to her feet. “Hey, what are you—”

“Stupid slut. You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” He twisted her arm and forced her backward until she fell onto her bed. “Fucking tease. He thinks you want him. We’ll see about that.”

Panic spurted inside her, drowning out any logic she had left. She couldn’t think straight when he was looming over her, the bottle in one hand and his other on his buckle.

Oh God, he was undoing his belt.

“Brent, no.” She scrambled backward on the mattress and he grabbed her ankle, yanking her forward while she flailed and kicked. “Stop it, Brent! You got the wrong idea. I don’t know what you mean—”

“Cunt. Stop your shit. I’m going to prove to him that you’re not the sweet little bitch he thinks you are. I know you’re not innocent. I hear you in here, fucking that Daniels kid.” He moved to unzip his zipper and she went still, shock taking over.

This couldn’t be happening. She’d finally found her perfect home with the perfect family. The Duffys were going to adopt her, she knew they would. All she had to do was stay still and take it, just not make a sound so they would never know what she’d let him do.

He was right, just like her mother had said. She was a slut. Always tempting the men. First Jacob, now Brent. She deserved this, and if she accepted it without making too much of a fuss, it didn’t have to ruin anything. She could still become a Duffy. Gray didn’t ever have to know either.

She’d never have to see the disgust in his eyes if she just stayed quiet.

“That’s it, baby. I knew you wanted it,” Brent crooned, bracing a knee on the bed as he tugged down his jeans. At the sight of his boxer-covered erection, she choked and turned her face away, covering her chest with her arms. “Don’t hide yourself from me. Let me see those pretty tits—”

“No. Don’t touch me. God, please, just leave me alone.” She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t. She’d die first. She slapped and kicked, fighting for everything she was worth.

“Stupid bitch, you’ll pay for that.” His big hand clamped around her throat, cutting off her air as he pinned her with his heavy, hot body, and she screamed the only thing that came to mind.

The only word she could still remember.

“Gray!”

The door flew open, banging into the wall, and then the weight was being lifted off her, vanishing so fast that she patted her sides to reassure herself she wasn’t imagining things. She still had her eyes squeezed shut but when she opened them, she didn’t understand what she was seeing. Brent was fighting with…Gray? How could he be there? He was supposed to be at school. He’d apologized for not being sure if he could make it back home for her party, and she’d told him it was okay because she understood. He was busy, and she wasn’t his whole life like he was hers. It was just a stupid birthday.

Stupid slut.

She covered her head with her arms and curled on her side, away from the fight. She knew she should get up and help Gray, but her legs had gone numb and the sensation was spreading. Higher and higher the cold crept, taking away the pain. She wouldn’t feel it soon. She could just float away.

She started singing Elvis again, louder and louder until she was screaming the words that only a while ago had made her giggle and dance around the room. Now they burned her throat as she shouted them, tears pouring down her face, anything to drown out the sounds taking place behind her.

Stupid cunt, you did this. You.

“Jazz, baby, are you okay?” Gentle hands smoothed over her back and she shrieked and rolled away, pressing herself to the wall.

“No, no, no. Don’t touch me.” She sang louder, rocking faster, anything to block out the hands pulling at her. She couldn’t feel them. They couldn’t hurt her now. Her knees banged the wall as she tried to ball herself up to make herself too small to be seen, but it didn’t work. He was still there. His hot breath still blew over her skin. She shuddered and pressed her arms together. Smaller, smaller. She was tiny. She could disappear.

“I’m here. It’s me, baby. Jazz, it’s Gray. I’ve got you.” He scooped her up and she turned into him, following his voice through the darkness that had claimed her.

“Gray,” she whispered brokenly, clinging to his neck. A seeping wound marred his forehead and cheek. She touched the blood and shrank back at the sight of it on her skin. “Please don’t leave me. Don’t let go.”

“I won’t. I won’t, ever.” He buried his face in her hair and rocked them both. “Oh God, I’ll never let him hurt you again.”

She lifted her head, blinking through the haze of tears as Mrs. Duffy bolted into the room. “What happened?” She pinned Jazz with her accusing gaze. “What did you do?”

And just like that, the last of her dreams crumbled through her fingers like sand. She’d never had a chance in hell of anyone wanting her to be theirs anyway.

She was on her own.